From Women's Liberation to Lesbian Feminism in Japan

CHAPTER 3 • From Women’s Liberation to Lesbian Feminism in Japan Rezubian Feminizumu within and beyond the Ūman Ribu Movement in the 1970s and 1980s James Welker n contrast with the mid-2010s, in which LGBT issues have I become increasingly visible in Japan, in the 1990s groundbreaking lesbian (rezubian) activist Kakefuda Hiroko bemoaned the lack of attention given to lesbian issues within mainstream Japanese feminism. The feminist movement then, she observed, was oriented toward issues related to heterosexual women.1 Around the same time, activist and translator Hara Minako denounced the fact that lesbians were sometimes seen within the feminist community in Japan as a sexual threat to straight women. Some heterosexual feminists viewed lesbians as potential sexual predators— akin to men—and were clearly uncomfortable “participating in support groups or staying overnight in the same room at a women’s conference” with openly lesbian women, Hara explained.2 While these particular cri- tiques date to the 1990s, efforts in Japan to garner attention for lesbian issues among feminists and in society at large were by no means novel at the time. Also not new was the marginalization or overt rejection of those issues—as well as of lesbian-identified women themselves. Indeed, two decades prior, similar frustration was expressed by lesbians in regard to ūman ribu (women’s liberation), a radical feminist movement that coalesced in Japan in the middle of 1970.3 And yet, the rejection of lesbians and lesbian issues would seem to run counter to principles espoused by ribu activists. One notable aspect of ribu was the significant 50 6715_Book.indd 50 8/3/17 3:42 PM From Women’s Liberation to Lesbian Feminism 51 attention given within the movement not just to women’s social indepen- dence but also to the liberation of eros (erosu no kaihō)—that is, women’s sexual autonomy.4 In discourse circulating within the movement as well as commercially produced publications written or translated by individuals linked to ribu, practical information on women’s sexual and reproductive health, along with avenues for women’s sexual pleasure— including sex outside marriage and masturbation—were treated as vital components of this new wave of activism. Further, the institution of marriage and the normative family model were sharply critiqued and sometimes outright rejected by ribu activists.5 However, within the ribu movement, which peaked in the first half of the 1970s, and within the arguably less radical feminism and women’s studies that followed on ribu’s heels in the late 1970s and into the 1980s, one potential avenue for women’s sexual and romantic fulfillment was conspicuously neglected: the company of other women. Just as Kakefuda and Hara criticized the feminist community of the 1990s for its insensitivity to lesbian issues, two decades earlier the ribu movement had likewise been indicted by women who felt silenced or ostracized from feminist circles because of their same-sex attraction, as I will discuss below.6 As marginalized as lesbians were in the ribu and feminist spheres of the 1970s and 1980s, in this chapter I propose that the ūman ribu movement helped set the stage for the emergence of lesbian feminism ( rezubian feminizumu) in Japan both through the centrality of women’s erotic subjectivity—and of women’s subjectivity in general—within ribu discourse and activism, as well as through the creation by ribu women of spaces in which women could figuratively and literally step outside many aspects of patriarchal society. In the remainder of this chapter, I proffer a rethinking of the historical relationship between lesbian activism and feminist activism in Japan by drawing attention to the develop- ment of lesbian feminism within—rather than merely opposed to—ribu and other feminist activism in the 1970s and 1980s. Ūman Ribu Activism, Lesbian Activists, and Feminist Translation Anecdotal evidence as well as the scarce references to lesbian experi- ences in published ribu discourse makes it clear that the ribu sphere was, on the whole, not a welcoming space for lesbian-identified women—nor 6715_Book.indd 51 8/3/17 3:42 PM 52 James Welker for women merely considering the possibility of romantic or sexual rela- tionships with other women. Among open lesbians participating in ribu activities were women who were aware of a romantic or erotic attraction to females prior to joining the ribu movement, sometimes from a young age. For instance, Asakawa Mari, who was involved in ribu almost from its outset, became involved in late October of 1970 in the small but influential Group of Fighting Women (Gurūpu Tatakau Onna), led by ribu’s most visible activist, the highly outspoken Tanaka Mitsu. Asakawa soon moved into the tiny, cramped apartment that served as the group’s home base, joining a communal life with around nine other ribu activists. Before long, however, the openly lesbian Asakawa was told by one member that the women there didn’t like sleeping next to her because of her attraction to women. The discomfort caused by that situation, com- pounded by Asakawa’s dislike of what she perceived as Tanaka’s author- itarian leadership style, quickly led Asakawa to leave the group and to leave behind the ribu women she had thought were her comrades.7 Another lesbian-identified woman, Amano Michimi, who became involved in Group Fighting Women around 1972, was also quite open about her sexuality from the beginning, yet she herself did not feel she was treated poorly because she was a lesbian. Like Asakawa, however, she also had a personality clash with Tanaka, who forced her out of the group around six months after she joined. Unlike Asakawa, Amano remained connected with ribu activism for the next several years.8 In 1974 she would produce what was perhaps the first translation by a self-identified lesbian of lesbian feminist writing to be commercially published (dis- cussed below). This translation represents an important move toward rectifying the near absence of discussion of lesbians—translated or otherwise—in ribu publications.9 While locally produced writing dominated ribu discourse in general, translations of writing from the United States and Europe also played a key early role in some areas, particularly in regard to women’s health and sexuality. Given the dearth of locally produced writing about lesbians in the 1970s—and the fact that, at the time, most existing writing about lesbians was produced by and for men—translations of even highly culture- specific writing by and about lesbian women abroad served as invaluable resources for lesbians in Japan. In that regard, the translations of two collections of groundbreaking feminist writing from the United States, Women’s Liberation: Blueprint 6715_Book.indd 52 8/3/17 3:42 PM From Women’s Liberation to Lesbian Feminism 53 for the Future and Our Bodies, Ourselves (published in Japan in 1971 and 1974, respectively) were opportunities lost.10 The translators of each work omitted chapters focused on the place of lesbians within society in general and within feminism specifically.11 That Women’s Liberation was translated by a group of scholars lacking a strong connection to the ribu movement is evident in both the chapters they chose to include or omit, and in the way the primary translator, Takano Fumi, framed the collection.12 On the other hand, Our Bodies, Ourselves was translated by women philosophically and personally connected to ribu activism.13 Thus, the beliefs and priorities that guided the choices they made might be said to more closely reflect the ribu movement itself. While the translators of Women’s Liberation do not explain why they included some chapters and excluded others, the women who rendered Our Bodies, Ourselves into Japanese are overt about the many choices they made in creating their translation. The three translators, who came together specifically for this project, had planned to translate a mimeo- graphed version that had been informally circulated. Before they made significant progress, however, a commercial edition was published that had been substantially revised and expanded, including the addition of a number of new chapters. Among these new chapters was the contro- versial and groundbreaking chapter “In Amerika They Call Us Dykes.”14 As the translators explain in their afterword, while they still wanted to translate the whole volume, they realized they needed to abridge it to make the book affordable. Guided by the structure of the older version, the translators decided to concentrate on what they felt to be the “topics of greatest urgency” to women in Japan: women’s bodies, birth control, pregnancy, and childbirth.15 Although the translators did not include the new lesbian chapter, in a broader chapter on sexuality they did include a short section on homosexuality from the earlier edition that had been cut from the commercial edition.16 It is clear then that they did not completely disavow the topic of female homosexuality itself. This renders more credible their justi- fication for the “unfortunate” omission of the lesbian chapter: namely, that it was written by a lesbian group not otherwise connected to the Boston Women’s Health Book Collective, the group who put together Our Bodies, Ourselves. The translators also direct “those who are interested” to the translation already published in the new commercial ribu journal Onna erosu (Woman eros, 1973–1982).17 Although she had no connection 6715_Book.indd 53 8/3/17 3:42 PM 54 James Welker to any lesbian groups in Japan at the time, one of the three translators, Akiyama Yōko, later noted that she was concerned about leaving the chapter out but felt satisfied that it had been introduced to a lesbian group to translate.18 The lesbian “group” turned out to be the aforementioned Amano.

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