Suffering and desire in Psychoanalysis and its training: Asia-Pacific as geographically marginal (1)
Naoe Okamura
Training Institute of Japan Psychoanalytic Society
(1) This presentation was originally presented at the Asia Pacific Conference Sydney, as one of the panel presentations in “ Suffering and Desire in Psychoanalysis and its Training: Asia-Pacific as Geographically Marginal” on May 2, 2024.
Recently, I presented a case to a renowned training analyst in Europe. He asked me, 'Do you ever find that Japanese patients are different? Your case today sounded just like what we hear in our country.' This comment is directly related to today's topic. Listening to him, as a candidate who provided the case material for group discussion, I initially felt relieved. It meant that my presentation was evaluated as psychoanalytic. But then, various complex ideas arose. There must be many distinctions in culture and customs that are clearly different. Does this not influence the unconscious? Or how psychoanalysis is experienced by my patient? What about my own relationship with psychoanalysis? Could these differences be reduced to individual variations? I could not initiate a discussion and just smiled ambiguously, just like many Japanese might.
The keynote speech at the IPA Congress in Cartagena 2023 by Jorge Bruce "Untimely Observations" resonates particularly with those far from the centers of psychoanalysis. In his paper, he described the issue as follows: “Essentially, we work most of our hours as if we lived in London, Paris or San Francisco. We write and publish works with the same imprint. We interpret along the same lines.” Bruce situates himself within the historical present of Latin America. It is the present centuries after the colonial settlers, whose established power structures manifest in contemporary society as racism and classism. He advocates a psychoanalysis that confronts and assimilates these realities. In this historical present, addressing such issues encourages us to re-examine the often unrecognized contexts within regional cultures and to consider them from different perspectives.
Though the histories of Latin America (referred to by Octavio Paz as the Far West) and our Far East differ, with distinct histories and geographies, they seem to share similar challenges in relation to psychoanalysis. This is how I started organizing this panel in which I wish to start exploring the relationship between psychoanalysis and regional historical present. It involves considering the axis of centrality and marginality, as well as thinking the power relations in the development of psychoanalysis.
The small Japanese archipelago, located at the eastern end of the Eurasian continent, has long benefited from China's advanced culture and civilization. Hamashita's diagram in 'East Asia and the Global Economy: Regional and Historical Perspectives' illustrates this Sinocentric worldview, with Japan positioned second from the outer circle as a tribute-paying country (Figure 1). For over a millennium, Japan existed on the periphery of this Sinocentric world system, with advanced ideas and technologies flowing from China. However, this geopolitical relationship was not invasive; Japan was granted sufficient autonomy for its own development. The Japanese adapted imported ideas and technologies in unique ways, rarely using domestic resources or power for foreign adversaries. In this sense, Japan could be seen as a 'happy infant' in its relationship with the distant, advanced cultural centers. In other words, Japan had Sinocentrism from a position on the periphery. In the mid-19th century, after Japan was forced to open its doors after a long period of national seclusion, it absorbed a variety of things from the West, an advanced civilization and technology, at the risk of its own survival. As you can see, Japan turned its gaze from the cities of China to those of the West. In other words, the structure of Chinese thought remained the same, but the content was replaced. As Kan Sang-jung, Japanese-born South Korean political scientist, writer and public commentator argues, Japan then partly identified with Western imperialism, adopting the West's Orientalist view of Asia as inferior. This paradoxical identity has characterized Japan both as a nation and as a people, and I believe it also relates to psychoanalysis in Japan.
Let's explore the history of Japan's script 'kana', as an example and as a metaphor. Originally, Japan had no writing system until the 5th century when Chinese script was introduced. Japanese scholars began to adapt these scripts to fit the Japanese language phonetically. They employed Chinese pronunciations that resembled Japanese syllables, rather than their semantic meanings. By the 9th century, these adaptations were simplified into kana, syllabaries now integral to the Japanese writing system (Figure 2). Interestingly, kana (仮名) literally means 'false name', generated by collapsing kanji (漢字), which literally means 'Chinese Script'. Kanji was also called mana (真名), literally meaning 'true name'. The fact that we continued to call our own script 'false' while regarding Chinese characters as 'true' is an interesting aspect. I see this as reflecting an unconscious aspect of following behind in Japanese self-perception.
This stands in contrast to the Korean script, Hangul, which is a cultural icon in South Korea. According to the book 'The Korean Language' by Lee and Ramsey, 9th of October is celebrated as "Alphabet Day," and King Sejong, the inventor of this alphabet, is honored in countless ways. That this writing system is completely and uniquely Korean is enough to swell the pride of the nation.
Let me return to the Japanese original script, kana. I previously mentioned that we named our original script 'false', implying that we broke and simplified the true Chinese script in our own way. However, my intention is not self-deprecation. Around the year 1000, this 'false' script, also referred to as 'woman's hand,' was predominantly used by women in the court. These women made significant contributions to Japanese literature through poetry, diaries, and novels. According to Arntzen and Childs, specialists in Japanese literature in North America, this phonetic writing script was a development of the vernacular written language, which allowed their life-writing as a way to regain a sense of control over their lives after suffering. The 'false' script came to carve a world that dealt with pain, emotion, and emptiness as the voice of women at that time.
Now, how could it relate to psychoanalysis?
Psychoanalysis was introduced from the West in the 20th century, a region far distant from Japan. At that time, all advanced, sophisticated, and powerful things resided in Europe or North America, where is now the new center of our Sinocentric world. Psychoanalysis in Japan has been significantly influenced by individuals who studied and translated core psychoanalytic texts, and who stayed psychoanalytic centers such as Topeka, London, and New York, absorbing and then importing this knowledge back to Japan. Yet, it was only about 30 years ago that a clear distinction began to be drawn between psychoanalysis and weekly psychotherapy. This represents a stage where Japanese practitioners are striving to handle cases as if they were in these 'centers' of psychoanalysis, aiming to adhere to the standards of practice expected there. However, this approach raises concerns: could this pattern of identifying with distant, idealized 'centers' be seen as an appeal to legitimacy that may become arrogance? Standing within my culture, I think it might be so. This arrogance could pose a challenge in our culture, which traditionally values harmony and intuiting silence over direct confrontation. Our inherent tendencies might create a unique balance between interpretation and verbalization. Furthermore, within institutional conflicts, those advocating for authenticity seem to assert their legitimacy based on their connection with these 'centers.'
In Japan, we have a small society; currently, 24 candidates are under training. We are indeed in a culture that has just begun to practice psychoanalysis. Currently, we may be in a phase of mimicking the 'centers' of psychoanalysis, perhaps with a certain kind of unavoidable arrogance. It's inevitably related to practicing psychoanalysis 'properly.' However, it would be essential to embrace the confusion and discomfort within. That would allow us to approach the patients in a less arbitrary way.
Vignette
A lady in her 40’s underwent weekly psychotherapy. She was in a symbiotic and controlling relationship with her deceased mother. While outwardly submissive and respectful, she felt her existence was negated by her mother. She harbored resentment and indignation, repeatedly forming somatic symptoms. I began to feel that her harboring resentment towards her mother was a strong bond in her fantasy. She felt that she was being used like a tool by her large family and relatives to maintain harmony, describing this sensation as "the bottom stone of the pyramid." Over the span of years, there emerged a part of her that awaited someone reaching out to her, yet it also accompanied a deeper resentment within her. When this reversal was conveyed, it was experienced as a strong denial of her, a significant aspect of her experience.
One day she came in, was silent for a bit, then talked that she watched the TV program of Japan Self-Defense Forces (JSDF). Watching the harsh training, she recalled her childhood. She said that she thought about how the people involved in that unreasonable training of their own will. She mentioned that some people used the word “mission with responsibility". "I understand that well. When you belong to an organization, it's quite hard to leave." She kept silent. I told her “You are talking about two aspects in belonging to the organization. bound and protected.” She nodded at my intervention, adding that it was the "You know, it is for self-defense."
We remained silent for several minutes. There was something relaxed in her. I then remembered, she had spoken just once, years ago, about her family. Her mother belonged to a generation affected by the WWII. They originally lived in a high-class residential area with Western-style houses, but her father, being in a high position as an educator during the war, was purged from public service by the occupying forces. Afterwards, the family lived a life hidden from the public eye, as society suddenly turned its back on them. The patient's mother took up a job in the same educational field as her father. I also remembered that her first trip to Europe was to see the memorial and museum of the former Nazi concentration camp.
She started talking about the history of the JSDF. She talked about the conflict at the time of the Iraq War, when Self-Defense Force sent somewhere close combat zones, that never happened after the end of WWII. It could conflict with Article 9 of the Japanese Constitution, outlawing war to settle international disputes involving the state. She said JSDF ended up carrying weapons with the premise that they must never use them. Despite debates over years of their existence, she noted that now they are recognized as the nation's most significant relief operation, quickly coming to help during earthquakes and disasters, and are seen as a reliable entity by the citizens. Then she fell silent again.
The JSDF she speaks of represent the fantasies she has about her mother and family. They might be what Rosenfeld referred to as the "powerful gang" of destructive narcissism. A powerful gang bond must have existed between us too. At the same time, she was justifying carrying a weapon, which she would never use, as if she were entitled to continue harboring anger here without ever letting it out, relying deeply on it for her aggression. However, considering her family's history, the sense of security provided by the JSDF seemed temporary. Her family has been betrayed while the facade and reality flipped back and forth. I said, "There is history. In the state, in your family. Your mother’s father had it hard.” After a few more minutes of silence, she told us that she had a nightmare in which she called out to her mother but was never heard. This was an important dream which we would talk and come back to many times.
The case reveals a complex history that has been building up over time. She touched on an important antinomy of this country which also directly involved her ancestors and shaped her psychic world inherited from her mother. I withheld the interpretation came up to my mind. By withholding, I allowed the multi-layered history that emerged in the room, without representation, to elicit responses from her. It goes without saying that the history of the individual is woven into the history of society in countless ways, and vice versa. To live one's life in one's own way means to be newly involved with the history of the land and the flow of time.
References
Britannica, The Editors of Encyclopaedia. "kana". Encyclopedia Britannica, 13 Mar. 2024, https://www.britannica.com/topic/kana. Accessed 16 April 2024.
Bruce, J. (2023) Untimely Observations. Int. J. Psychoanal., (104)(3):556-564
Hamashita, T. (2008) China, East Asia and the Global Economy:Regional and Historical Perspectives. Routledge.
Kang, SJ. (1996) Orientarizumu no kanata e: Kindai bunka hihanIwanami Shoten. Tokyo.
Lee, Iksop; Ramsey, Samuel Robert (2000). The Korean Language. SUNY Press
Rosenfeld, H. (1971) International Journal of Psycho-Analysis,52:169-178