This interview was first published by the Stanford News Service.

The 2020 Summer Olympics have begun this week but public support among the Japanese public for the games has been generally low and their mood can be articulated through the succinct question: “Why are we doing this now?” says Stanford sociologist and Japan Program Director Kiyoteru Tsutsui.

The American Institute for Indonesian Studies and Michigan State University Asian Studies Center are holding the inaugural Conference on Indonesian Studies this week, June 23-26, 2021. The conference's theme is "Indonesian Studies — Paradigms and New Frontiers." On June 24, APARC's Southeast Asia Program Director Donald K. Emmerson delivered a keynote address, "Scholarship, Autonomy, and Purpose: Issues in Indonesian Studies." Watch the session below:

The Conference on Indonesian Studies seeks to expand research dissemination, activities, and collaboration on the academic study of Indonesia to better understand the archipelago's historical, cultural, linguistic, literary, artistic, economic, environmental, and political dimensions, as well as its role in the Indo-Pacific and the world. The conference connects scholars and academic communities from multiple disciplines based in Indonesia, the United States, the Asia-Pacific, and other global contexts.

1. Can you give us an overview of your research and the topics you’re investigating?

My research addresses the following question: Why are some authoritarian regimes more responsive to social unrest than others? While it might seem counterintuitive to think of authoritarian regimes in this light, repression and responsiveness often occur in tandem under authoritarian rule. Centered on a comparison between Vietnam and China, I document the steps that each has taken to address social discontent fueled by pervasive government seizures of rural land. In response to societal input between 2003 and 2017, Vietnam enacted comprehensive and programmatic reforms to reduce the permissible scope for government land expropriation whereas those enacted by China were relatively marginal and piecemeal. At the subnational level, this difference has had important implications for land rights and the security of villagers in both countries. In summary, despite their many similarities, the manner and degree of their responsiveness have varied. My research then traces the historical origins that undergird the political development and institutional character of Vietnam and China’s divergent responsiveness to social unrest. 

2. How did you first become interested in these topics?

My interest in the repressive-responsive character of authoritarian regimes stems from my preoccupation with questions of political legitimacy, societal resistance, and institutional dynamics in authoritarian contexts. One particular experience that stoked my interest was my visit to Wukan, Guangdong in 2016. Wukan was once hailed as an emblematic case of grassroots democracy and accommodation by the Chinese state, when villagers’ outcries against the local government’s seizure of their land resulted in the re-election of the village committee in 2012. Yet, when I visited in 2016, villagers expressed that nothing had changed, and that “everything that could be done has already been done.” This experience led me to question what responsiveness means in authoritarian contexts.

3. During the last year, the world has changed significantly because of the pandemic and fluctuating politics in many nations. Have these changing global situations given you any new insights into your research?

The pandemic has underscored the need for a nuanced and contextual understanding of democracies and non-democracies. For instance, the variation in state responses to COVID-19 suggests that there is no clear correlation between responsiveness or the effectiveness of government responses to COVID-19 and regime types. Consider Vietnam’s proactive approach and success at containing the pandemic as opposed to the US. Other recent developments such as the crackdowns on pro-democracy protests in Thailand and mass protests against the recent military coup in Myanmar showcase how quickly state responsiveness to social demands can erode, even in multi-party states.

4. What has your experience as one of our Shorenstein Fellows been like during this unusual period of time when we haven’t physically been together at APARC?

My fellowship has been remote, and I have therefore needed to be much more proactive to stay as engaged as possible. I have consulted with my mentor often over Zoom, and reached out to other scholars for their feedback and advice on my research. I have also especially appreciated the chance to participate in the China Social Science Workshop, where I've shared my work and learned from other presenters. Other postdoctoral fellows at APARC and I have also gotten together virtually to exchange stories and to share our experiences from this unusual year.  

5. What are some of the things you've done during this past year to give yourself a break from work and have some fun?

Due to the pandemic, I have been living back home to Austin, Texas, since March of last year. The last time that I was home for this long must have been after I graduated from college. So, for the first time in a long time, I've planted tomatoes, eggplants, and sunflowers in our garden, and I've really enjoyed watching them bloom and ripen. With everything growing, it feels like I've spent most of my break in our backyard defending our flowers, fruits, and vegetables from squirrels and bunnies! But luckily I also have our two dogs, Wishie and Sushi, to help me!

6. As the state of the pandemic changes and things in academia and our communities, what are some things you are looking forward to both professionally and personally?

I'm certainly looking forward to having conferences in person again! I'm also still not sure when it will be possible and safe for me to visit Asia again, especially Vietnam and China, but I have missed these places. I'm also learning Khmer this summer, and I'm excited to eventually visit Cambodia to pursue my research there.

A Long History of Hate

Like many racialized groups, Asians often face a variety of overt and covert attacks. As identified in the 2021 Stop AAPI Hate National report, overt violence and harassment of Asians includes acts such as yelling, bullying, physical attacks, and the use of racial slurs. Physical assaults increased from 10.2% of the total hate incidents reported in 2020 to 16.7% in 2021, while online hate incidents increased from 5.6% in 2020 to 10.2% in 2021.

For Min Zhou, these numbers are the most current evidence of a reoccurring cycle of violence and antagonism against Asians that reaches back to the earliest history of Asian communities in the United States.

“Historically, Asians have been considered an existential danger to the Western world and to American culture,” she explains. “They have been seen as a threat to the American working class and their struggle for labor dignity and rights.”

The first large migration of Asians into America was in the mid-1800s when workers from China joined laborers in the western United States in the booming mining and railroad building sectors. Initially praised as “useful workers” for their work ethic and willingness to endure backbreaking hours, Asian immigrants were quickly scapegoated as sources of vice and division when work became scarcer in the post-boom, contracting economy. Labor movements successfully codified discrimination against Asians in the 1875 Page Laws and 1882 federal Chinese Exclusion Act, and continued codifying systemic discriminatory practices in the Immigration Act of 1917.

Zhou explains that this kind of targeted discrimination against Asians resurfaces whenever Western society has felt cultural or economic competition with Eastern countries, citing the internment of Japanese Americans between 1942 and 1945 and the increase of violence against Asians following rising economic competition between East Asian and American auto manufacturers in the late 1980s and early 1990s.

“Anti-Asian racism today is nothing new,” cautions Zhou. “It is part of a longstanding history of systemic racism in the U.S.”

Understanding the Current Moment

But history is only one context for understanding violence against Asians. As Gabrielle Hecht, the chair of the REDI Task Force reiterates, “[There is] a tremendous variety of racists tropes, practices, and violence that run through American society that need to be addressed specifically as well as systemically.”

In the case of Asian discrimination, this includes dismantling the perceptions of the Asian American community as either a “model minority” or conversely as “perpetual foreigners.” As Eujin Park explains, both of these characterizations circumscribe Asian experiences into a framework of white supremacy and institutional violence.

Being seen as perpetual foreigners creates a narrative in which it is impossible for Asians to be authentically American or fully assimilate. The perception of being a model minority both upholds the myth that the U.S. is a race-neutral meritocracy and often fuels the perception that violence against Asians is limited to discrete personal experiences rather than part of a pattern of systemic and intersectional problems.

Examining how racialization intersects with sexualization, classism, ageism, and the broader Black-white paradigm of American race relations is crucial to understanding the very different experiences and varying types of discrimination within the Asian American experience. As a group, Asians are incredibly diverse, representing over 30 distinct countries of origin and innumerable cultural and ethnic groups. Over 60 and sometimes upwards of 70 percent of Asian communities in the U.S. are immigrants.

Looking to the Future

These overlapping and complicated realities of demographics, experience, and history mean that truly impactful advocacy against anti-Asian American violence will require equally interconnected and thoughtful partnerships and proactivity.

“This current moment is a significant opportunity for Asian Americans and our allies to expand our understanding of the violence that shapes Asian American lives and to turn our attention toward state and institutional violence,” says Eujin Park.

As for the particular responsibilities the Stanford community has in countering rising anti-Asian hate and violence, APARC Director Gi-Wook Shin, the moderator for the discussion counsels:

“It is not easy to participate in rational and constructive conversations, particularly those that are politically sensitive and involve many emotional components. Still, it is our duty as an academic community to confront these uncomfortable realities and engage ourselves in dialogue and discussions.”

This op-ed by Kiyoteru Tsutsui originally appeared in Nikkei Asia.

As the summer of racial unrest forced America to confront its racist past and present yet again, a book by Heather McGhee, The Sum of Us: What Racism Costs Everyone and How We Can Prosper Together, which documents how racial division prevents Americans from uniting to lift everyone's lot, has attracted a good deal of attention.

From welfare to education to policing, Americans have generally supported policies that lifted the white middle class. But as the middle class has become more racially diverse, politics has become a divisive zero-sum game, with many whites seeing government spending as shifting money away from them toward minorities, even if whites also benefit.

This politics of racial division forecloses a social consensus that could boost the U.S. as a whole, leading to flagging social infrastructure, sputtering criminal justice system reform and challenges in offering broad economic support even to counter the pandemic.

This is not a problem unique to the United States. Social scientists have studied the relationship between racial division and low levels of public goods provision in multiple countries and established that ethno-racially heterogeneous societies tend to provide less in the way of public services.

Plagued by suspicions that some groups might benefit more than others, diverse societies tend to have greater difficulty in reaching consensus and working together on a strategy for economic and social development that would improve everyone's lives.

On this count, Japan is at the other end of the spectrum. More ethno-racially homogenous than most other advanced democracies, Japan has fared well when it comes to providing public goods such as efficient public transportation systems, low crime rates and universal health care.

Japan is often quick to reach a broad consensus about government spending on public services, since people generally feel that everyone benefits if they all support each other. Strong social cohesion, facilitated by the relative homogeneity of the population, enables this social consensus that supports spending on public goods.

The flip side of this coin is Japanese society's persistent resistance to diversity and disruption. Used to the comfort of living and working with similar people, Japan has been criticized for its reluctance to accept immigrants.

In response, the Japanese government has rather clumsily allowed immigrant workers in recent decades, first encouraging the migration of Japanese-Brazilians on the basis of shared ethnic roots that were supposed to make it easy for them to assimilate.

Learning that the reality of Japanese-Brazilians' life in Japan did not support this idea, Japan then adopted trainee programs to bring in foreign workers on a temporary basis. With the emphasis squarely on the temporary nature of their stay, those who came to Japan under this scheme could not contribute toward the country's long-term diversity.

Faced with a declining population, Japan needs immigrant labor, and its business leaders have consistently supported accepting more migrant workers. In addition to addressing the labor shortage, a more diverse workforce would likely stimulate innovation and facilitate adaptation to changing economic environments. Much social science research has demonstrated positive relationships between diversity and innovation.

Yet Japan's leaders are having a hard time pressing ahead. While it is easy for the public to come to a consensus for policies that boost all Japanese, it has proved difficult for them to support any policy that would undermine Japan's homogeneity.

Aside from ethnic diversity, Japan's consensus-oriented society is generally resistant to change. Valuing the protection of all members, companies have been slow to streamline and transform their operations to adapt to the changing economic environment, resulting in the prolonged economic decline since the 1990s.

While Brazil is home to the world's largest overseas Japanese population, many Japanese-Brazilians who moved to Japan discovered it was not easy for them to assimilate.

Urged on by American consultants, Japan imported America's neoliberal economic model to revitalize its economy through this period, and the lifetime employment and seniority-based salary system has given way to a rise in temp workers and various attempts to introduce a merit-based salary system. These efforts have not met with much success, leaving behind a questionable legacy, including the suppression of wages after the labor shortage of recent years.

In the U.S., racial division undermines the provision of public goods that would reduce economic inequality. But its acceptance of diversity contributes to innovation and economic revitalization that keeps the U.S. at the vanguard of a new economy.

In Japan, ethno-racial harmony facilitates public goods provision that prevents economic inequality from spiraling out of control. But aversion to diversity and dissent makes it difficult to accept much-needed immigrant labor and to adapt to changes in the economic environment.

In both countries, these characteristics are ingrained into their social fabric and resistant to change. However, the two largest economies with a democratic polity have much to learn from each other, and they should work together to find solutions for their problems.

Otherwise, China's nondemocratic model could become the dominant model for economic success, with its top-down forced consensus and suppression of diversity.

Democracies have long proven better at correcting their mistakes and adjusting to changes in their environment. As the two largest democratic economies in the world, the U.S. and Japan should be able to overcome the cost of racial division and the cost of homogeneity respectively even if it takes decades to achieve that.