The Complicit Talk Shows and the Money Laundering Scandal of Prime Minister Kan
A 2015 essay citing Masayuki Takayama’s Themis column that exposes how Japan’s talk shows echo Asahi Shimbun’s propaganda without independent reporting, how TV commentators suppress truth under political pressure, and how former Prime Minister Naoto Kan allegedly engaged in money laundering through Korean pachinko connections and anti-Japanese groups.
October 28, 2015
The following is from Masayuki Takayama Cuts Through America, China, Korea, and Asahi, published in Themis (1000 yen).
Takayama—truly a man of iron and arguably the most honest journalist in postwar Japan—writes here with uncompromising clarity.
The Mystery of the Pachinko Black Funds — Was Prime Minister Kan a “Money Launderer”?
The Money-Laundering Scandal Ignored by TV Talk Shows
Television Commentary as Orchestrated Theater
I once served for about a year as a quasi-commentator on Fuji TV’s morning talk show.
Such programs always have prearranged scripts: “We’ll cue you on this topic, and you’ll respond like this.”
But since I was still an active reporter, they told me, “You, just speak freely—no rehearsal.”
That invitation brought disaster.
I spoke without calculation—told the plain truth.
At the time there was the Tokorozawa High School Incident.
The student council president declared, “We want to hold our graduation ceremony independently, not under the adults’ direction.”
A graduation ceremony is a formal act certifying completion of prescribed studies; it’s not like a wedding ceremony.
I wondered why such nonsense was being said—and sure enough, the student’s parents were staunch Communist activists.
Their obedient son turned the school into a stage for indoctrination.
The “independent graduation” was the centerpiece of that campaign, orchestrated by the parents and the leftist teachers’ union, with Asahi Shimbun volunteering as its publicist.
The Prefectural Board of Education appointed a principal with real backbone to confront the red coalition.
Asahi portrayed him as “a rigid principal crushing the students’ independence” and ran sentimental headlines like “Tears of Students Under an Oppressive Principal.”
The real problem lay with the TV talk shows: not one commercial network conducted its own investigation; all parroted Asahi’s line.
Their commentators—photographers, ex–baseball players, and the like—had no opinions of their own and cheerfully repeated whatever Asahi said.
Every program concluded with “That principal is troublesome indeed.”
October 28, 2015
Weak-Kneed Commentators Ōtani Akihiro and Kawamura Kōji
Our own talk show followed the same script: “Stubborn principal versus pure-hearted student leader.”
Unaware of that, I told the real story:
“There’s a specific political organization behind this student council president.”
“They’re manipulating these innocent students from outside.”
The program, which was supposed to end with “That principal is troublesome,” was thrown into confusion.
The next day, Asahi ran an article attacking me by name.
I hadn’t even mentioned “the Communist Party,” but their overreaction exposed themselves—it was laughable.
The TV network, however, wasn’t laughing.
After the broadcast, the department in charge was flooded with protest calls and faxes—“Fire that commentator!” “Retract the statement!”
They numbered in the thousands, paralyzing normal operations.
Fuji TV, to its credit, refused to yield to such pressure and did not dismiss me, but other stations were different.
NHK succumbed to mass protests from North Korea and rewrote history to say “The Korean War was started by South Korea.”
TV Asahi likewise declared that “the Japanese army abducted Korean women to become comfort women.”
Commentators like Akihiro Ōtani and Kōji Kawamura praise North Korea, and even when Beijing claims “the Shinkansen was a Chinese invention,” they remain silent.
They know that objecting would bring harassment to their networks and cost them their jobs.
They lie to make a living, though not without shame.
The directives behind those protests are obvious—the wording of every complaint is identical.
October 28, 2015
Prime Minister Kan’s Corrupt Donation Scandal
Even so, the phone assault that time was extraordinary.
Calls and faxes poured in at fixed hours, disrupting operations—a coordinated attack.
When thousands move in unison with identical wording, money is the motive power.
Just like the Democratic Party’s child allowance: “We’ll give you money—vote for us.”
They’re paid to call, fax, march, and demonstrate.
Even at 1,000 yen per protester, the cost of that campaign would reach several million yen.
Groups like the “Society for a New History Textbook” can’t mobilize such numbers—it’s too costly.
So where does all that money for constant protests come from?
At last, the answer appeared.
The Sankei Shimbun recently reported that Naoto Kan’s political funding group donated 62.5 million yen to anti-Japanese civic organizations, including one supporting Sin Gwang-su, a North Korean agent involved in the abduction of Japanese citizens.
Politicians are greedy for money.
They’ll take bribes, make deals, do anything for profit.
Never before has a politician freely handed over such an enormous sum to others.
Kan is particularly corrupt.
On the very day of the Great Earthquake, Asahi Shimbun exposed that he had received money from a pachinko operator—an ethnic Korean named K—from Yokohama.
When questioned in the Diet by MP Yōsuke Isozaki, Kan claimed, “I didn’t know K was a Korean.”
Nonsense.
Ninety-five percent of pachinko operators are ethnic Koreans; the rest are naturalized ones.
Everyone knows pachinko is a foreign-run industry.
That industry grosses 23 trillion yen annually.
With sixty outlets directly managed by North Korea, part of the profits are funneled into tax evasion and clandestine operations.
As calls to abolish pachinko grow, these black funds are used to block reform.
Asahi’s large “Opinion” feature titled “Stop Bashing Pachinko” was one such operation.
Funds also flow to politicians supporting Korean suffrage rights—one such case forced Maehara’s resignation.
In fact, part of it went to pro-North Korean lawmakers like Tetsuhisa Matsuzaki, who once assaulted a Self-Defense officer.
October 28, 2015
Did It Reach the Son of a Terrorist?!
The money the pachinko operator K gave Kan—just like the one to Maehara—was tainted.
Why, after collecting such shady funds with effort, would Kan so magnanimously donate tens of millions to civic groups?
There’s an explanation: as Sankei reported, the money came from “public subsidies to political parties.”
Indeed, portions went to pro-North Korean Diet members like Matsuzaki.
Viewed as a whole, the scheme becomes clear: black pachinko money was laundered through political donations and redirected to fund political movements such as the promotion of a terrorist’s son.
Kan’s guilt is not mere “illegal foreign contributions.”
He, as a proxy for the two Koreas, has committed a far graver crime—money laundering of pachinko funds for subversive activities.
(Themis, August 2011)