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Trial Record

3rd Oral Argument             March 4, 2021     Thursday        2:00PM

Written Statement of Opinion:
Chairman of Raporo Ainu Nation, Kouki Nagane

I am currently the representative of the Raporo Ainu Nation. The Raporo Ainu Nation was originally named the Urahoro Ainu Association, and was represented by Mr. Masaki Sashima for many years.

In 2020, we changed our organization's name to the Raporo Ainu Nation, in order to strongly express our feelings as an organization seeking to implement the return of 102 of our ancestors' remains that were stolen from Urahoro town and carried away to Hokkaido University and Tokyo University, along with seeking the recognition of our right to catch salmon.

My father, Kiichirō, was a long-time member of the Urahoro Ainu Association—or the Urahoro Utari Association, as it used to be called.

My paternal grandmother, Kiyono, came from the kotan of Shiroto (or Chirotto in the Ainu language) in Makubetsu. My paternal grandfather, Genjirō, was Tokachibuto Ainu.

Although I have always known on some level that I am Ainu, that does not mean I have always lived with a particular consciousness of what it means to be Ainu.

When my grandmother Kiyono passed away more than ten years ago in Atsunai, she had many photographs among her belongings. These photographs depicted women with tattooing around their mouths, as was common among married Ainu women. Some of these photographs also had an Ainu word, "Fuci,"[1] written on the flip side.

While looking at Kiyono's photographs, my mother told me many things about my grandmother, and I gradually began to develop an interest in the Ainu.

I graduated high school, and spent the next few years working as a helper on a dairy farm in Sarabetsu. My uncle, who was a fisherman in Atsunai, asked "why don't you come help me?", so I returned to Atsunai and now I am a fisherman.

I work as a member of the fixed-net fishers' cooperative, led by Mr. Masaki Sashima, and I also work with my uncle catching crabs, shishamo (smelt), whelk, and the like.

When I became a fisherman, I learned that all fishermen carry a small knife at their lower back, called a makiri. A makiri's scabbard is usually carved, so I carved Ainu designs into my own and, even today, I use it and hang it on my belt whenever I go fishing.

It was through the process of repatriating our ancestors' remains that I came to be strongly conscious of being Ainu. When I learned the details of how our ancestor's remains were exhumed and taken away by university professors, my first response was a strong resentment of these heartless acts.

Their return secured, our ancestors' remains were welcomed home to the cemetery in Urahoro, and we all made the preparations for the reburial and the ceremonies together. As we felled thin willow trees to shave into inau[2] and practiced for the kamuynomi and icarpa ceremonies, I gradually came to reflect on the long history, culture, and traditions of the Ainu. As a result, I became more strongly self-aware that I am Ainu, and how amazing it is to live as Ainu.

Last year, all of us members built a traditional Ainu dugout canoe and, using that canoe, caught more than 160 salmon from the Urahorotokachi River. As fishermen, we catch salmon from the ocean, but as Ainu, we catch salmon from the river as our ancestors did, which feels completely different.

Catching salmon in the river is the essence of Ainu culture itself, and I felt proud to catch salmon as an Ainu. Catching salmon, praying to the gods, and performing the kamuynomi ceremony as my ancestors did, my body trembled with the feeling that "I am Ainu."

In order to live with pride as Ainu—which is different than for Wajin—we absolutely need the right to catch salmon.

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about the conservation of salmon stocks. Some years ago, there was a severe rainstorm. The increasing volume of the river during the storm caused almost all of the juvenile salmon fry that had been released into the river to be washed away. However, even after the heavy rain, naturally spawned salmon fry could still be seen in the river.

At a glance, you can tell the difference between a salmon fry that has been released and one that has spawned naturally, because of the difference in size. At that time, I also found that, as I predicted, the survival rate of naturally spawned fry was higher. From that point on, I began to wonder whether the proliferation of the commercial hatchery industry has really been good for salmon.

While I continue to study this, I would like to think about how Raporo Ainu Nation can promote the conservation of salmon stocks.

[1] Ainu language word, used to refer to female elders.

[2] Ainu language word, used to refer to shaved wooden sticks used in Ainu ceremonies.

 

Translated from Hokudai Kaiji Bunsho Kenkyuukai Newsletter No.26

http://www.kaijiken.sakura.ne.jp/newsletter/Utaspanououpekare026.pdf

Translated by Michael J. Ioannides February 1, 2022

Raporo Ainu Nation's lawsuit over indigenous fishing rights

Trial Record

2nd Oral Argument            December 17, 2020           Thursday             3:00PM

Statement of Opinion of Mr. Masaki Sashima (Honorary Chairman, Raporo Ainu Nation)

  1. I am acting as the honorary representative of the Raporo Ainu Nation. The Raporo Ainu Nation was formerly known as the Urahoro Ainu Association, for which I served as Chairman for many years. In July of this year (2020), the Urahoro Ainu Association changed its name to the Raporo Ainu Nation, and I became its Honorary Chairman. Raporo derived from Ōraporo, the original name of Urahoro in the Ainu language. The reason we changed the name is because our ancestors created a community, or kotan,[1] which possessed the right to catch salmon from the Tokachi River, and we their descendants decided to become an organization with the goal of seeking recognition of this right to catch salmon. We changed the name due to our resolve to become an organization with the right catch salmon and the right to self-determination, as the former kotan was.
  2. It was when I graduated from high school that I first understood with certainty that I was Ainu. When I sent for the koseki[2] required for entrance into a university, I saw that that my grandparents' names were Ekoshippu and Monnosupa. I asked my mother who these people were, but she would not tell me anything. My parents tried to hide that they were Ainu. But they could not hide it. Although my father had obtained the right to catch salmon using a fixed shore net, he was harassed by the other Wajin[3] fishermen, who took many of the best fishing spots. I was also being bullied, and thought there was something strange about this. Even before high school, I had suspected that I might be Ainu. When I was in middle school, anything considered Ainu was violently bullied. As a child, I thought this was outrageous, but I couldn't do anything about it. When I entered into my forties, however, I decided to stop hiding my Ainu-ness and to declare, once and for all, that I am Ainu. In so doing, I found that those who had been harassing me up until then had begun to no longer harass me. My mother is Tokachibuto Ainu and my father is Shiranuka Ainu. And now my heart swells with pride to know that I am genuinely Ainu.
  3. Over the past five years, we have secured the return of 102 of our ancestors' remains, which were exhumed from the cemeteries of various kotan along the lower reaches of the Tokachi river, such as Aiushi and Tokachibuto, and carried away by researchers to Hokkaido University, Sapporo Medical University, and Tokyo University, along with additional artifacts from Tokachibuto that were excavated during the Edo period and were being held by the Historical Museum of Urahoro. It was when I participated in an icarpa memorial service in front of the Hokkaido University ossuary that I began to think that our ancestors' remains should be returned to us. Through my role in the Tokachi branch of the Ainu Association of Hokkaido, I made the statement that all Ainu remains should be returned to their places of origin, but I was laughed at by the executives of these organizations, who said such a thing would be impossible. However, believing that the return of our ancestors' remains was our right as Ainu, I filed a lawsuit and succeeded in recovering the remains. We became convinced that, without raising our voices, nothing could move forward.
  4. Three years ago, I visited a Native American tribe in the US state of Washington to study salmon fishing rights. In the 1960s, there had been a struggle between the state and the tribe over salmon fishing that came to be known as the Fish War. The tribe was victorious in asserting their rights in US Federal District Court in 1974, and later in the US Supreme Court. I learned that our predecessors were working tirelessly to protect their rights in the US, as well. Today, Native Americans are working with both state and federal governments to maintain riparian ecosystems and preserve salmon stocks. I too believe that we must conserve the Tokachi River's ecosystem and protect its rich natural environment, beginning with salmon stocks.
  5. I am following in my father's footsteps as the leader of the fixed-net fishers' cooperative. Although fixed-net fishing is more often done at sea, as Ainu, we nevertheless insist on fishing for salmon in the river. When we secured the return of our ancestors' remains, we also received the return of grave goods, including a handmade netting needle, an implement used for repairing nets. Based on the size of the netting needle, we think it was likely used as a tool for repairing gill nets used to catch salmon in the river. We learned that our ancestors were practicing gill net fishing in the river. I believe our ancestors lived plentiful lives, supporting their families by catching, processing, and trading salmon.
  6. Today, the river where our ancestors fished is known as the Urahorotokachi River. Although the Tokachi River of today flows to Toyokoro town in Ōtsu due to watershed development projects, the Urahorotokachi River was originally the main stream of the Tokachi River. Although it used to be more than 200 meters wide, the Urahorotokachi has become a narrow river of only 50 meters wide since its division from the upper reaches of the Tokachi River. The Tokachi River is now used as a water transport route and, at most, discharges only nine cubic meters of water per second. As a result, salmon of the Urahorotokachi watershed rarely use the Tokachi River to migrate upstream. Even still, for us, the salmon are a precious inheritance from our ancestors. Someday, I hope to make the Urahorotokachi River into a place where more salmon will return.

We want to catch salmon, not only as a lifestyle, but as an economic activity. In so doing, we wish for the Ainu to be able to live independently. We want to take back the river, take back the salmon, and take back our lives.

December 17, 2020

[1] Ainu language word meaning "village community".

[2] Japanese word meaning "official family register".

[3] Japanese word meaning "ethnic Japanese person".

 

Translated from Hokudai Kaiji Bunsho Kenkyuukai Newsletter No.25

http://www.kaijiken.sakura.ne.jp/newsletter/Utaspanououpekare025.pdf

Translated by Michael J. Ioannides February 1, 2022

Trial Record

3rd Oral Argument             March 4, 2021     Thursday        2:00PM

Statement of Opinion of Mr. Hiroki Nagane (Chairman, Raporo Ainu Nation)

Written Statement of Opinion:

Chairman of Raporo Ainu Nation, Hiroki Nagane

I am currently the representative of the Raporo Ainu Nation. The Raporo Ainu Nation was originally named the Urahoro Ainu Association, and was represented by Mr. Masaki Sashima for many years.

In 2020, we changed our organization's name to the Raporo Ainu Nation, in order to strongly express our feelings as an organization seeking to implement the return of 102 of our ancestors' remains that were stolen from Urahoro town and carried away to Hokkaido University and Tokyo University, along with seeking the recognition of our right to catch salmon.

My father, Kiichirō, was a long-time member of the Urahoro Ainu Association—or the Urahoro Utari Association, as it used to be called.

My paternal grandmother, Kiyono, came from the kotan of Shiroto (or Chirotto in the Ainu language) in Makubetsu. My paternal grandfather, Genjirō, was Tokachibuto Ainu.

Although I have always known on some level that I am Ainu, that does not mean I have always lived with a particular consciousness of what it means to be Ainu.

When my grandmother Kiyono passed away more than ten years ago in Atsunai, she had many photographs among her belongings. These photographs depicted women with tattooing around their mouths, as was common among married Ainu women. Some of these photographs also had an Ainu word, "Fuci,"[1] written on the flip side.

While looking at Kiyono's photographs, my mother told me many things about my grandmother, and I gradually began to develop an interest in the Ainu.

I graduated high school, and spent the next few years working as a helper on a dairy farm in Sarabetsu. My uncle, who was a fisherman in Atsunai, asked "why don't you come help me?", so I returned to Atsunai and now I am a fisherman.

I work as a member of the fixed-net fishers' cooperative, led by Mr. Masaki Sashima, and I also work with my uncle catching crabs, shishamo (smelt), whelk, and the like.

When I became a fisherman, I learned that all fishermen carry a small knife at their lower back, called a makiri. A makiri's scabbard is usually carved, so I carved Ainu designs into my own and, even today, I use it and hang it on my belt whenever I go fishing.

It was through the process of repatriating our ancestors' remains that I came to be strongly conscious of being Ainu. When I learned the details of how our ancestor's remains were exhumed and taken away by university professors, my first response was a strong resentment of these heartless acts.

Their return secured, our ancestors' remains were welcomed home to the cemetery in Urahoro, and we all made the preparations for the reburial and the ceremonies together. As we felled thin willow trees to shave into inau[2] and practiced for the kamuynomi and icarpa ceremonies, I gradually came to reflect on the long history, culture, and traditions of the Ainu. As a result, I became more strongly self-aware that I am Ainu, and how amazing it is to live as Ainu.

Last year, all of us members built a traditional Ainu dugout canoe and, using that canoe, caught more than 160 salmon from the Urahorotokachi River. As fishermen, we catch salmon from the ocean, but as Ainu, we catch salmon from the river as our ancestors did, which feels completely different.

Catching salmon in the river is the essence of Ainu culture itself, and I felt proud to catch salmon as an Ainu. Catching salmon, praying to the gods, and performing the kamuynomi ceremony as my ancestors did, my body trembled with the feeling that "I am Ainu."

In order to live with pride as Ainu—which is different than for Wajin—we absolutely need the right to catch salmon.

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about the conservation of salmon stocks. Some years ago, there was a severe rainstorm. The increasing volume of the river during the storm caused almost all of the juvenile salmon fry that had been released into the river to be washed away. However, even after the heavy rain, naturally spawned salmon fry could still be seen in the river.

At a glance, you can tell the difference between a salmon fry that has been released and one that has spawned naturally, because of the difference in size. At that time, I also found that, as I predicted, the survival rate of naturally spawned fry was higher. From that point on, I began to wonder whether the proliferation of the commercial hatchery industry has really been good for salmon.

While I continue to study this, I would like to think about how Raporo Ainu Nation can promote the conservation of salmon stocks.

[1] Ainu language word, used to refer to female elders.

[2] Ainu language word, used to refer to shaved wooden sticks used in Ainu ceremonies.

 

Translated from Hokudai Kaiji Bunsho Kenkyuukai Newsletter No.26

http://www.kaijiken.sakura.ne.jp/newsletter/Utaspanououpekare026.pdf

Translated by Michael J. Ioannides February 1, 2022

Raporo Ainu Nation's lawsuit over indigenous fishing rights

Trial Record

2nd Oral Argument            December 17, 2020           Thursday             3:00PM

Statement of Opinion of Mr. Masaki Sashima (Honorary Chairman, Raporo Ainu Nation)

I am acting as the honorary representative of the Raporo Ainu Nation. The Raporo Ainu Nation was formerly known as the Urahoro Ainu Association, for which I served as Chairman for many years. In July of this year (2020), the Urahoro Ainu Association changed its name to the Raporo Ainu Nation, and I became its Honorary Chairman. Raporo derived from Ōraporo, the original name of Urahoro in the Ainu language. The reason we changed the name is because our ancestors created a community, or kotan,[1] which possessed the right to catch salmon from the Tokachi River, and we their descendants decided to become an organization with the goal of seeking recognition of this right to catch salmon. We changed the name due to our resolve to become an organization with the right catch salmon and the right to self-determination, as the former kotan

It was when I graduated from high school that I first understood with certainty that I was Ainu. When I sent for the koseki[2] required for entrance into a university, I saw that that my grandparents' names were Ekoshippu and Monnosupa. I asked my mother who these people were, but she would not tell me anything. My parents tried to hide that they were Ainu. But they could not hide it. Although my father had obtained the right to catch salmon using a fixed shore net, he was harassed by the other Wajin[3] fishermen, who took many of the fishing spots. I was also being bullied, and thought there was something strange about this. Even before high school, I had suspected that I might be Ainu. When I was in middle school, anything considered Ainu was violently bullied. As a child, I thought this was outrageous, but I couldn't do anything about it. When I entered into my forties, however, I decided to stop hiding my Ainu-ness and to declare, once and for all, that I am Ainu. In so doing, I found that those who had been harassing me up until then had begun to no longer harass me. My mother is Tokachibuto Ainu and my father is Shiranuka Ainu. And now my heart swells with pride to know that I am genuinely Ainu.

Over the past five years, we have secured the return of 102 of our ancestors' remains, which were exhumed from the cemeteries of various kotan along the lower reaches of the Tokachi river, such as Aiushi and Tokachibuto, and carried away by researchers to Hokkaido University, Sapporo Medical University, and Tokyo University, along with additional artifacts from Tokachibuto that were excavated during the Edo period and were being held by the Historical Museum of Urahoro. It was when I participated in an icharpa memorial service in front of the Hokkaido University that I began to think that our ancestors' remains should be returned to us. Through my role in the Tokachi branch of the Ainu Association of Hokkaido, I made the statement that all Ainu remains should be returned to their places of origin, but I was laughed at by the executives of these organizations, who said such a thing would be impossible. However, believing that the return of our ancestors' remains was our right as Ainu, I filed a lawsuit and succeeded in recovering the remains. We became convinced that, without raising our voices, nothing could move forward.

Three years ago, I visited a Native American tribe in the US state of Washington to study salmon fishing rights. In the 1960s, there had been a struggle between the state and tribe over salmon fishing that came to be known as the Fish War. The tribe was victorious in asserting their rights in US Federal District Court in 1974, and later in the US Supreme Court. I learned that our predecessors were working tirelessly to protect their rights in the US, as well. Today, Native Americans are working with both state and federal governments to maintain riparian ecosystems and preserve salmon stocks. I too believe that we must conserve the Tokachi River's ecosystem and protect its rich natural environment, beginning with salmon stocks.

I am following in my father's footsteps as the leader of the fixed-net fishers' cooperative. Although fixed-net fishing is more often done at sea, as Ainu, we nevertheless insist on fishing for salmon in the river. When we secured the return of our ancestors' remains, we also received the return of grave goods, including a handmade netting needle, an implement used for repairing nets. Based on the size of the netting needle, we think it was likely used as a tool for repairing gill nets used to catch salmon in the river. We learned that our ancestors were practicing gill net fishing in the river. I believe our ancestors lived plentiful lives, supporting their families by catching, processing, and trading salmon.

Today, the river where our ancestors fished is known as the Urahorotokachi River. Although the Tokachi River of today flows to Toyokoro town in Ōtsu due to watershed development projects, the Urahorotokachi River was originally the main stream of the Tokachi River. Although it used to be more than 200 meters wide, the Urahorotokachi has become a narrow river of only 50 meters wide since its division from the upper reaches of the Tokachi River. The Tokachi River is now used as a water transport route and, at most, discharges only nine cubic meters of water per second. As a result, salmon of the Urahorotokachi watershed rarely use the Tokachi River to migrate upstream. Even still, for us, the salmon are a precious inheritance from our ancestors. Someday, I hope to make the Urahorotokachi River into a place where more salmon will return.

We want to catch salmon, not only as a lifestyle, but as an economic activity. In so doing, we wish for the Ainu to be able to live independently. We want to take back the river, take back the salmon, and take back our lives.

December 17, 2020

[1] Ainu language word meaning "village community".

[2] Japanese word meaning "official family register".

[3] Japanese word meaning "ethnic Japanese person".

 

Translated from Hokudai Kaiji Bunsho Kenkyuukai Newsletter No.25

http://www.kaijiken.sakura.ne.jp/newsletter/Utaspanououpekare025.pdf

Translated by Michael J. Ioannides February 1, 2022