被災地負担、反対相次ぐ 復興相、首長らと会談 復興予算

2015年4月12日05時00分

 東日本大震災復興予算をめぐり、竹下亘復興相は11日、被災した岩手県市町村長らと会談した。2016年度以降は被災地側の一部負担を検討する考えを伝えたが、自治体側からは反対意見が相次いだ。復興相は近く宮城、福島両県も訪れるが、復興予算の枠組みが固まる6月までせめぎ合いが続きそうだ。

岩手県釜石市ログイン前の続きで開かれた会合には、竹下復興相や小泉進次郎復興政務官らが出席し、被災地からは野田武則・釜石市長ら13市町村の首長らが参加した。

冒頭、竹下復興相は「復興の基幹事業は引き続き国費で対応していく」とあいさつ。その後、約2時間の会談は非公開だった。終了後、野田市長は「(国から)一部地方負担を検討しなければならないという発言もあった」と明らかにした。復興予算を国が全額負担する集中復興期間を今年度で終え、16年度以降は復興予算の枠組みを見直す考えを示されたという。

岩手県幹部によると、竹下復興相は「復興に使うお金は、国民からいただいた税金ということをおさえていただかなければ」と語ったという。

被災地側は、復興予算の地元負担に反対する姿勢を示した。大槌町の大水敏弘副町長は「市町村ごとに被害と復興の度合いが違う。資材や作業員の確保が難しい事情もくんでほしい」と訴えたという。

町では市街地のかさ上げ工事が始まったばかり。会談後、大水副町長は「町は重傷を負ってリハビリ中の段階。人口1万人の町が政令指定市並みの額の大事業を進めており、国に支援してほしい」と述べた。

戸羽太・陸前高田市長も「財政や復興状況をみて議論してもらわないと困る」と話した。市は今年度、市街地かさ上げと高台造成工事に約300億円を充てる。震災前の予算の2・7倍の規模だ。「社会教育施設や市役所も建てないといけない」とも語った。

市町村が懸念するのは厳しい財政状況だ。財政力指数は、震災前の10年度でも大槌町が0・31、陸前高田市が0・27と、全国平均の0・53を下回っていた。

会談では被災地側で負担する具体的な内容について説明がなかったという。終了後、竹下復興相は報道陣に「地方負担について共通の認識はできた」と話した。岩手県の中村一郎復興局長は「被災自治体は、自分の財布が痛まないから何でも国にやってもらったらいいという思いでは決してない」と語った。

(竹山栄太郎、斎藤徹、田渕紫織)

http://digital.asahi.com/articles/DA3S11700665.html?rm=150

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Fighting to recover from the ocean’s wrath

BY

SPECIAL TO THE JAPAN TIMES

On April 11, Wataru Takeshita, the minister for reconstruction of the areas most seriously affected by the Great East Japan Earthquake, met in Kamaishi with local government representatives to discuss the budget for Iwate Prefecture. After the meeting, the mayor of Kamaishi spoke to the press and said Takeshita told them the central government would continue paying for reconstruction work through next year, but after that he expected the prefecture and municipalities to cover part of the burden themselves.

“Please understand that the money we spend on reconstruction is from taxes levied on people nationwide,” Takeshita reportedly said during the meeting, which was closed to the media.

According to an article in the Asahi Shimbun, the local governments in attendance rejected the minister’s remarks, mainly because he neglected to go into detail about how much of a burden he was talking about and what sorts of things they would be paying for. The mayor of the city of Rikuzentakata seemed offended by the government attitude.

“They must discuss our financial situation and the reconstruction process,” he told an Asahi reporter. “Otherwise, we can’t envision a future for ourselves.”

Rikuzentakata is currently spending ¥30 billion to elevate levees and prepare higher ground for new residential housing, an amount equivalent to 2.7 times its whole annual budget. “And we still have to build schools and a new city hall,” he added.

Takeshita seemed oblivious to the resistance. He told reporters that he and the local governments “came to a common understanding” regarding division of reconstruction costs. A prefectural representative tried to point out that the municipalities weren’t saying “the central government should pay for everything and we pay nothing,” only that there had been no substantive discussion about what would happen after the current reconstruction budget expired in 2016.

As the Asahi presented the story, it read like a classic instance of official condescension, but the situation is more complicated. The report implies that the local governments formed a united front, but as the vice mayor of the town of Otsuchi said, the degree of damage suffered and the amount of reconstruction required differs from one place to another. By treating all the local governments the same way, the agency effectively demonstrates a lack of imagination and coordination, while the media gives the impression that money is the only issue.

Otsuchi, in fact, is the subject of a new documentary by Haruko Konishicalled “Akahama Rock’n Roll.” Akahama is the district closest to the sea and the one that contains the town’s fishing industry. One-10th of Akahama’s residents died in the 2011 tsunami or remain missing. The central subject of the film is the surviving residents’ objections to the central government’s plan to build a 14.5-meter-high seawall along the edge of the community. The rest of the town approved the seawall, or, at least, didn’t object to it.

The budget for construction was set in January 2012, when the town’s residents were still in shock from the disaster and hadn’t had time to think over the plans carefully. Since then, the people of Akahama decided that a better idea would be to move homes in the district to higher ground. The seawall, they contend, causes more problems than it solves. The tsunami, after all, was 22 meters high, so 14.5 meters may not do any good, but in any case, the fishermen of Akahama need to have constant visual contact with the ocean, and not just for the sake of their livelihoods. One reason so many people died in the tsunami was that they didn’t see it coming, since there was already a seawall blocking their line of sight, and that one was only 6.5 meters high.

Akahama is too small to attract the interest of the mass media, but Konishi managed to enlist one powerful supporter: Akie Abe, the wife of Prime Minister Shinzo Abe. At the U.N. Disaster Prevention Conference in Sendai in March, she raised the matter of the seawall during an awards ceremony, saying that if you have to destroy the environment in order to safeguard a community from the forces of nature, then something is wrong. Since then, the movie and Akahama have been featured in a number of newspaper articles.

Konishi divides her footage between two principals: Tsutomu Abe (no relation to the prime minister), a fisherman who went back to work a few days after the tsunami, even though it killed his father, and Hiromi Kawaguchi, chairman of the Akahama Reconstruction Committee, who spearheads the local resistance to the seawall. This dual narrative approach toggles between the political aspects of the issue and the less concrete cultural ones.

Abe the fisherman represents the community’s soul, a man whose close relationship with the sea is primal. The tsunami was a tragedy, but, as he says over and over, you can’t fight nature.

“As long as our lives are connected to the ocean,” his mother says, “we have to be here.” And what’s the point of being here if you can’t see the water? When your life is dependent on the sea, you make peace with it as best you can.

People, however, are another matter, and it’s Kawaguchi’s job to fight the powers that try to tell him and those he represents what is best for them. Once the bureaucracy has a notion in its head, it’s difficult to change, and his fellow committee members, worn down by the subtle but relentless force of authority, seem willing to compromise, but Kawaguchi isn’t.

“Life comes from the sea,” he says. “And keeping the sea separate from us destroys life.”

If Konishi’s purpose is to show how a community’s desires should not be discounted even if those desires place it at risk, her movie acutely points out how specific needs can’t be summarily dismissed by logic or taken care of by charity.

“I’m not interested in people’s sympathy,” says Abe as he shucks oysters. “I just want to sell my products.”

Buchbesprechung „Rikuzentakata 2011-2014“ Naoya Hatakeyama

(書評)『陸前高田 2011―2014』 畠山直哉〈著〉

2015年7月5日05時00分

 ◇受容の意志の厳かさ、美しさ

「僕には、自分の記憶を助けるために写真を撮るという習慣がない」。かつて畠山直哉はこのように書いた。写真を撮ることは自分の住む世界をよりよく知ることと同義だった。だが東日本大震災で故郷の陸前高田の風景を喪失すると、この考えは変容を余儀なくされる。故郷にレンズを向け記憶との対話が始まる。

震災前後を収めた『気仙川』に続く本書では、町が再建されるさまがとらえられている。まずは瓦礫(がれき)が撤去されなくてはならない。機械による破壊とはまったく異なる姿を晒(さら)す何百台もの押しつぶされたクルマ。波が瓦礫を持ち上げ鉄骨に引っ掛けて去った後の体育館天井の凄(すさ)まじさ。白砂の浜に林立する松の木の根っこも人間の手が造り出せない猛々(たけだけ)しい形状だ。これら破壊された事物の姿を、彼は厳粛なまでに「津波」の目になって撮っていく。

後半を占めているのは町が再建される様子だ。嵩(かさ)上げされた土地、土を運ぶために巡らされたベルトコンベア、それが川をまたぐためのつり橋、防潮用の鉄板の列。これら人間の技術力を証する、目を引きつけてやまない造形美が、考え抜かれたアングルと色彩で抽出される。そして最後のページに来て気づくのだ。ここに写っている風景は町が完成した暁には消えてなくなるということに。しかもその町が再び津波に呑(の)み込まれないという保証は、どこにもないということに。

写真はどれも非常に美しく、そう感じていいのだろうかと戸惑う人もいるかもしれない。だが、本書は長大な自然史的時間と個人の時間が交差する地点に立たされた人間の報告なのだ。自然の力にもそれに負けまいとする人間の営みにも等価な視線を注いで歩こうとする者の。写真集に流れる美しさの本質は、その受容の意志の厳かさだ。批評ではなく問うことの大切さを伝える。巻末のエッセイが素晴らしい。

評・大竹昭子(作家)

河出書房新社・4212円/はたけやま・なおや 58年、岩手県陸前高田市生まれ。97年、木村伊兵衛写真賞

Some Tohoku disaster areas on fast track to rebuilding while others stuck in slow lane

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Es wird noch zwei Jahre dauern, bis hier – in Rikuzentakata – am Meer Geschäfte gebaut werden können  – mithilfe dieser gigantischen Transportanlage wird die Erde, die auf einem Berg abgetragen wird, auf die Ebene gefördert. Mit LKWs hätte es ca. 10 Jahre gedauert. – Aber ist dieser auf 10 – bzw auf 14 m angehäufte Grund so stabil, dass er bebaut werden kann – wie viel Zeit muss er sacken und wie häufig verdichtet werden? Auf der Ebene dürfen nur Geschäftshäuser errichtet werden – das bedeutet für die Menschen zwei Mieten – einmal für die Wohnung auf dem Berg, einmal für das Geschäft. In den temporären Einkaufszentren sind viele Händler schon über 65 Jahre – sie können sich die beiden Mieten nicht leisten, müssen aber irgendetwas weiter arbeiten – immer noch viele Probleme, die man auch mit High Tech nicht lösen kann.

BY SHUSUKE MURAI

STAFF WRITER

This is the first of a five-part series on the lingering impact of the March 2011 earthquake, tsunami and nuclear disaster on the three hardest-hit prefectures in the Tohoku region.

“Bridge of Hope” is the name of a temporary span over the Kesen River in Rikuzentakata, Iwate Prefecture.

It connects a hill where construction is underway to create a residential area on high ground and to raise a low-lying coastal zone where 4,045 dwellings were destroyed by gigantic tsunami on March 11, 2011.

The bridge is not for people. Built in front of the city’s symbolic “miracle pine tree” that survived the tsunami when the rest of its grove was swept away, the temporary bridge is a link in a 3-km-long conveyor belt system that carries 40,000 tons of soil and gravel — the equivalent of 4,000 10-ton truckloads — from the hill every day.

Four years ago, 18-meter-high tsunami hit the coastal city and killed 1,556 residents; 207 are still listed as missing.

The waves also devastated the city’s famous oyster farms and a pine forest the government had designated as one of 100 locations nationwide of special scenic beauty.

Rikuzentakata is one part of the Tohoku region aiming to fast-track its rebirth and become a safer place to live.

To that end, the city is building two seawalls 1.8 km long, one 3 meters high and the other 12.5 meters, as part of efforts to mitigate the threat of future tsunami. It is also elevating the land in the coastal zone by some 10 meters.

Thanks to the conveyor belt system built in March 2014 by general contractor Shimizu Corp. at a cost of ¥12 billion, the city can shorten the time it will take for the reconstruction work from an initially planned nine years to two.

Besides being efficient, the conveyor system offers hope to the tsunami survivors waiting to get back to a semblance of normalcy, Rikuzentakata Mayor Futoshi Toba said.

“Thanks to the eye-catching machine that symbolizes the reconstruction by operating every day, survivors can experience step-by-step progress,” he said, adding that the conveyor system, which has rarely been used for ordinary construction work, has also drawn sightseers.

Seeing the progress with their own eyes is “much more encouraging for people” than what officials can do behind closed doors, the mayor said.

Rikuzentakata’s progress represents Tohoku’s hopes — and struggles — to reconstruct life as usual.

With most of the tsunami debris disposed of by last March, except for in some no-go-zone and evacuation areas in Fukushima Prefecture where radioactive decontamination work is still underway, Tohoku has finally started full-scale building of permanent dwellings, both detached houses and condominiums, for survivors who lost their homes in the disaster.

Many survivors, however, are still in limbo as municipalities face delays in providing permanent housing units.

Iwate Prefecture had constructed 1,049 publicly funded replacement homes for survivors as of January — just 18 percent of the 5,933 units planned to be built by September 2018. The deadline was initially March 2018.

Miyagi is also experiencing construction delays.

As of January, the prefecture had built 2,692 housing units, or 17.4 percent of 15,484 units planned to be completed by March 2018.

In Fukushima, only 261 units, or 5 percent of the 4,890 units planned by March 2018, were available for nuclear disaster evacuees as of January. Also, just 1,190 replacement houses, or 44 percent of the 2,702 units planned, were constructed for tsunami and earthquake survivors in the prefecture.

The delay is due to the rising cost of labor and construction materials, Iwate Gov. Takuya Tasso said.

Meanwhile a vast number of people continue to live in temporary housing units.

In Iwate, 22,300 people were still in prefab temporary housing as of January, down a mere 13 percent from 25,619 last March.

Miyagi in January still had 35,332 people living in temporary shelters, down 16 percent from the 42,310 listed 10 months earlier.

The situation in Fukushima also remains problematic, with 24,098 people still living in temporary housing in January, even though 15 percent of 28,367 had moved away from such units as of last March.

The number of temporary shelter dwellers is surprisingly high, considering that all displaced survivors of the 1995 Great Hanshin Earthquake had moved out of similar housing five years after that disaster. The Hanshin temblor caused greater structural damage than the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake, but there were no huge tsunami.

Industries in the Tohoku region are also suffering from slumping sales and manpower shortages.

Seafood production in Tohoku remains low. According to a survey by the Fisheries Agency between November and January, just 53 percent of facilities in Iwate Prefecture were operating at 80 percent or above of their pre-disaster levels. In Miyagi and Fukushima prefectures, the number is even lower, at 50 percent and 25 percent, respectively.

Worse, the percentage of facilities at or above the 80-percent production threshold hasn’t changed much since last year’s survey, which recorded 57 percent in Iwate, 49 percent in Miyagi and 24 percent in Fukushima.

A recovery in seafood sales has also foundered, with this year’s survey showing just 58 percent of firms in Iwate reaching 80 percent or above pre-disaster levels. The figure is 40 percent in Miyagi and a mere 21 percent in Fukushima.

Iwate Gov. Tasso said the slumping sales in Tohoku fisheries is due to delays in the recovery of factories to process fish products, and radiation fears stemming from the Fukushima nuclear disaster.

Despite abundant job opportunities, the three hardest-hit prefectures are suffering a labor crunch.

Local industries, especially fish processing, construction and nursing care, are suffering from the shortage of human resources. Specialists who can take the lead in constructing infrastructure for community development are also in short supply, Tasso said.

Some Rikuzentakata residents don’t hide their anxiety about life after reconstruction.

Taxi driver Haruyuki Sato doubts people want to return to live in areas where they lost their homes to the tsunami.

“I can’t foresee how the city will turn out (after all the reconstruction ends),” he said.

Some citizens oppose the city’s planned seawalls, which will mar the traditional coastal scenery and the planned 70,000-tree pine forest to be planted on land between the embankments.

Midori Murakami of sightseeing promoter Marugoto-Rikuzentakata said that as the construction progresses, there is an emotional gap between locals who lost loved ones in the disaster and those who didn’t.

“Some people complain about creating a (raised-ground zone) on land where about 200 missing people may be buried,” she said. “But otherwise we can’t move ahead. . . . I feel both excitement and concern while the reconstruction advances.

“But local people are looking forward. . . . Thanks to the reconstruction, I get to know many new people and we work together,” she added.

Fiscal 2015, which starts next month, will mark the fifth year of Iwate’s eight-year reconstruction plan and the second year of its three-year “full-fledged” effort to rebuild housing, lives and industries for survivors. The estimated reconstruction budget will reach ¥1.1 trillion, the highest since the disasters if not counting past debris disposal, the governor said.

“When thinking about disaster victims . . . I feel it’s a mission for us survivors to reconstruct a city filled with smiles . . . (so) that even the most depressed people come here and become encouraged by finding diverse people at work and full of pride,” said Rikuzentakata Mayor Toba, who lost his wife in the disaster.

Fiscal 2015 will also be the final year of the government’s ¥25 trillion five-year reconstruction budget, which Toba said is the biggest concern for those hoping the rebuilding work won’t grind to a halt.

The administration of Prime Minister Shinzo Abe has not made an official plan on whether or how to distribute the reconstruction budget after March 2016.

Toba is worried that the apparent waning sense of crisis among the public may lead to policymakers placing less priority on reconstruction.

“If possible, I want as many people as possible to visit the reconstruction sites — not necessarily Rikuzentakata — while the damage from the great earthquake still remains. Then, I want them to revisit after five, 10 years (to see the dramatic changes after the reconstruction),” he said.

“All bereaved families have something unforgettable inside them . . . but I think even that sorrow may turn to become an unbeatable energy (to generate positive effects).”

Japan after the tsunami – 進まぬ震災復興 東京五輪が奪うヒトやカネ

Auch vier Jahre nach dem Tsunami lässt der Wiederaufbau an der Sanriku Küste auf sich warten. Die Bauvorhaben für die Olympiade 2020 in Tokyo verteuern die Baumaterialien und das Interesse der Bauunternehmer, sich in Tohoku zu engagieren ist drastisch gesunken. So müssen die Evakuierten noch einige Jahre in ihren temporären Containern ausharren.

http://www.economist.com/news/asia/21642216-rebuilding-north-eastern-region-tohoku-being-bungled-grinding

Japan after the tsunami

Grinding on

Rebuilding the north-eastern region of Tohoku is being bungled

NEARLY four years after north-eastern Japan’s huge earthquake, tsunami and nuclear meltdown on March 11th 2011, more than 170,000 people are still stuck in temporary housing along the ravaged coast. One of them is Sumiko Yoshida, a woman in her 70s who lives with her husband in cramped, mouldy quarters in Rikuzentakata, a fishing port that was washed away by the tsunami. More than 1,750 people died there, including the Yoshidas’ son, Isao, a city official who was helping others to get to higher ground. With no place to call home and no butsudan (household altar) for her son, Mrs Yoshida says she cannot properly mourn him—a photograph on a makeshift table has to do. She has suppressed her grief for so long, she says, that the tears will not come.

http://infographics.economist.com/2015/RikuzB4AFTA/RikuzA.html

Japan’s prime minister, Shinzo Abe, says that the devastated north-east is a crucial test of his plans to revive the country’s economy. Indeed, an early campaign stop for the general election last December was one of many prefabricated housing blocks crammed into school grounds in Rikuzentakata. Yet other national priorities seem to trump the region’s reconstruction. A building boom fuelled by Mr Abe’s monetary and fiscal stimulus has sucked construction capacity away from the north-east to Tokyo, where deals are more lucrative. Locals ask why the capital is building an ostentatious stadium for the Olympic games in 2020, when the poor and elderly who lost their homes in the tsunami are still not rehoused. Takuya Tasso, governor of Iwate, one of the worst-hit prefectures, says the government is losing interest in the region.

From the start, reconstruction called for money, energy and vision. In the months following the disaster locals showed great resilience, and volunteers from other parts of the country flocked to help. Some 20m tonnes of debris were quickly cleared. Hopeful planners sketched out new towns built on higher ground, powered by renewable energy. Some people even wondered whether rebuilding the north-east could pull the whole country out of its economic stagnation.

Given those early hopes, the slow progress has been hugely disappointing. Up and down the coast, much infrastructure has not been replaced and only a sixth of planned new construction of public housing has been finished. Drive through the wasteland of Rikuzentakata, and satellite-navigation screens eerily show where every house, petrol station and municipal building formerly stood. The city is only at the stage of moving earth from a nearby mountain to fill in land that sank by a metre (three feet) during the earthquake.

As for Ishinomaki, a city in Miyagi prefecture where 3,700 residents drowned in the tsunami, only 150-odd households have moved into permanent new housing, with 12,700 people still in temporary quarters. City officials in part blame the bureaucracy in Tokyo for delays in reconstruction. Ishinomaki’s mayor says it took six months for the farm ministry to allow paddy fields to be rezoned as land for a new city district.

http://infographics.economist.com/2015/RikuzAFTA2DAY/RikuzB.html

In many towns and villages, the early solidarity is now fraying as those with money build new homes. There have been disagreements between generations. Older residents are reluctant to leave coastal villages and family graves for good—many made a good living from oyster farming and fishing. Younger generations, by contrast, want to live in bigger, consolidated communities on higher ground behind the coast. Doubts that such towns will ever be built have quickened the region’s depopulation, under way even before the tsunami. The population of Iwate, the most northerly of the three prefectures that bore the brunt of the tsunami, has declined by 46,000 or nearly 3% since.

After the disaster the central government pledged ¥25 trillion ($213 billion) over five years. Yet the system bars much public money going directly to the victims. Those who lost homes can get a maximum of around ¥3m (many houses were uninsured). Many folk are in financial straits, often still paying mortgages on houses that were swept away and too poor to join communities planning to move to new towns.

Meanwhile, it is often the bosses of construction companies, rather than local officials or central government, who pick and choose what is built. When Rikuzentakata’s city government recently asked companies to bid for the construction of a new junior high school, developers said the budget was a third too low, and the project failed. A consequence is that local banks are brimming with government cash that is not being spent. In Kesennuma, a fishing port in which over 1,360 people died, the first new public-housing block for evacuees has only just opened. Construction firms are generally refusing to build such housing, says its mayor, Shigeru Sugawara. Japan’s reconstruction agency insists that project budgets are reasonable. But with labour and materials costs high, and a boom elsewhere, construction firms can cherry-pick what they take on.

In Kesennuma, for instance, they are happy to pour concrete into the first of over 70 new sea walls planned for the city of 67,000. These are walls, up to 90m wide and 15 metres high, which the central government decreed in 2011 were necessary to protect the north-eastern coastline. Up to ¥1 trillion is to be spent on them. Yet the sea walls are using up money that could be better spent elsewhere. The monstrosities are both unpopular and of little use. Even the land ministry admits that the planned walls would not have coped with the earthquake and tsunami of four years ago. Local leaders say they are moving ahead with the walls mainly because the central government insisted on them.

As for the evacuees, the real deadline for their rehousing may prove to be 2020, says Satoru Ito, who set up a non-profit organisation to help residents of Rikuzentakata after he lost his mother and home in the tsunami. For if they are still in temporary housing by the time of the Olympics, Mr Ito asks, “what will foreigners think?”

東日本大震災から間もなく4年。被災地の復興はいっこうに進んでいない。津波で家を奪われた人々はいまだに仮設住宅で先の見えない生活をしている。アベノミクスと東京五輪開催が起こした建設ラッシュは、被災地から人手や資材を奪い、一層復興を遅らせている。

 2011年3月11日に起きた東日本大震災と津波、その後の福島第一原発のメルトダウンから間もなく4年がたとうとしている。いまだに17万人以上の人々が荒れ果てたままの海辺に並ぶ仮設住宅で先の見えない生活をしている。

防災対策庁舎前で犠牲者の冥福を祈る復興工事の関係者たち(2014年9月11日、宮城県南三陸町)
画像の拡大

防災対策庁舎前で犠牲者の冥福を祈る復興工事の関係者たち(2014年9月11日、宮城県南三陸町)

そのうちの1人、70代のヨシダスミコさんは、津波に流された港町、岩手県陸前高田市の窮屈なカビ臭い仮設住宅で、夫と暮らしている。陸前高田市では1750人以上の人が亡くなった。ヨシダさんの息子イサオさんも、市職員として人々を高台に避難させていて命を落とした。

自宅と呼べる場所もなく、息子のための仏壇も持っていないヨシダさんは、息子をちゃんと弔うことができないと嘆く。間に合わせのテーブルに置かれた遺影だけがその役割を果たしている。彼女は長い間悲しみを抑えてきたので、涙はもうでないと言う。

■もうけが大きい東京の建設案件

安倍晋三首相は、東北の被災地復興は、自らが進める経済再生計画の極めて重要な試金石になると述べている。実際、安倍首相は、昨年12月の衆院選の早い段階で、陸前高田市にある学校の校庭にびっしりと並んだプレハブ住宅の1つに遊説に訪れた。

しかし今は、その他の課題が被災地復興よりも優先されているようだ。安倍首相が進める金融及び財政刺激策によって建設ブームが起こっており、東北地方に行くはずの人手や資材が東京に奪われている。東京で行われる建設案件の方がもうけが大きいからだ。

東北の人々は、こう疑問を口にする――津波で家を失った高齢者や貧しい人々がまだ新しい家に移っていない状態なのに、なぜ東京は2020年五輪のために派手な競技場を建設しようとしているのか。震災の被害が最も大きかった県の1つ、岩手県の達増拓也知事は、政府は東北への興味を失いつつあるのだと指摘する。

被災地の復興には、そもそも最初から資金とエネルギーとビジョンが必要だった。震災後の数カ月間、地元民たちは素晴らしい回復力を見せた。被災地を助けようと、各地からボランティアも集まってきた。これによって、約2000万トンのがれきがあっという間に取り除かれた。

希望に燃えた担当者たちは、再生可能エネルギーによって賄われる新しい街を高台につくる構想を描いた。東北の復興によって日本経済が景気低迷から脱出できるのではないかと考えた者すらいた。

■失われつつある連帯感

こうした最初のころの希望を考えると、復興がなかなかはかどらない現状は極めて残念だ。海岸線を見渡しても、新しくなったインフラはあまりない。計画された公営住宅の建設もわずか6分の1しか完了していない。

分別して集積されたがれき(2011年5月25日、宮城県石巻市)
画像の拡大

分別して集積されたがれき(2011年5月25日、宮城県石巻市)

陸前高田市の荒れ地をクルマで走ると、カーナビの画面には以前そこに建っていた住宅やガソリンスタンド、市庁舎が不気味に映し出される。同市は現在、地震で1メートルも沈下した地盤を埋めるために、近くの山から土を運んでいる段階だ。

一方、津波で3700人の住民が亡くなった宮城県石巻市では、新しい恒久住宅に移ったのはわずか150余世帯。いまだに1万2700人が仮設住宅で暮らしている。市当局は、復興が進まない原因の一端は国の官僚主義にあると非難する。石巻市長によると、新たに町を作るため水田だった土地を市街化区域へと区分変更するのに、農林水産省は6カ月もかかったという。

多くの町や村で、震災直後に存在した連帯感が失われつつある。お金のある人は次々と新しい家を建てているからだ。世代間の意見の相違も顕著だ。年配の人は海沿いの村や家族の墓から永久に離れたくないと思っている――彼らの多くがかきの養殖や漁業で良い暮らしをしてきた。一方、若い世代は、海岸から離れた高台の、より大きく統合された共同体で暮らしたがっている。

そのような町が果たして建設されるのかという疑念が、津波が発生する前から進んでいたこの地域の過疎化を加速している。津波被害を受けた3県の中で最も北に位置する岩手県では、震災以来、人口が4万6000人減少している。これは県の総人口の約3%に当たる

震災後、政府は5年間で25兆円に及ぶ復興予算を約束した。だが、制度的な問題のために、公的資金の多くは被災者の元に届いていない。住宅を失った人がもらえるのは最大でも300万円程度(多くの住宅が保険の補償対象外だった)。多くの人が経済的に厳しい状態にあり、津波に流された家のローンを今も払い続けている場合もある。そして、経済的余裕がないために新しい町への移転を計画するコミュニティーに加わることができない。

■建設会社は仕事をえり好み

何を建設するかを決めるのは、自治体でも政府でもなく、建設会社の社長である場合が多い。以前、陸前高田市で中学校の新校舎を建設する入札を行ったところ、業者たちは予算が3分の1低いと言い、入札は不調に終わった。こうした事態が増え、使われない政府の現金が地方の銀行にあふれかえっている。

1360人以上が犠牲になった漁港の町、宮城県気仙沼市では、避難者向けの公営住宅の第1号が完成し、入居が始まった。同市の菅原茂市長は、こうした住宅建設のほとんどの案件を、建設会社は拒否すると言う。復興庁は、公営住宅建設の予算は妥当な金額だと主張する。だが、ほかの場所で建設ラッシュが起き、労働コストや資材コストが上がっている今、建設会社は引き受ける仕事をえり好みできる。

例えば人口6万7000人の気仙沼市に70カ所以上建設することになっている巨大防潮堤は建設会社にとって人気のプロジェクトだ。これは最大で幅90メートル、高さ15メートルの壁で、政府が東北の海岸線を守るために必要だとして、2011年に建設を命じた。最大1兆円が防潮堤の建設に費やされることになっている。

防潮堤は、別のところでもっと良い使い方ができるはずの予算を食いつぶしている。この巨大建造物は住民の間で人気がないばかりかほとんど役に立たない。国土交通省ですら、この壁は4年前の地震と津波に耐えられなかっただろうと認めている。自治体のリーダーたちは、防潮堤の建築を推進しているのは、主として、政府がそれを求めているからだと語る。

避難民の住宅問題を解決する本当の期限は2020年になるかもしれない。津波で母と家を失った後、陸前高田市の住民を助ける非政府組織(NGO)を設立したイトウサトル氏はこう言う。もし、東京オリンピックのときにまだ彼らが仮設住宅に住んでいたとしたら、「外国の人たちはどう思うだろうか」とイトウ氏は問う。

(c)2015 The Economist Newspaper Limited. Feb 7th 2015 All rights reserved.

英エコノミスト誌の記事は、日経ビジネスがライセンス契約に基づき翻訳したものです。英語の原文記事はwww.economist.comで読むことができます。

Einladung zur Teilnahme: Symposium „Sanriku Fukkou“ am 5. 9. in Yoyogi, NYC und am 6.9. im Goethe Institut in Akasaka

 

 

Flyer Goethe

9月5日(代々木オリンピックセンター)9月6日(赤坂ドイツ文化会館)にて開催の「第二回三陸復興シンポジウム」にて、世界中で注目されている防潮堤問題、海と生きるふるさとの人々、海外の生徒達と被災地の小学生達と行った「海と生きる」交換ワークショップなどから得た、持続可能な災害復興と安全で豊かな未来のあり方について、国際的視点から意見を発表します。

入場無料、予約不要、発表は日本語英語ドイツ語に通訳ですので、みなさまお誘い合わせの上、ぜひご意見をお伝えにいらしてみてください。(大塚)

Please share! ‚Sanriku Reconstruction Symposium‘ held at the National Institution for Youth Education National Olympics Memorial Youth Center on 5 Sep 2014 and at The Goethe Institution in Akasaka on 6 Sep 2014 in Tokyo.

Hiroko Otsuka will talk about: ‚Live Together With The Sea – The Seawalls, Education and Intercultural Communication‘ – The role of education and ‚intercultural‘ communication in post-disaster Kesennuma, my hometown, from the view point of a teacher, a mother and an ordinary global citizen whose survived family and townspeople are being challenged by the issues of giant concrete seawalls, disaster risk and reconstruction of sustainable future.

Please come and give us your opinion, especially if you are interested in giving voices to those who often do not have, like women, children and victims of disasters?

 

Im Rahmen der 2. Deutsch-Japanischen Summer School DJSF Sanriku Fukkou findet am 5. 9. in Yoyogi, NYC, und am 6.9. im Goethe Institut in Akasaka das 2. Symposium zum Wiederaufbau an der Sanriku‬ Küste statt. Wie sieht es dreieinhalb Jahre nach der‪ großen Tsunami Katastrophe‬ aus? Am 5. September ist u.a. an Beispielen aus Kesennuma: Shibitachi und Koizumi‬ Bucht, der Schwerpunkt auf resiliente Planungen mit Perspektiven auf einen Wiederaufbau und ein Leben im Einklang mit der Natur gelegt. Wichtig ist, wieder Kraft und Identität zu erlangen. Hier spielen überlieferte Traditionen, Shintoriten, Matsuri, Tänze, Volkskunde und überlieferte Kenntnisse vom Leben mit Wald, Meer und Küste in Einklang mit der Natur.

Gerade die Koizumi Bucht ist international in den Medien bekannt geworden, da hier eine 90 m breite und 14,7 m hohe Betonmauer errichtet werden soll, die den nach dem Tsunami übrig gebliebenen gesamten Sandstrand bedecken wird.

Am 6.9. beschäftigen wir uns mit der aktuellen Politik in Japan, das Verhältnis zu China und Deutschland, und ob es ein Umdenken in der japanischen Gesellschaft in Bezug auf zukünftige Energiepolitik gegeben hat, sowie den Strukturen in Politik und Bauindustrie.

Bitte besuchen Sie das Symposium in Yoyogi, NYC und im Goethe Institut, Akasaka

Anfahrtsbeschreibung:

National Institution for Youth Education National Olympics Memorial Youth Center (NYC)
3-1. Yoyogi Kamizono-cho, Shibuya-ku, Tokyo 151-0052 JAPAN
TEL.+81-3-3467-7201(General number)

Goethe Institut, Tokyo

Adresse: 7 Chome-5-56 Akasaka, Minato, Tokyo, Japan

Telefon:+81 3-3584-3201

Link

Japans Sanriku Küste in Tohoku soll hinter 14,7 m hohen Betonwällen verschwinden

Tsunami-proof ‚Great Wall of Japan‘ divides villagers

Government wants to build 440 walls along coastline, but some residents believe a concrete fortress is not the answer