This is more than a debate about cemeteries, it's a battle for the nation’s cultural sovereignty
A file picture of Muslim residents in Japan at Friday prayers at the Tokyo Camii (mosque). (Photo: AFP/ UCAN files)
By Cristian Martini Grimaldi
Published: February 21, 2025 04:08 AM GMT
Updated: February 21, 2025 05:14 AM GMT
Japan’s recent struggle to accommodate Muslim burial practices reveals a deeper conflict, a clash between its deeply rooted traditions and external pressures for multicultural accommodation.
While Japan is often criticized for its reluctance to adopt foreign customs, this debate must be framed within the broader context of cultural preservation versus ideological imposition.
With 99.9 percent of Japanese choosing cremation, the practice is not merely a preference but an integral part of Japan’s cultural and religious fabric. The push for Muslim burial grounds is thus not just about religious freedom but about challenging a millennia-old tradition that has been a cornerstone of Japanese society.
The recent dispute in Hiji, Oita Prefecture, where plans for a Muslim cemetery were blocked, emphasizes this tension.
When the Beppu Muslim Association sought to acquire land for burials, it was met with fierce resistance from locals. The main concern? Such a cemetery would pave the way for further cultural shifts, disrupting the fabric of their tightly knit communities.
Critics of the rejection claim that local opposition was based on “scientifically unfounded” fears of soil contamination. But was it really about soil? Or was it about defending the cultural and social order that has defined Japan for centuries?
The arrival of Mayor Abe Tetsuya in August 2024 cemented this position. Abe argued that allowing a burial ground for a specific religious group would violate the Japanese constitution’s principle of religious neutrality.
His opposition was not against Muslims, but rather against the idea that public institutions should be bent to accommodate foreign customs.
The criticism that Japan is being exclusionary overlooks an important point: Japan is not a Western-style multicultural state. Unlike nations that have struggled with mass migration and cultural fragmentation, Japan has retained a largely homogenous society, ensuring stability and social cohesion.
Should Japan be forced to change this to appease foreign demands?
Many proponents of expanded burial rights argue that Japan must adapt to its growing Muslim population, now estimated at 350,000. However, this argument assumes that Japan has an obligation to shift its own customs to align with external expectations.
Why should a relatively recent demographic change upend Japan’s centuries-old traditions?
The case for adaptation is further complicated by the fact that Japan does not force Muslims to cremate their dead — it simply does not prioritize alternative options. If burial is essential, repatriation remains a viable choice, one that has been exercised for years without issue.
Looking at European nations that have attempted to integrate Islamic customs, Japan has reason to be wary. In many cases, what began as reasonable accommodations led to deeper demands, often at the expense of native customs and societal norms.
Is Japan wise to resist this precedent?
For instance, in some European cities, opposition to religious accommodation has led to entire neighborhoods undergoing rapid demographic shifts, sometimes leaving the native population feeling alienated in their own homeland.
Japan has the opportunity to learn from these experiences and decide how much, if any, of its cultural foundation it is willing to compromise.
Beyond religious and cultural concerns, the financial aspect cannot be ignored. Land in Japan is scarce and expensive, particularly in rural areas where local governments are under pressure to develop infrastructure that benefits the majority.
Should taxpayers' money be used to support burial practices that only a fraction of the population observes?
Japan is now faced with a fundamental question: does it have the right to preserve its cultural identity in the face of external pressures, or must it conform to foreign expectations in the name of inclusivity?
The answer may define Japan’s trajectory for the next century. Will the country stand firm, maintaining its traditions and prioritizing national identity, or will it follow the West’s path, gradually eroding its own customs for the sake of appeasing external influences?
This is more than a debate about cemeteries. It is a battle for Japan’s cultural sovereignty.
*The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official editorial position of UCA News.