Japanese Modernity from the Siberian Silo

The idea that there are pairs of countries whose identities and geopolitical standings have emerged in dialogue with one another is an appealing one. Be it England and France, Brazil and Argentina, Egypt and Saudi Arabia, or numerous other examples including Russia and China (covered in my own work), various dyads of counterpart, rival, or partner nations appear to have had outsized influence on one another’s sense of place in the world, and only sometimes because of footballing grudges. Among such examples, Russia and Japan seem a decidedly odd couple in the international arena. Anthropologists or social historians would struggle to identify two more different places at the level of culture, politics, or society: aside from having unrelated linguistic and religious traditions, one state promotes a self-image based on continental vastness—a trait the current Russian president has doubled down on by invading Ukraine— while the other, at least today, is identified with the insular particularism of the “island nation” (shimaguni). At a more granular level, each society also approaches institutionalization and formality very differently, something illustrated by the tumultuous recent history of the Sakhalin–Hokkaido passenger ferry, suspended since 2018 amid repeated clashes between incompatible bureaucracies.