In January 2013, governments agreed to a legally binding global
instrument to govern mercury use. The Minamata Convention on Mercury was born
after a four-year period of negotiation. Almost 30 national governments from
the North and the South have provided financial support to the establishment
and implementation of the Convention. The Government of Japan—alongside Norway,
Switzerland, USA, Uruguay, and the Nordic Council of Ministers and the European
Union—is one of the big sponsors of the Convention that bears the name of a
small fishing village in Japan that came to be synonymous to environmental
pollution. Japan has come a long way from the days when Minamata pitted the
national and local government against the victims of Minamata disease and their
advocates, becoming a highly divisive issue in the island nation.
Minamata is close to my heart for many reasons. It touches
upon concerns that are central to me, namely ecosystem health and trampling on
local people’s rights by big business and authoritative government. In brief,
the history of the Minamata pollution case is as follows. In 1956, four
patients with severe but undiagnosed symptoms were brought to the Minamata City
Hospital on the southwestern Japanese island of Kyushu. All had similar
symptoms, including severe convulsions, high fever and intermittent loss of
consciousness, before they lapsed into coma and died. As this disease was
undiagnosed, a local doctor, Dr. Hajime Hosokawa, started investigations into
the cases and engaged local health centers in an epidemiological study. He
found that in the nearby fishing villages altogether 17 other people had died
of similar attacks. There were also reports of local cats succumbing to the
ailment following uncontrolled convulsions.
What all of the victims had in common was that they all had
consumed large amounts of fish and seafood from the Minamata bay. The epidemiologists
soon honed in on environmental pollution as the cause of the disease. Studies
found that the sludge from the bay contained high concentrations of various
industrial chemicals, so the researchers contacted Chisso, a chemical company
that had its plant in Minamata. From the very beginning, Chisso was
uncooperative and refused to release any information to the researchers. It was
clear, however, that for many years Chisso had released its untreated
wastewater directly into Minamata bay. Similarly, Kumamoto University
engineering department that had collaborated with Chisso stonewalled the
medical researchers. When the medical team released its findings that showed that
the probable cause for the disease and deaths was heavy metal poisoning, Chisso
produced its own report that disputed these findings.
Finally, the medical team was able to conclude that the
culprit beyond any doubt was methyl mercury that the chemical plant had
discharged into the bay. There were massive concentrations of mercury in the
sludge from the bay, as well as in the fish and the people who had died from
eating it. The epidemiological study was able to produce a conclusive map
showing one-to-one distribution of the poisoned fish and the occurrence of the
disease. The company had kept its use of mercury in the plant as an industrial
secret. Chisso continued its own studies but in 1959 was forced to conclude
tentatively that mercury was, indeed, the likely cause of Minamata disease.
Case closed, one would think. Far from it, as it turned out.
Chisso was the main source of income for the remote region that had suffered
greatly in the Pacific War. Following the war, Japan adopted a self-sacrificing
strategy to rebuild at a frantic pace and at any cost catch up with the West.
General Douglas MacArthur ruled in an imperious way in Tokyo as the Supreme Commander
of the Allied Powers occupying Japan promoting American values and morals. It
had been decided not to punish many of the militarists from wartime Japan,
especially the wealthy industrialists who had supported Japan’s military
ventures, so as to support quick economic development. Japan would be formed
into a Western-oriented bulwark against the communists in China, Russia and
North Korea (MacArthur was later relieved of his duties as the commander of the
American forces in the Korean War by President Truman, partly because of the
former’s suggestion to use the atomic bomb against the communist targets). The
Japanese wholeheartedly agreed: democracy should not come in the way of this
project. People’s rights and the natural environment were secondary
considerations to be sacrificed for economic growth.
Consequently, Chisso’s success was to be protected. Although
the link between its waste disposal and the increasingly widespread Minamata
disease causing the death of numerous people was undisputed, the plant
continued to release mercury into the bay until 1968. The community in and
around Minamata was conflicted. Many people depended on the industry for their
livelihood and the victims tended to be poor fisherman families from the coast.
The fact that the terribly painful disease caused physical and mental symptoms,
such as grotesque convulsions and lapses into crazed mental states, further
contributed to the fact that many of those not affected considered the victims
freaks who should not be allowed to derail progress.
An American photographer Eugene Smith documented the
suffering of the victims in powerful photographs, which touched me deeply. In
1972 he was physically attacked by Chisso employees trying to stop him from
publicizing the case to the outside world. Chisso throughout refused to
negotiate directly with the victims and insisted on third party mediation by
the local and national governments. These clearly sided with the company to
ward off any lawsuits that were being put forward by the victims and their
advocates.
Funding was cut from research teams working on the Minamata
disease. Academics, such as Jun Ui, who conducted research around the issue
from a social science point of view were ostracized by the establishment. A
brilliant writer and a conscientious researcher, Prof. Ui was unable to secure
tenure in Tokyo or anywhere in mainland Japan and finally ended up in the
University of Okinawa in the Ryukyu archipelago halfway towards Taiwan.
In 1990 I moved to Japan and only a few months later became
involved in the Minamata case. I was working with the United Nations University
in Tokyo as coordinator of environmental research when we were approached by
officials from the Kumamoto prefectural government where Minamata is located asking
our cooperation to turn Minamata’s reputation from an environmental disaster to
an environmental model. The then vice-rector Prof. Roland Fuchs and I traveled
to Kumamoto and Minamata to learn about the plans. This was still a time when
legal cases from the pollution events in the 1950s and 1960s were lingering in
the courts unresolved, but the local government had decided to move on. True to
Japanese approach to things, technology and engineering were to be the
solutions. The entire bottom of the semi-enclosed Minamata bay had been dredged
and the polluted sludge had been sealed off by a plastic sheet, which then was
covered by clean soil. The opening of the bay to the ocean was blocked by a
net, which would prevent fish from crossing and spreading pollution. A bamboo
forest was being created to symbolize harmony with the nature. Our local
government hosts, Mr. Tanaka, a serious young man, and his boss, more animated
Mr. Kamakura, were very proud of the work being undertaken—and rightly so.
It struck me how beautiful the natural landscape in Minamata
was. There were no major signs of environmental pollution and the industry
didn’t dominate the scenery. We flew in through the southern city of Kagoshima,
over the active volcano Sakurajima that was sending up plumes of white smoke
even as we landed; then drove up the western coast of Kyushu on a road between
forested mountains and the sea. Minamata itself was a quiet and peaceful town by
the secluded bay. It was easy to see why the pollution had had so drastic
impacts in the area, as the bay was really self-contained and the outlet to the
wider ocean quite narrow. I remember taking morning walks on this and several
later visits in the years to come around a small island just off the coast
connected by a narrow causeway and enjoying the complete peacefulness. Of
course, a partial cause of the peacefulness was that the area had been somewhat
depopulated as a consequence of the disaster and the later decline of Chisso.
The government had built a multipurpose hall with hotel
facilities on the site. The modern complex was complete with a karaoke bar with
beautiful hostesses imported from the Philippines. We visited the National Minamata
Disease Research Institute that had been established in the vicinity. As the
facts were still being obscured and the government insisted on such low numbers
of proven victims from the pollution that they seemed highly improbable to us,
we asked the doctor in charge of the research institute what he thought were
the real numbers. “Virtually everyone living in this region was affected to a
smaller or a larger degree,” he responded with a convulsive tick to his eye.
We agreed to cooperate with the local government in organizing
an international conference in the new hall in Minamata, provided that we would
be fully in charge of selecting the international speakers and that they would
have complete academic freedom to speak about the issues. This was agreed to
and we were hosted to a fabulous seafood dinner in a traditional inn by the mayor
of Minamata City. Given that mercury and other heavy metals don’t just
disappear from the nature in a few years or decades, I remember observing with
Roland whether our meal would glow suspiciously in the semi-darkness of the
dining room.
The conference on ‘Industry, the environment and human
health’ was held in November 1991. The two-day meeting featured keynote
speeches by experts on global mercury pollution, Dr. Jerome Nriagu of
Environment Canada and Prof. Phillippe Grandjean of Odense University in
Denmark. There was a session focusing on the Minamata case with leading
Japanese researchers, including Dr. Masazumi Harada of Kumamoto University, and
the second day was largely dedicated to exploring similar problems from other
parts of the world. One of the speakers was Prof. Geraldo de Assis Guimarães
who had studied the impacts of widespread mercury use in gold extraction in the
Amazon region. Prof. Guimarães was a warm somewhat pudgy man, speaking from his
heart about the subject he had dedicated his life to. His English was good but
spoken with a strong Brazilian accent and we came to appreciate his favorite
phrase: “This is very important!”
Although it was a scientific conference, the event attracted
a large audience of around 1,000 people, mostly local inhabitants, and was
covered widely by the media, including several Japanese TV stations,
demonstrating the interest that Minamata disease continued to raise. It was
heartening to meet with the local people and to witness their dedication to
environmental issues. The international participants were also taken to visits
to the National Minamata Disease Research Institute, the Meisuien
rehabilitation institute for the victims, and even to Chisso Corporation, which
now was collaborating in the environmental rehabilitation, while still
resisting any responsibility for the original cause.
The conference was a great success and it was celebrated
with a lavish party held in a fabulous garden restaurant on a hill overlooking
Minamata bay. Kamakura-san was ecstatic, gulping sake and dancing the night
away with anyone who wanted to join or by himself if needed. When the exclusive
fireworks started from a barge on the bay, Prof. Guimarães approached me with a
glass in hand. “This is very important,” he intoned with a broad smile.
The scientific advisor to the conference, Richard Carpenter
emphasized the necessity of risk assessment. Although the engineering works in
the bay appeared solid, it would still be important to monitor the condition
and the effectiveness of the sheet in place to contain the polluted sludge. The
government representatives wanted to downplay this aspect and objected to
including the recommendation into the report of the conference, so that it
would not alarm the citizens and draw attention to a possible risk in the
perfect rehabilitation plan. Although the event was fully financed by the
authorities, we invoked our agreement regarding academic freedom and included
the damning segment in the report. For a while it strained our relationship,
but it was soon mended and we had the pleasure of cooperating with Kamakura and
Tanaka on a second Minamata environmental conference already the following
year.
The Minamata case continued to be
fought in the courts. The judiciary branch in Japan doesn’t enjoy quite the
same extent of independence as in the West and it was obvious that the
plaintiffs were facing an uphill struggle, despite an initial victory in a
first suit for compensation in 1967. The legal cases lingered for many long
years as a consequence of deliberate delaying tactics. It was only in July 1994
when the Osaka District Court finally decided on a suit filed by 59 plaintiffs
in 1982 ordering Chisso to pay rather low compensation (¥3-8 million—or about
US$30,000-80,000—per surviving victim), while entirely exonerating the national
and Kumamoto prefectural governments from any responsibility. By the time of
the verdict, 16 of the plaintiffs had already died. In the following year,
1995, there was a mediated settlement reached between the main group of some
2,000 Minamata disease victims and the government.
So it is more than comforting
that a new global Convention on Mercury is named after Minamata and strongly
backed by the Japanese government. The Convention will open for signature by
governments in Minamata in the coming October. In the meantime, the governments
negotiating the Convention
selected the Global Environment Facility to serve as the key element of the
financial mechanism of the treaty. This is another personal connecting point,
as when I left the UN University in 1999, I joined the GEF in its monitoring
and evaluation unit in Washington, DC. As it happened, Roland Fuchs was also
living in the national capital region by then and we could continue our
interactions there. But that’s another story.
