Her tragic ending wasn’t inevitable; medical professionals had advised granting her provisional release to relieve her stress. But immigration authorities these pleas, denying her medical care.
In response, small numbers of Japanese took to the streets of Tokyo and Osaka to demonstrate against her treatment, and a petition signed by some 93,000 people demanded transparency on the conditions that led to her death. Recently clearly showed Sandamali’s physical decline and the authorities’ , even as she became unresponsive.
Punitive approaches to managing immigration are damning from a human rights standpoint. But in Japan in particular, criminalizing asylum seekers and stigmatizing immigration is also contributing to an existential crisis comprising a fast-aging population, declining fertility, and a shrinking economy.
Japan’s Asylum Problem
Since the end of World War II, when Japan shifted from being a multi-ethnic empire to a nation-state with a supposedly homogeneous population, foreigners have been subject to disciplinary regimes of persecution, deportation, and incarceration.
In the 1950s and 1960s, for example, Japanese police targeted Japan’s long-term resident Koreans, who numbered 650,000 at the time. Tokyo branded Koreans unassimilable. Ethnic Korean schools were forcibly shuttered, Korean men and women were subjected to stop-and-search practices, and the government Korean families to self-deport for North Korea. Many who left for Kim Il Sung’s DPRK were never heard from again.
Sandamali’s death, which made her the 18th foreigner to die in Japanese immigration detention since 2007, continues a historical pattern of institutionalized malign neglect toward unwanted foreigners. Tokyo’s immigration policies are now characterized by the prolonged detention of asylum seekers (over a year in many cases) and woefully low asylum acceptance rates ( in 2019).
In 2019, Japan contributed more than $125 million to the UNHCR – the U.N. agency tasked with protecting refugees – putting it among the top five donors in the world. But its checkbook humanitarianism is at odds with the reality that Japan rarely accepts asylum requests.
In 2017, requested asylum in Japan, fleeing persecution, conflict, and hunger in places such as Myanmar, Syria, and Sri Lanka. Yet Tokyo granted refugee status to only 20 applicants. The Japanese public appears largely to support a tough approach to refugees, with only 18 percent of respondents to an immigration and refugees agreeing that refugees could successfully integrate into their country.
In short, Japan is one of the world’s least friendly nations for asylum seekers. And this is despite a demographic crisis that is already impacting the country’s social and economic realities.
Japan’s Demographic Time Bomb
Japan is experiencing a crisis. With a of 48.4 years, its population is the oldest in the world. In stores across the country, now outsell baby diapers by 2.5 times.
It’s also a shrinking country, with its population of 127 million expected to by over a quarter by 2065.
These demographic shifts will have dramatic social and economic impacts. Fewer Japanese will be able and willing to work. Those who continue in the workforce will likely be older, less productive, and will hold tight to jobs that might otherwise be yielded to younger workers.
An aging population also means a larger percentage of society dependent on elder care. Specialized geriatric nursing is costly. Japan is already dependent on migrant workers to staff its agricultural, manufacturing, and caregiving sectors – jobs unappealing to young Japanese. As the need for healthcare grows, so will the demand for low and semi-skilled caregivers, medical technicians, and nurses. Inevitably, the demand for workers to fill undesirable jobs will need to be met by increasing migrant labor.
So, how long can Japan hold off providing the solution to its demographic crisis?who are capable of a range of important caregiving tasks besides basic entertainment.
Which takes us full circle. Without distinct policy level changes, Japan’s super-aging society is likely to continue its economic decline and demographic contraction. What this means for the future of the country is yet to be seen, but experts warn of a ticking time bomb counting down to .
How these demographic shifts will impact national security is also unclear, with some predicting a “,” comprising a more robust, capable military. Others note that a shrinking and aging populous will inevitably reshape security strategies; Tokyo has missed its military recruiting targets every year since 2014.
The contradictions are laid bare when, for example, Tokyo announces measures designed to attract young, low, and semi-skilled workers to theagriculture, construction, and hospitality sectors in rural Japan. At the same time, men and women like Wishma Sandamali are subject to treatment more suited to criminals than someone trying to escape an abusive relationship.
Ultimately, future policy solutions will need to encourage a shift in social attitudes toward immigration. Whether it’s international students, low skilled labor migrants, or asylum seekers, the long-term detention of foreign nationals facing deportation should not be acceptable.
On December 5, the day that would have been Sandamali’s birthday, mourners gathered at Myotsuji Temple in Aichi Prefecture to celebrate her life. Holding Sandamali’s remains, her sister Poornima , “If she were alive, today would have been a happy and enjoyable day. I’d like for something like this to never happen again.”
Migrants’ human rights must be protected, and migrant deaths in state care must not be considered business as usual. But with asylum applications likely to rise as the pandemic recedes, and no firm changes on the horizon with regard to Japanese refugee policy, there’s no guarantee that Sandamali’s will be the last death in custody.