Tokyo Weekender July 2016

When his parents were away Naruhito
would be left with nannies who were
given written instructions by Michiko on
how to take care of him. He was allowed
no more than one toy at a time and had to
be hugged at least once a day. This list of
rules was turned into a best-selling book
titled Naru-chan Kenpo (The Naruhito
Constitution) that’s still popular today.
From all accounts, Naruhito was
said to have had a happy and relatively
normal upbringing, especially when
compared to his ancestors. His father
allegedly gave him a hand-me-down uniform
to wear to school and told teachers
not to give him any special treatment.
The young prince enjoyed watching
baseball, hiking and skiing.
CLUBBING, PUB CRAWLS AND
TEA WITH THE QUEEN
In 1983, a year after graduating from Gakushuin
University, Naruhito decided to
move to the UK where he did a master’s
degree on the history of transportation
on the River Thames at Oxford University’s
Merton College. More important
than his classroom studies, however,
were the life lessons he learnt during his
two years in Britain.
For the first time, the prince had to
fend for himself and seemed to revel
in it. In his book, The Thames and I: A
Memoir of Two Years at Oxford, he wrote,
“This had been a happy time for me –
perhaps I should say the happiest time of
my life.” The autobiographical account,
whilst not exactly hard-hitting, gives
a fascinating insight into the personal
escapades of a man whose privacy is
usually closely guarded.
Much of his first week in England
was spent in the company of the royal
family, including the Queen, who impressed
him with her laid-back manner
and the fact that she poured him a cup of
tea herself. Shortly after, he moved into
a shared dormitory in Oxford where he
learnt how to iron and use the coin laundry
machine, though his first attempt at
the latter ended with him almost flooding
the room.
One of his favorite pastimes was discussing
music over a few pints. He even
went on a few pub crawls. The prince
apologizes to the British public for not
getting to grips with the rules of cricket,
but did participate in many British
sports such as tennis and rowing. It was
an exciting time for a man who, under
normal circumstances, can barely move
without asking for permission.
“I met the crown prince twice,” says
social anthropologist Joy Hendry. “On
the second occasion, I sat opposite his
personal body guard who told me how
much the prince loved being in Oxford
because he could walk about in the
streets and the local market where nobody
recognized him, which made him
feel free like any other student.”
Around the city Naruhito would
usually wear jeans, much to the surprise
of Japanese tourists. His casual attire got
him turned away from a nightclub, yet that
didn't put him off. He went to a different
club at a later date, dancing with girls until
2am. “Perhaps this was the first and last
disco I would go to in my life,” he remarked.
In October 1985 Naruhito departed
from the UK. “As the London scene gradually
disappeared from view I realized that
an important chapter in my life was over.
A new page was opening, but I felt a large
void in my heart, and as I stared out of the
window of the plane I had a lump in my
throat.”
IN PURSUIT OF A PRINCESS
Back in Japan, Naruhito’s activities were
far more constricted, and being in his
mid-twenties he was under pressure to find
a bride. He could reportedly choose one
himself, but she had to meet the approval
of a committee of palace officials. The plan
was to have him married off before reaching
30, yet despite numerous candidates
being put forward the prince remained
single at 32.
I FELT A LARGE VOID
IN MY HEART, AND AS
I STARED OUT OF THE
WINDOW OF THE PLANE
I HAD A LUMP IN MY
THROAT
His first choice was Harvard graduate
Masako Owada, whom he pursued for six
years after they met at a banquet for the
Duchess of Lugo in 1986. Coming from
a wealthy family, she ticked most of the
committee’s boxes: highly educated, multilingual
and, crucially, slightly shorter than
the prince.
One problem was the controversy surrounding
her maternal grandfather, Yutaka
Egashira. He was the former chairman
of Chisso Corporation, a chemical company
that dumped mercury-laden
industrial waste into
the bay off Minamata
in Kyushu, leading to
the onset of Minamata
Disease. Thousands
were affected by the
neurological syndrome,
which in extreme cases,
led to insanity, paralysis
and death. Though not
directly involved in the
scandal, Egashira’s association
with Chisso was seen
as potentially damaging
for the imperial family.
Despite this, Naruhito was still determined
to wed Masako. Unfortunately, she
wasn’t so keen. Twice she turned down
his proposals as it would mean giving up a
budding career as a diplomat for the constrained
life of a princess. Not one to give
in, Naruhito tried a third time and finally
got his wish.
Speaking at a press conference after
their wedding in 1993, Crown Princess
Masako said, “His Highness told me that
‘you may have many worries and anxieties
about entering the imperial house, but I
will do everything in my power to protect
you as long as I live.’”
Despite the support of her husband,
Masako has struggled with life as a royal.
Under pressure to produce a male heir,
she miscarried in 1999. Two years later
Princess Aiko was born; however, as Japan
operates under a system of agnatic
primogeniture, this did little to solve the
succession problem. It was all getting too
much for the future empress.
Speaking to journalists in 2004, Naruhito
said, “Princess Masako still faces ups and
downs in terms of her health. She’s worked
hard to adapt to the environment of the
Imperial Household for the past decade,
but from what I can see, she's completely
exhausted herself in trying to do so.”
It was announced that Masako was suffering
from adjustment disorder, a mental
condition brought on by stress, making it
difficult for her to carry out official duties.
The birth of Prince Hisahito – son of the
crown prince’s brother and third in line for
the throne – reduced some of the pressure.
Her condition is said to have improved
slightly in recent years, but public appearances
remain sporadic. Whether that
will change when she becomes empress
remains to be seen.
As for Naruhito, this is a role he has
been preparing for since childhood. His
amiable father, ably supported by wife
Michiko, is held in high regard for prioritizing
disaster victims, championing the
cause of marginalized people and attempting
to reconcile with countries affected by
Japan’s colonialism and wartime aggression.
The hope is that his son will devote
himself to the role of emperor in a similar
fashion.