What do you think?
Rate this book
愛国の罠
世界的な右傾化、排外主義のなかで、私たちは「愛国心」どう向き合えばいいのか。本書では、古典的な書籍をもとに「国家」や「国民」の概念を整理しつつ、ウクライナ戦争やトランプ大統領、日本の参議院選挙など、具体的な諸問題を取り上げる。21世紀の新しい「愛国心」論をテーマにした、佐藤優の7時間にわたる講義録。
294 pages, Paperback
Published October 15, 2025
2 people want to read
About the author
佐藤 優
259 books9 followers Satou Masaru
Diplomat, writer. Master of Theology (Doshisha University 1985)
Diplomat, writer. Master of Theology (Doshisha University 1985)
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 of 1 review
November 20, 2025
“Obedience on your face; betrayal in your heart.” In Japanese, 面従腹背 — “face-obedient, guts-betray.” A useful idiom for students of Japanese that earns a prominent place in this work on statehood, populism, patriotism and geopolitics.
The author, Satou Masaru, uses this idiom to describe Japan’s post-invasion Ukraine foreign policy. And Satou-san knows what he is talking about, having once been one of Japan’s senior men in Moscow, known to his colleagues as the “Rasputin of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.” (This was before the author spent a decent amount of time in jail as collateral damage from one of Japan’s numerous political scandals too tedious to explain, during which he wrote a book about his experiences and emerged as one of Japan’s few public intellectuals.)
Satou-san outlines a three-factor framework for analysing Japan’s — or, in fact, any country’s — foreign-policy decisions: values, the economy and power. All three must be considered; foreign-policy failure often comes from forgetting one or more of the triad.
As for values, Japan seems aligned with the West; invading other countries and bombing their citizens is frowned upon.
Economically, the situation is more nuanced and, based on an assessment that Russia would win the war and it was best not to alienate the winning side, Japan has kept its options open. Japanese planes no longer fly the Siberian route to Europe, but not because of any mutual airspace-transit ban; rather, Japanese planes cannot obtain insurance for the route. Japan continues to buy energy from Russia and do business in other areas.
On the power side, not looking good. The less said the better.
Hence, deliberately or accidentally and once again, Japan brings out its ever-useful “obedience on your face” approach to foreign policy: appear to stand with the West on Ukraine, but keep your options open. All very well, but the author then makes a striking comment on this policy that is worth repeating in the original Japanese alongside a translation.
“やはりこれが生き残るコツなんです。こういったとき日本の公用語が英語だったりすると、新聞などを分析されてすぐにばれてしまうのですが、幸いにして、『悪魔の漢字』で書いてある日本語だからなかなか分かりにくいという利点もあるわけです。”
Or in English:
“After everything is said and done, this is the key to survival. If Japan’s official script happened to be the English alphabet, our intentions would be rumbled at once just by going through the newspapers. Thank God everything is written in Japanese using those ‘devilish kanji’. It is so much harder for outsiders to decipher — and that works to our advantage.” *Note
Well, Satou-san, you’ve been busted. Not only has a foreigner managed to read your “devilish kanji”, but he has also put your thoughts on them in the first review of your book on Goodreads, within only a month of its publication!
Luckily for you, I am prepared to forgive and forget your Rasputin-like deviousness, as in the world of geopolitics a little bit of relatively harmless two-facedness ranks well down the register of bad behaviour when compared with, for example, assembling an invasion fleet off the coast of Venezuela and blowing up innocent fishing boats with no more justification than the whims of a dotard on the particular day the bombs are dropped.
This amusing reference to “devilish kanji” is an allusion to an anecdote earlier in the book in which Kishida-san, Japan’s Prime Minister at the time, presented the President of Ukraine, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, with a Japanese wooden cooked-rice scoop — a shamoji — on which the characters 必勝 (“certain victory” — hisshō) had been carved in a somewhat “devilish” kanji font. A poor substitute for something more tangible and less spiritual, such as trucks, rations, bandages and so on (Japan would be forbidden under its constitution from providing arms).
One of Russia’s diplomatic agents contacted the author after the presentation of this gift to ask its meaning and whether the Japanese Prime Minister was serious. As any loyal diplomat would, the reply was that of course the Prime Minister was. Our author was left speculating as to whether or not a report reached the ears of the Kremlin that Japan’s political elite still believe in the power of animism to win wars. My observations suggest that they do.
The bulk of the book is taken up with a very entertaining summary of Western and Japanese academic work on the definition of a “state”, the history of statehood, and the definition and analysis of nationalism, patriotism and various related concepts. Imagined Communities gets a mention, of course, along with other well-known works, all well explained. I will spare you the details.
My one criticism of this otherwise educational and entertaining work is that for a few pages it veered off into a little bout of nihonjinron.
Nihonjinron (日本人論 — “the theory of the Japanese people”) is a popular genre in Japan, focusing on the supposed special characteristics and innate superiority of the Japanese people. My wife is something of an expert in the field, frequently sharing its latest findings with me.
Most of the world outside Japan sees nihonjinron as a pseudo-science, and more than a few academics in Japan have moved on to study the origins of nihonjinron itself — a topic interesting in its own right: “the theory of the theory of the Japanese people”. However, the author’s diversion into the topic has at least inspired me to pioneer the “Theory of British People”, which focuses on the inability of British people to get anything done these days and their innate love of hot brewed beverages. I will be sharing my findings with the wife once worthwhile progress has been made.
But I can forgive Satou-san for his diversion into nihonjinron, given that his book ends with a highly effective discussion of what patriotism really means: a love of the law and the constitution that represents the will of the people of that country, regardless of whatever the latest claims by the most venal politician are to speak for them.
This discussion was also Satou-san’s chance to put in its place one of the newest and nastiest Japanese political parties since 1945 to emerge from those stones under which fascists love to hide — Sanseitou.
Sanseitou is one of the newest and fastest-growing political parties in Japan. In the most recent nationwide election, it was the most popular party among voters under the age of fifty. A comparison with right-wing parties outside Japan might see it as about 60% Alternative für Deutschland and 40% the MAGA movement. Charlie Kirk visited Japan for an introduction to their membership just prior to his untimely death.
Like their MAGA brethren, Sanseitou are anti-vax and specialise in a variety of conspiracy theories. The difference is that their conspiracy theories have their own distinctive Japanese flavour, which makes them particularly bizarre. Bread is a conspiracy of Western drug companies to promote cancer and sell cancer drugs; everyone should eat rice (yes, bread — the stuff you spread butter on). International financial capital run by “the Jews” has been controlling the Japanese economy for centuries, sucking the country dry. Some old favourites never die. (I know about this because the Israeli ambassador called it out in a tweet a while ago.)
Unfortunately, Sanseitou are not all fun and conspiracy theories. I have seen Sanseitou supporters caught on video asking people attending their meetings — whom they suspected might be of Korean descent — to pronounce a particular phrase: 十五円五十銭 (jūgo-en gojissen – “15 yen 50 sen”)
The significance of this phrase is that, in the aftermath of the Great Kantō Earthquake of 1923, it was used by vigilantes to differentiate between native Japanese speakers and non-native speakers, probably of Korean descent, as the phrase was considered difficult for a non-native speaker to pronounce correctly. Misinformation spread after the earthquake led to the belief that Korean people were poisoning the water supplies in the Kantō region, and as a result approximately four thousand “non-native speakers” were murdered by vigilantes. In essence, the Sanseitou supporter was making a genocidal threat to the person he was addressing at their street assembly.
It has taken a surprisingly long time for the right-wing disinformation and hatred machine to catch up in Japan, but it has arrived and made a splash very quickly. Even the Japanese Prime Minister is on board. At the start of her leadership campaign she spread the lie that foreign tourists were visiting the Nara Deer Park in her constituency in order to kick the Sacred Deer of Nara. In doing so, she was copying Vance’s and Trump’s attempt to demean foreigners and bring them down to the level of animals with their “immigrants are eating the pets” propaganda. Sad that she should stoop so low.
So congratulations and five stars to Satou-san as a public figure for putting out a work aimed at fake patriotism so early in the game. A little diplomatic two-facedness and some mild nihonjinron can easily be forgiven in the circumstances.
The author, Satou Masaru, uses this idiom to describe Japan’s post-invasion Ukraine foreign policy. And Satou-san knows what he is talking about, having once been one of Japan’s senior men in Moscow, known to his colleagues as the “Rasputin of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.” (This was before the author spent a decent amount of time in jail as collateral damage from one of Japan’s numerous political scandals too tedious to explain, during which he wrote a book about his experiences and emerged as one of Japan’s few public intellectuals.)
Satou-san outlines a three-factor framework for analysing Japan’s — or, in fact, any country’s — foreign-policy decisions: values, the economy and power. All three must be considered; foreign-policy failure often comes from forgetting one or more of the triad.
As for values, Japan seems aligned with the West; invading other countries and bombing their citizens is frowned upon.
Economically, the situation is more nuanced and, based on an assessment that Russia would win the war and it was best not to alienate the winning side, Japan has kept its options open. Japanese planes no longer fly the Siberian route to Europe, but not because of any mutual airspace-transit ban; rather, Japanese planes cannot obtain insurance for the route. Japan continues to buy energy from Russia and do business in other areas.
On the power side, not looking good. The less said the better.
Hence, deliberately or accidentally and once again, Japan brings out its ever-useful “obedience on your face” approach to foreign policy: appear to stand with the West on Ukraine, but keep your options open. All very well, but the author then makes a striking comment on this policy that is worth repeating in the original Japanese alongside a translation.
“やはりこれが生き残るコツなんです。こういったとき日本の公用語が英語だったりすると、新聞などを分析されてすぐにばれてしまうのですが、幸いにして、『悪魔の漢字』で書いてある日本語だからなかなか分かりにくいという利点もあるわけです。”
Or in English:
“After everything is said and done, this is the key to survival. If Japan’s official script happened to be the English alphabet, our intentions would be rumbled at once just by going through the newspapers. Thank God everything is written in Japanese using those ‘devilish kanji’. It is so much harder for outsiders to decipher — and that works to our advantage.” *Note
Well, Satou-san, you’ve been busted. Not only has a foreigner managed to read your “devilish kanji”, but he has also put your thoughts on them in the first review of your book on Goodreads, within only a month of its publication!
Luckily for you, I am prepared to forgive and forget your Rasputin-like deviousness, as in the world of geopolitics a little bit of relatively harmless two-facedness ranks well down the register of bad behaviour when compared with, for example, assembling an invasion fleet off the coast of Venezuela and blowing up innocent fishing boats with no more justification than the whims of a dotard on the particular day the bombs are dropped.
This amusing reference to “devilish kanji” is an allusion to an anecdote earlier in the book in which Kishida-san, Japan’s Prime Minister at the time, presented the President of Ukraine, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, with a Japanese wooden cooked-rice scoop — a shamoji — on which the characters 必勝 (“certain victory” — hisshō) had been carved in a somewhat “devilish” kanji font. A poor substitute for something more tangible and less spiritual, such as trucks, rations, bandages and so on (Japan would be forbidden under its constitution from providing arms).
One of Russia’s diplomatic agents contacted the author after the presentation of this gift to ask its meaning and whether the Japanese Prime Minister was serious. As any loyal diplomat would, the reply was that of course the Prime Minister was. Our author was left speculating as to whether or not a report reached the ears of the Kremlin that Japan’s political elite still believe in the power of animism to win wars. My observations suggest that they do.
The bulk of the book is taken up with a very entertaining summary of Western and Japanese academic work on the definition of a “state”, the history of statehood, and the definition and analysis of nationalism, patriotism and various related concepts. Imagined Communities gets a mention, of course, along with other well-known works, all well explained. I will spare you the details.
My one criticism of this otherwise educational and entertaining work is that for a few pages it veered off into a little bout of nihonjinron.
Nihonjinron (日本人論 — “the theory of the Japanese people”) is a popular genre in Japan, focusing on the supposed special characteristics and innate superiority of the Japanese people. My wife is something of an expert in the field, frequently sharing its latest findings with me.
Most of the world outside Japan sees nihonjinron as a pseudo-science, and more than a few academics in Japan have moved on to study the origins of nihonjinron itself — a topic interesting in its own right: “the theory of the theory of the Japanese people”. However, the author’s diversion into the topic has at least inspired me to pioneer the “Theory of British People”, which focuses on the inability of British people to get anything done these days and their innate love of hot brewed beverages. I will be sharing my findings with the wife once worthwhile progress has been made.
But I can forgive Satou-san for his diversion into nihonjinron, given that his book ends with a highly effective discussion of what patriotism really means: a love of the law and the constitution that represents the will of the people of that country, regardless of whatever the latest claims by the most venal politician are to speak for them.
This discussion was also Satou-san’s chance to put in its place one of the newest and nastiest Japanese political parties since 1945 to emerge from those stones under which fascists love to hide — Sanseitou.
Sanseitou is one of the newest and fastest-growing political parties in Japan. In the most recent nationwide election, it was the most popular party among voters under the age of fifty. A comparison with right-wing parties outside Japan might see it as about 60% Alternative für Deutschland and 40% the MAGA movement. Charlie Kirk visited Japan for an introduction to their membership just prior to his untimely death.
Like their MAGA brethren, Sanseitou are anti-vax and specialise in a variety of conspiracy theories. The difference is that their conspiracy theories have their own distinctive Japanese flavour, which makes them particularly bizarre. Bread is a conspiracy of Western drug companies to promote cancer and sell cancer drugs; everyone should eat rice (yes, bread — the stuff you spread butter on). International financial capital run by “the Jews” has been controlling the Japanese economy for centuries, sucking the country dry. Some old favourites never die. (I know about this because the Israeli ambassador called it out in a tweet a while ago.)
Unfortunately, Sanseitou are not all fun and conspiracy theories. I have seen Sanseitou supporters caught on video asking people attending their meetings — whom they suspected might be of Korean descent — to pronounce a particular phrase: 十五円五十銭 (jūgo-en gojissen – “15 yen 50 sen”)
The significance of this phrase is that, in the aftermath of the Great Kantō Earthquake of 1923, it was used by vigilantes to differentiate between native Japanese speakers and non-native speakers, probably of Korean descent, as the phrase was considered difficult for a non-native speaker to pronounce correctly. Misinformation spread after the earthquake led to the belief that Korean people were poisoning the water supplies in the Kantō region, and as a result approximately four thousand “non-native speakers” were murdered by vigilantes. In essence, the Sanseitou supporter was making a genocidal threat to the person he was addressing at their street assembly.
It has taken a surprisingly long time for the right-wing disinformation and hatred machine to catch up in Japan, but it has arrived and made a splash very quickly. Even the Japanese Prime Minister is on board. At the start of her leadership campaign she spread the lie that foreign tourists were visiting the Nara Deer Park in her constituency in order to kick the Sacred Deer of Nara. In doing so, she was copying Vance’s and Trump’s attempt to demean foreigners and bring them down to the level of animals with their “immigrants are eating the pets” propaganda. Sad that she should stoop so low.
So congratulations and five stars to Satou-san as a public figure for putting out a work aimed at fake patriotism so early in the game. A little diplomatic two-facedness and some mild nihonjinron can easily be forgiven in the circumstances.
Displaying 1 of 1 review