"I Cannot Take Off My Straw Sandals: Our Family's Lifelong Journey Seeking Justice for the Wrongfully Convicted"

"I Cannot Take Off My Straw Sandals: 
Our Family's Lifelong Journey Seeking Justice for the Wrongfully Convicted".

by Michiko Furukawa

Translated from the Japanese by Joel Challender

Foreword by Sister Helen Prejean


"I have worn straw sandals for ten years to help innocent prisoners. I keep walking through towns and villages shouting out about their innocence. One day, maybe...everybody will help release them. For otherwise...I cannot take off my straw sandals."

---Tairyu Furukawa

In the spring of 1961, Tairyu Furukawa, a Buddhist prison chaplain, suddenly became concerned that two death row prisoners under his watch were likely innocent. He discussed these fears with his wife Michiko, and from that instant, both decided to put their entire efforts into preventing wrongful executions. Both fought and suffered for many years, raising their children in abject poverty battling for the two prisoners.

The case, known as the 'Fukuoka Incident', is still very well known in Japan. And the quest for justice continues even today. In May of 1947, two clothes merchants, one Japanese and one Chinese, were shot and killed. The murder was linked to the burgeoning postwar black market in clothing. Two men were arrested, tried and sentenced to death. The prosecution claims the two conspired, but neither knew the other.

Furukawa, upon hearing the two men's stories became alarmed. He quit most of his ministerial activities, and worked full time pouring over the expansive trial transcripts which amounted to thousands of pages. He sought and received help from attorneys, law professors, and witnesses.

An Amazing Journey

Michiko Furukawa grew up in a well to do family, and attended an elite college in Tokyo, quite far from her native, rural Kyushu. Married at 21, she accompanied her husband to China during the war years. Life was comfortable until May 1945, when Russia renounced the non-aggression pact with Japan. Michiko's then husband was sent to the front, and she worried constantly about his safety, and later, of being raped by Russian soldiers.

Ironically, the woman who had grown up in opulence would end up doing laundry for the Russian army to make ends meet.

She returned to Japan in June 1946, "having frantically managed to survive in former Manchuria." Her husband, like other Japanese taken p.o.w by the Russians, remained a postwar slave. Two years later he died of disease. At age 30, Michiko was a war widow with two children.

An Auspicious Encounter

War widows in Japan had little chance of future marriage. Thousands of available women, few available men. Michiko began attending religious services conducted by a charismatic Buddhist minister. They grew close and Tairyu Furukawa, much to the widow's delight, proposed marriage.

They had little money, and the honeymoon was a lecture circuit around the island of Kyushu. One stop was a leper sanatorium. When she watched him on the stage comforting the residents, "tears of gratitude welled up inside me," and, "I wholeheartedly assented that my life's mission would be to support him. "

Eight years after marriage, Tairyu discovered the two prisoners. Michiko was running a Japanese style inn, but they would shore up juvenile delinquents and paroled prisoners. Very little money was coming from guests. Tairyu even wanted to draw back from his religious activities which would further deplete finances. When Michiko heard the plight of the two men, she was unperturbed, "I will steadfastly support you from behind the scenes. We will do this together."

A Turning Point

The couple suffered through deprivation after deprivation, even having their water shut off on New Year’s Day. A turning point came with the visit of a Tokyo attorney who wanted to assist in the case. At least he appeared to be an attorney. One of the Furukawa children noticed his face on the police's "most wanted list." He was arrested at their house, and the Fukuoka case received national attention.

14 years after the Furukawas began their efforts to save the two men, joy and tragedy occurred. On June 17, 1975, one of the defendants was granted a commutation - his sentence was converted to life. The next day, the other prisoner was hanged in the detention center.

I have been familiar with this case for many years, but one fact is very elusive. The prisoner whose sentence was commuted never claimed to be innocent. He testified that he shot the two clothing merchants in self-defence. Why did the Furukawas support him so strongly, and why was his sentence commuted? To this day, I am still befuddled with this point.

The Struggle Continues

Even after the hanging, the Furukawas continued to advocate for the two men. They took their case to the international arena. Despite enduring such dire poverty, Tairyu would later meet Mother Teresa in Poland, and Pope John Paul II in the Vatican. He passed away in the year 2000.

Sister Helen Prejean even became involved. She visited Japan in 2001 to publicize the case, and I attended one of the talks. The book contains an unforgettable picture of her with "Mama Michiko."

Michiko passed away in 2010. Her life of childhood opulence, surviving postwar deprivations in China and postwar Japan, her selfless support for her husband and so many others who cried for help, is an amazing tale. It is the story of a woman with daunting intelligence, an indomitable will, a love of justice, and altruistic dedication to the human spirit.

Reviewed by Michael H. Fox
Japan Innocence and Death Penalty Information Center www.jiadep.org

NOTE: The quest for justice of the defendants in the Fukuoka case continues. The Furukawa children maintain a website: www.schweitzer-temple.com

Taliban official: Strict punishment, executions will return

Source: WTOP News (23 September 2021)

https://wtop.com/asia/2021/09/taliban-official-strict-punishment-executions-will-return/

KABUL, Afghanistan (AP) — One of the founders of the Taliban and the chief enforcer of its harsh interpretation of Islamic law when they last ruled Afghanistan said the hard-line movement will once again carry out executions and amputations of hands, though perhaps not in public.

In an interview with The Associated Press, Mullah Nooruddin Turabi dismissed outrage over the Taliban’s executions in the past, which sometimes took place in front of crowds at a stadium, and he warned the world against interfering with Afghanistan’s new rulers.

“Everyone criticized us for the punishments in the stadium, but we have never said anything about their laws and their punishments,” Turabi told The Associated Press, speaking in Kabul. “No one will tell us what our laws should be. We will follow Islam and we will make our laws on the Quran.”

Since the Taliban overran Kabul on Aug. 15 and seized control of the country, Afghans and the world have been watching to see whether they will re-create their harsh rule of the late 1990s. Turabi’s comments pointed to how the group’s leaders remain entrenched in a deeply conservative, hard-line worldview, even if they are embracing technological changes, like video and mobile phones.

Turabi, now in his early 60s, was justice minister and head of the so-called Ministry of Propagation of Virtue and Prevention of Vice — effectively, the religious police — during the Taliban’s previous rule.

At that time, the world denounced the Taliban’s punishments, which took place in Kabul’s sports stadium or on the grounds of the sprawling Eid Gah mosque, often attended by hundreds of Afghan men.

Executions of convicted murderers were usually by a single shot to the head, carried out by the victim’s family, who had the option of accepting “blood money” and allowing the culprit to live. For convicted thieves, the punishment was amputation of a hand. For those convicted of highway robbery, a hand and a foot were amputated.

Trials and convictions were rarely public and the judiciary was weighted in favor of Islamic clerics, whose knowledge of the law was limited to religious injunctions.

Turabi said that this time, judges — including women — would adjudicate cases, but the foundation of Afghanistan’s laws will be the Quran. He said the same punishments would be revived.

“Cutting off of hands is very necessary for security,” he said, saying it had a deterrent effect. He said the Cabinet was studying whether to do punishments in public and will “develop a policy.”

In recent days in Kabul, Taliban fighters have revived a punishment they commonly used in the past — public shaming of men accused of small-time theft.

On at least two occasions in the last week, Kabul men have been packed into the back of a pickup truck, their hands tied, and were paraded around to humiliate them. In one case, their faces were painted to identify them as thieves. In the other, stale bread was hung from their necks or stuffed in their mouth. It wasn’t immediately clear what their crimes were.

Wearing a white turban and a bushy, unkempt white beard, the stocky Turabi limped slightly on his artificial leg. He lost a leg and one eye during fighting with Soviet troops in the 1980s.

Under the new Taliban government, he is in charge of prisons. He is among a number of Taliban leaders, including members of the all-male interim Cabinet, who are on a United Nations sanctions list.

During the previous Taliban rule, he was one of the group’s most ferocious and uncompromising enforcers. When the Taliban took power in 1996, one of his first acts was to scream at a woman journalist, demanding she leave a room of men, and to then deal a powerful slap in the face of a man who objected.

Turabi was notorious for ripping music tapes from cars, stringing up hundreds of meters of destroyed cassettes in trees and signposts. He demanded men wear turbans in all government offices and his minions routinely beat men whose beards had been trimmed. Sports were banned, and Turabi’s legion of enforcers forced men to the mosque for prayers five times daily.

In this week’s interview with the AP, Turabi spoke to a woman journalist.

“We are changed from the past,” he said.

He said now the Taliban would allow television, mobile phones, photos and video “because this is the necessity of the people, and we are serious about it.” He suggested that the Taliban saw the media as a way to spread their message. “Now we know instead of reaching just hundreds, we can reach millions,” he said. He added that if punishments are made public, then people may be allowed to video or take photos to spread the deterrent effect.

The U.S. and its allies have been trying to use the threat of isolation — and the economic damage that would result from it — to pressure the Taliban to moderate their rule and give other factions, minorities and women a place in power.

But Turabi dismissed criticism over the previous Taliban rule, arguing that it had succeeded in bringing stability. “We had complete safety in every part of the country,” he said of the late 1990s.

Even as Kabul residents express fear over their new Taliban rulers, some acknowledge grudgingly that the capital has already become safer in just the past month. Before the Taliban takeover, bands of thieves roamed the streets, and relentless crime had driven most people off the streets after dark.

“It’s not a good thing to see these people being shamed in public, but it stops the criminals because when people see it, they think ‘I don’t want that to be me,’” said Amaan, a storeowner in the center of Kabul. He asked to be identified by just one name.

Another shopkeeper said it was a violation of human rights but that he was also happy he can open his store after dark.