30 kone and kane: connections and money


Regular gift-giving is one of the practices that articulates this informal network of “personal relationships” (jinmyaku). But gift giving in Kyoto exists within existing networks of institutional and familial connections, it is a medium that signals an active relationship of obligations, of which the gifts are merely tokens (although they may be rather expensive tokens, and at times—such as the New Year and mid-summer— the volume of gift exchanges may be considerable1.) This means that those persons and families who are excluded from institutional connections (such as university or large corporate affiliations) cannot use gifting to enter into relationships of obligation. Although gift giving is seen as a practice that outsiders cannot perform correctly (as there are no correct reasons for outsiders to give gifts), this practice is not available as an official mode of national discourse. It is, however, integral to the local mode of state-nation governmentality that places top government officials—who are top-feeders on the gifting circuit—into a realm of economic security that has no relationship to their official salaries and perquisites. An entire gift economy elongates the vertical structure of the society, erecting pillars of social capital (with easy translations into cash) that attach to key positions in government/corporate hierarchy.

Where much of the gift giving in China (See: Yang 1994) seems to promote a reciprocal relationship of personal obligation, in Japan this usually promotes client/patron relationships that, in official spheres, resembles bribery and corruption—particularly when these “personal” relationships are allowed between corporations and government offices. Indeed, in both nations the practices of gift-giving2 may run counter to official, professional and bureaucratic standards and codes of ethics, but this hardly diminishes the scope of the practice. And there are also at times official acknowledgments of the practice as “customary.” Recent disclosures of these practices in South Korea have prompted the government there to decry the practice as the “Korean disease,” a social affliction that threatens economic growth.

In Japan, despite the token public prosecutions that always keep one or two politicians in the tabloids, the creation and care of personal connections to officaldom remains the chief social goal of most families. Here too is where the “outsider” status of Koreans is most keenly felt. Even those few who have the economic means to engage in active giving, lack the social capital to do so. And for the rest, when the favors are determined, they are confident these will not come their way. One of the third-generation Korean Madang organizers once compared his life to series of Sumo wrestling matches. “I go out and do my best, but even when I throw the other guy, the judgement always goes against me.”

counting connections

“Isolation follows from the way in which the emergence of a bourgeoisie has been halted; from the way in which the middle class has been incorporated into the hierarchy of business firms; from the way in which the school system, rather than educating citizens for Japan, produces administrators and salarymen for predetermined levels of the System's hierarchies. All this is most clearly demonstrated by the phenomenon of the so-called 'returning youngsters' (kikoku shijo) —Japanese children who have received an important part of their education abroad while their fathers were serving in overseas offices of their companies.”
(van Wolferen 1990, 431-432)

The realities of the reproduction of a privileged class in Japan through intermarriage and personal connections (jinmyaku) with the “gate-keepers” in institutions, such as the elite national universities, are suspected by many, and perhaps most. Public outcries about scandals over entrance-exam fraud occur with some regularity in the newspapers. And the differential access of wealthy, well-placed3 families to elite preparatory schools, often with automatic admission into elite “public” universities (until 1945 these were imperial universities) is not at all hidden. And the cultural economy of connections is nowhere as fully understood as it is at the bottom of the scheme—among Koreans and Japanese living in buraku neighborhoods— and at the top, where, as van Wolferen notes, connections (kone) mean everything:

“Connections are crucial to life in Japan at all levels of society. Success depends almost entirely on who one knows. Kone (a Japanised abbreviation of the English word 'connections') often provide the key to admission to desirable schools, and to finding good jobs. If one wants the best medical treatment, a special introduction to busy doctors is almost indispensable. Most Japanese are thoroughly indebted in this sense to numerous other Japanese, and others in turn are indebted to them; one of the main characteristics of Japanese life is an unremitting trade in favours.
In the upper levels of society, the kone multiply to form whole networks of special relationships. These may derive from one-time favours, school ties or shared experiences, or may involve intricate mutual back-scratching deals. They are referred to as jinmyaku -Jin meaning 'personal' and myaku a 'vein' such as is found in mineral deposits, so that jinmyaku means a vein, or web, of personal connections running through the fabric of society. Jinmyaku are much more widespread, and of incomparably greater importance, than old-boy networks in the West.
Among top bureaucrats, politicians and businessmen, marriage facilitates the building up of informal contacts with the élite. LDP politicians reinforce their positions by marrying the daughters of older, influential politicians, then match their own sons and daughters with the children of prosperous and influential businessmen. The resulting networks are known as keibatsu (family groupings through marriage). ...” (1990 109-110).

Kone (connections) and kane (money) form the grease of social movement (up or down) that is, in many small and a few larger (through university admissions) ways open to most Japanese families, although this opening eludes Koreans and Japanese living in buraku neighborhoods. Kyoto adds an additional feature—residential tenure—to the game of connections. As we will see in the organization of religious festivals, Kyoto maintains the privileges of its “old families” to the exclusion of newcomers, even newcomers with cash or fame.

1I spent a summer in a room I rented from the owner/headmaster of an elite kindergarten in Kyoto, and this person required a separate building to hold the gifts that flowed his direction from hopeful or grateful parents, and even this, was, at times inadequate. One day he called me over to his storehouse and told me to hold out my hands, into which he set cases of beer boxes of fruit, and other goodies that would no longer fit into this building. He looked at the bulging shelves and wondered out loud what he was to do the next day when the package delivery van showed up with yet another load.
2In Japan as well as in China, the ability to give a gift is not simply a matter of economic wherewithal. Politicians who forget this are often the first to hear from public prosecutors. Gifting is only one aspect of a more complex social relationship that, after all, must also conserve its established hierarchical order and practices of exclusion. It is precisely this conservatism that allows gifting to escape the label “bribery.” This is also why these connections work against foreign corporations, which do not have an established position within the local or national network.
3A friend teaching at a large private university in Kyoto revealed to me that more than a third of the entering students are admitted through “the side door” despite the fact that all students are required to take the same entrance examinations.

 


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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.Contact the author: B Caron