Why are Osprey aircraft deployed in Japan's Saga Prefecture amid local opposition?
Question: I've heard that Ospreys have arrived in Saga Prefecture. What's going on?
Answer: Yes, that's referring to the Japan Ground Self-Defense Force (GSDF)'s V-22 Osprey transport aircraft. The first unit arrived on July 9 at the newly established Camp Saga, adjacent to Kyushu-Saga International Airport in the city of Saga. The aircraft is scheduled to be stationed at the camp, where construction work is still ongoing, though its main facilities have been completed.
Q: Why are they being deployed in Saga?
A: The deployment is aimed at strengthening Japan's island defense capabilities, including of the Senkaku Islands in the southernmost prefecture of Okinawa. In the Mid-Term Defense Program approved by the Cabinet in 2013, the central government called for the creation of the Amphibious Rapid Deployment Brigade tasked with recapturing remote islands, and the introduction of Osprey aircraft for rapid troop deployment. The brigade's base is located at Camp Ainoura in Sasebo, Nagasaki Prefecture, about 60 kilometers from Saga.
Q: How will they be operated moving forward?
A: All 17 of the GSDF's Osprey aircraft were temporarily stationed at Camp Kisarazu in the eastern Japan city of Kisarazu, Chiba Prefecture, but they are scheduled to be fully relocated to Saga by mid-August. Training will begin once preparations are complete. The Kyushu Defense Bureau of the Ministry of Defense has presented an "operational plan" to Saga Prefecture detailing concrete examples of training content and flight paths. However, pilots will apparently choose the most appropriate routes based on weather conditions during actual operations. The Ministry of Defense has stated that local authorities, including the Saga Municipal Government, will be notified when training begins.
Q: What do residents think?
A: Informational meetings were held from June 10 to 13 for local neighborhood association leaders near Camp Saga, where concerns about noise and other issues were raised. Some locals involved in the fishery opposing the deployment have filed a lawsuit seeking to halt the camp's construction. On June 21, about 620 residents gathered near the camp site for a rally opposing the Osprey deployment. The national government is urged to provide thorough explanations to residents and foster trust.
(Japanese original by Akiho Narimatsu, Saga Bureau)
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Japan Today
5 hours ago
- Japan Today
Wartime child worker reveals dark secrets of Japan's 'Rabbit Island'
By Tomoji Tatsumi Okunoshima has become famous globally as Japan's Instagrammable "Rabbit Island," but little is known about its dark history as a host to a wartime poison gas factory and weapons plant. Today, people come to enjoy the picturesque views of the Seto Inland Sea from campgrounds and hiking trails in the Inland Sea National Park, with the island's charm and intriguing past making it a compelling subject for online content. Eighty years ago, the island hosted a secret poison gas factory that played a key role in Japan's illegal use of chemical weapons in occupied China. It was also a production site for the military's long-range, unmanned, incendiary "balloon bombs" that were used against the United States during World War II. Reiko Okada was mobilized to the island as a teenager for the war effort, helping the Imperial Japanese Army build balloon bombs known as "Fu-Go." Okada, now 95, is one of the few people still alive who has both a "gas notebook" for poison gas victims and an "A-bomb notebook" for survivors of the atomic bomb. Japan, which was a signatory to the Geneva Protocol of 1925 that prohibited the use of chemical and biological weapons, produced mustard gas and other deadly chemical weapons on Okunoshima, at what was the largest poison gas factory in Asia. Okada was sent to Okunoshima as a 15-year-old third-year student at Tadanoumi Girls' High School in Takehara -- near the seaside Hiroshima Prefecture city located on the main island of Honshu -- in 1945. After the United States dropped the atomic bomb on Aug. 6, 1945, effectively bringing about Japan's defeat in World War II, she also worked as a relief worker in the suburbs of Hiroshima. In an interview, the former art teacher from Mihara, Hiroshima Prefecture, declared her willingness to tell the "last story of my life" and warned: "If we do not face up to our responsibility as perpetrators of the war, we will repeat the mistakes of the past." At the end of 1944, the government had proclaimed "ichioku gyokusai," translated literally as "100 million shattered jewels." The phrase served as the last unofficial rallying cry of the empire, expressing the regime's willingness to sacrifice the entire Japanese population, if necessary, to protect the fatherland. Whenever Okada, who was mobilized in November of the same year, heard these words, she stared fixedly at the surrounding waters and thought: "I don't want to die." The following summer, when Japan was bombed by U.S. air raids in various regions, Okada and the other girls were suddenly ordered to "evacuate" poison gas materials to a neighboring island. In the sweltering heat, the schoolgirls donned work gloves and transported the chemical barrels to a dock, making more than a dozen trips a day for over two weeks. Okada says she and the others were given strict instructions by the army not to reveal Okunoshima's location to family or friends. On Aug. 15, students gathered in a square on the island to listen to the "Jewel Voice Broadcast" in which Emperor Hirohito announced Japan's acceptance of the Allied demand for unconditional surrender in a radio address. Then, for about two weeks from Aug. 18, she was involved in an A-bomb relief effort in a middle school auditorium in a suburb of Hiroshima. She says it was a horrific scene where people were dying every day. "It felt like a damp world of maggots crawling inside weakened bodies," she recalled. Okada, who had traveled to the city within two weeks of the bomb's detonation, was certified as a hibakusha -- atomic bomb survivor -- because she had entered the affected area shortly after the attack. Before that traumatizing period, she had spent time on the island in the weapons factory. There, she and her fellow students used a paste made from konnyaku root to build the unmanned, hydrogen-filled balloon bombs, which were 10 meters in diameter and made of Japanese washi paper. Carrying incendiary bombs and an advanced-for-its-time altitude control system, the balloons were able to ride the jet stream across the Pacific and reach North America. Between 1944 and 1945, more than 9,000 of these balloons were launched, mostly from three bases in Japan, and at least 300 are believed to have reached the U.S. mainland, where they caused wildfires but little other major damage. Okada realized her own culpability in the war, however, when she later learned that six people, including children, had been killed by a balloon bomb in western Oregon in May 1945 -- the only known casualties in the continental United States from an enemy attack during the war. After the war, Okada studied at a fine arts college run by Kyoto city. She returned to her hometown of Mihara, where she taught art at a local high school until her mid-50s, before devoting herself to painting privately and peace work. She suffered physical after-effects from her time in Hiroshima shortly after the bombing and from chronic bronchitis caused by her stint on Okunoshima. However, treatment allowed her to overcome her ailments. After the war, Okada also learned that poison gas weapons had wreaked havoc in China. In 1989, after retiring from teaching, she published a book of pictures documenting her war experiences and sent it to Chinese war victims to express her remorse and apologies. Since then, she has continued her anti-war campaigning through her drawing and writing. According to the U.S. military's post-war records, Japan produced 6,616 tons of poison gas that was used in over 7 million ammunition rounds, including artillery shells. Some of the poison gas munitions transported to China went unused and were left abandoned, causing problems when they were later found or unearthed. The Japanese government confirmed the "existence of abandoned chemical weapons" in a memorandum to the Chinese government in 1999. Currently, the total number of chemical weapon munitions left behind is estimated at more than 100,000. Japan and China are working together to dispose of them. Okada believes Japanese people "should accept causing a war as our responsibility, face it, reflect on it, apologize for it, make amends for it and ensure that it leads to friendship and peace." With various conflicts raging around the world, "we don't know when Japan will go to war," she said. "Each and every one of us must not be deceived, and we must all work together to prevent war. "Nationalism is the doctrine that must be feared the most." © KYODO
SoraNews24
12 hours ago
- SoraNews24
This traditional Japanese castle keep is home to a branch of government
Ruling the land from inside a Japanese fortress. As we enter a brave new world, where AI rapidly continues to permeate society, we're now being fed recommendations based on algorithms that analyse our interests, narrowing our view of what's really out there. That's not necessarily reason for despair, though, as it actually highlights the importance of human interaction and conversations, which are now more vital to broadening our horizons than ever before. With everyone seeing a completely different version of the Internet based on their interests, conversations can introduce us to surprises that would otherwise be completely hidden to us, and that's what happened when a friend told us about a place we absolutely had to visit — the Fukui Prefectural Government Office. Government offices are usually low on the list of places we'd ever think to visit for fun, but the reason for this recommendation became clear after taking a look at the location on a map. ▼ As you can see, this government office is surrounded by a moat. That's right — this site of bureaucracy sits on the site of a former castle, complete with moat and stone walls intact. The fortified site may come as a surprise to castle lovers, even in Japan, but those who know about it like to cheekily describe it as the strongest branch of government in the country. It certainly looks imposing from the road on the other side of the moat, and things get even more interesting when you cross over and enter the grounds. During the Edo period (1603-1868), this site was the headquarters for warriors belonging to the Matsudaira clan, and their spirit hangs in the air today, with the moat and stone walls being authentic remnants of the castle that date back to the 1600s. In addition to the original features there are some modern additions like a wooden castle gate, which helps to keep the government building secure. ▼ We don't know any other prefectural office that's protected by a castle gate. No original wooden buildings remain — the main castle tower was destroyed by fire in 1669 and never rebuilt — but with a lot of the stone features still standing from the time of the original castle, it's easy to feel like you've stepped back in time. ▼ This view would've looked somewhat different in the feudal area. While other castle sites in Japan are overrun with tourists, this little-known spot remains deserted a lot of the time, except for the presence of office workers, the modern-day samurai, so you can really connect to the history and beauty of the site in a special way. It's easy for the imagination to run wild in the quiet serenity here — so much so that we could easily imagine a fallen warrior taking refuge in the shade of this mossy, sloping wall. ▼ If these walls and lawns could talk, what stories would they tell? With Japan being prone to earthquakes, it's amazing that this site has survived several centuries. One close call came with the 1948 Fukui Earthquake, though, when some walls shifted, causing them to visibly tilt, as seen in the photo below. ▼ Another little-known but impressive site here is the well that gave Fukui its name. Called Fukunoi, or 'good luck well', this life-giving water source inspired the name of the castle and the surrounding area, making it an important historical site for the city. ▼ It's also a fascinating site for visitors. The good luck seems to have rubbed off on Fukui's residents as the prefecture was ranked the happiest in Japan in 2024 by the Japan Research Institute's 'Happiness Ranking of All 47 Prefectures'. Fukui has maintained this ranking for 12 consecutive years, proving its residents are doing well in terms of income, health, education, employment, and community connections. Then again, when you have your government looking out for you from a castle fortress, there's a strength and security in that knowledge that's bound to leave you feeling content. So perhaps this really is the strongest branch of government in the country! Site information Fukui Prefectural Office / 福井県庁 Address: Fukui-ken, Fukui-shi, Otemachi 3-17-1 福井県福井市大手3丁目17−1 Open: 8:30 a.m.-5:15 p.m. Closed: Saturdays and Sundays Photos ©SoraNews24 ● Want to hear about SoraNews24's latest articles as soon as they're published? Follow us on Facebook and Twitter! [ Read in Japanese ]
Metropolis Japan
18 hours ago
- Metropolis Japan
Ukai: The Ancient Japanese Art of Cormorant Fishing
Anyone who has ever cast a dry fly into a lake or stream knows that feeling. All is quiet, all is peaceful—then bam! A hungry mouth breaks the surface, the fly disappears into the depths, and the world becomes a thrashing primordial tug-of-war between worlds—man versus scaly beast. For hundreds of years, the Coast Salish people of British Columbia constructed massive weirs from willow trees to corral salmon as they migrated upstream to spawn. Hawaiian slings are designed to shoot their prey like an underwater bow and arrow. In the American South, brave noodlers stick their hands into catfish holes with their own fingers as bait. And in one small village in Scotland, flounder trampers walk into the shallows and simply step on their fish. Tickling, gigging, binning, gaffing, gillnetting, harpooning, handlining, seining, trawling, jigging—there might be even more ways to catch a fish than to cook one. Japan's Deep Connection to Fishing Bound by the sea and blessed with numerous rivers and streams, Japan has long been known as a nation of fish lovers, with different regions developing particular local cuisines along with unique methods for procuring a tasty catch. Ukai, the ancient Japanese tradition of fishing with tame cormorants, is surely one of the most unusual. Practiced in Japan for at least 1,400 years, ukai claims its origins from the Nagaragawa River in Gifu, where it endures to this day. The basic process involves tying loose wire rings around the long necks of the cormorants, enabling the birds to swallow small prey but causing larger fish to become stuck in the gullet. The fisherman, known as an usho, then pulls the cormorant back to the boat where he extracts the fish. The most sought-after catch is the ayu, a freshwater sweetfish prized for its delicate texture and flavor. While ukai in Gifu was once a practical form of obtaining fish to be consumed and sold, these days it survives for its cultural value. The traditions and skills handed down from parent to child through countless generations have led to ukai being designated as an Intangible Cultural Property of Japan and formally recognized as Goryo Ukai (Imperial Cormorant Fishing) by the Japanese Imperial Family. A Spectacle for Lords, Warlords and Travelers The entertainment value of ukai fishing was also recognized hundreds of years ago by the Japanese elite. As far back as the Heian period (794-1185), lords and ladies from the Imperial Court in Kyoto gathered on a pleasure craft to watch the usho and their birds in action. The warlord Oda Nobunaga was also charmed by ukai. After seizing Inabayama Castle by the Nagaragawa in 1567 and renaming it Gifu Castle, he began to invite friends and loyalists such as Takeda Shingen and future shogun Tokugawa Ieyasu to observe the cormorants and their masters at work, followed by banquets featuring their fresh sweetfish catch. Visiting Gifu Today: Modern Ukai Performances These days, a modern reconstruction of Gifu Castle perches beautifully, if ahistorically, atop Mount Kinka at a bend in the Nagarawa River, a picture-perfect backdrop to modern demonstrations of ukai. These ukai performances are held from May to October each year, drawing in curious onlookers from all over the world. Guests are taken out onto the river at dusk in long wooden boats, each tipped with a basket containing a blazing fire that attracts fish and provides the boatman and his cormorants with a light by which to see. If you are picturing a man and a bird linked by a single rope, think again. Each usho—clad in traditional blue shirt and hat to fend off sparks and ashes from the flames—controls his own personal fotilla of 10-12 cormorants like a master puppeteer, keeping a careful eye on the birds as they plunge underwater to catch fish. When I first witnessed it in person, the comparison that came to mind was not fishing-related at all, but of my father's hunting dogs in Canada, ranging out in front of him, searching for birds to flush out of their hiding spots. With flaming lanterns, dramatic scenery and trained diving birds, it is a wonderful spectacle unlike anything you will see elsewhere in the world. But at the end of the evening, as you sit down to your lavish post-ukai meal, it ultimately comes down to the simple pleasure of catching—and eating—fish.
