Standards 14 December 1981

Trevor Leggett was head of the Japanese Department of the BBC.

This is one of his broadcasts to Japan

ZUBARI for 14 December 1981

Standards

 Hello listeners. We are coming up to Christmas now, and Christmas is said to be the time of peace and goodwill.  Especially, it is supposed to be an occasion for forgiveness.

In the World War I at Christmas the British and German soldiers in the front line stopped shooting at each other, and met again at the other side; they thought of them as friends. Generals on both sides quickly moved those troops away, and replaced them with soldiers who had not been in the front line.

I came across something a little similar in the memoirs of a prisoner in a British prison.  The prisoners had to clean up their own cells every morning and evening, and also every day wash the eating hall and so on. This prisoner in his memoirs remarked that they all hated the Chief Warder, because he used to humiliate them by insisting that the prison lavatories should be scrubbed perfectly clean with soap and water twice every day.  The prisoners felt he was doing this to humiliate them.

He used to stand near them while they were doing it, and if he was not satisfied that the lavatories were perfectly clean, he would make them do it again.

The prisoner said that on Christmas Day, prisoners were allowed a complete rest from work. Moreover, they had a special Christmas lunch, all together, and then a concert.  One Christmas Day, when they were all having lunch in a relaxed atmosphere, he himself left the table to go to the lavatory.  To his amazement, he saw the Chief Warder down on hands and knees, scrubbing out the lavatories.

He did not want to embarrass the Chief Warder, so he went back to the table, and waited till the end of the lunch.

But he says in his memoirs, “That completely changed my attitude to the Chief Warder, and to cleaning the lavatories.  I realized that he was not trying to humiliate us, but he was fanatical about cleanness.  Perhaps the medical officer of the prison had told him that dirty lavatories could lead to diseases, or something like that.  Afterwards I did not mind a bit doing that work, or being criticized by him.”

This same prisoner tells another story which illustrates English humour.  The prisoners asked him to lead a deputation to the Governor to complain that the cooking was very monotonous.  He was made the leader because they thought he was a good speaker.  So, the group came before the Governor, and as the leader he said,

“Sir, we are here to complain about the food.  It is very monotonous.”

“The food is very good,” said the Governor.  “The menus have been worked out by the Government dieticians to give a perfectly balanced diet, and in fact I have the same food myself.”

“But sir, your food is cooked for you individually, isn’t it? And you can have extra sauces if you like.  Perhaps the food is good in itself, but it is cooked very plainly for us.”

“It’s true that it is cooked individually for me,” admitted the Governor, “and I can have extra sauces.  Your food is cooked plainly, but it is nourishing and there is plenty of it.  Your complaint is really about the presentation of your food by the cooks.  But… if you don’t like prison food, why do you come to prison?”

The prisoners looked at each other, and exchanged wry smiles.  The leader said to the Governor, “You are right, sir,” and they went out.  They appreciated the Governor’s point, and also appreciated the humour with which he conveyed it.

Do you think this would be appreciated in Japan? I leave it to your judgement.

© Trevor Leggett