Elizabeth
先輩
- 22 Apr 2003
- 9,839
- 135
This is from an Trans-Pacific Radio editorial. It is in line with other condemnations of police techniques although I haven't tried to confirm each charge and fact levelled independently.
t seems that the media has uncovered more evidence of how if someone gets arrested in Japan, they could be in big trouble. This quote from the Mainichi shows that a taxi driver spent more than two years in prison for a crime he didn't commit:
The man was handed a three-year prison term in November 2002 after pleading guilty to the charges during his trial. He was released on parole in January 2005 after being jailed for two years and one month. However, police subsequently learned that another man under arrest is responsible for the rape and other attempted rape cases.
A quick note: judging by the write-up in The Economist, the Mainichi didn't get all of its facts straight. The man actually pleaded not guilty and asserted his innocence throughout the trial. He had a credible alibi, and was able to demonstrate how he couldn't possibly have committed the crime. Unfortunately, as is routinely the case in Japan, he was convicted based on the confession he was forced into signing after three days of intense interrogation.
The dots are not difficult to connect here–the authorities made a public apology when they figured out they were wrong, but have no idea where the freed "rapist" has gone. By simple logical extrapolation one quickly realizes that the cops might not have any idea where many convicted rapists (and murderers) are at the moment. Of course, it might not be that far-fetched to assume that some of those guys are innocent too, so it's probably not something to get all worked up about.
Question 1: Do police force suspects to confess in Japan?
There are a lot of percentages floating around these days. The 99.9% conviction rate and an 86.6% rate of 'full confession by the accused' are two such statistics that regularly appear in writing related to this topic. While confessions are sought by authorities in most countries when it comes to criminal cases, no other country in the industrialized world can boast confession rates anywhere near Japan's.
Confessions are important partly because they are believed to be the first step on the road to rehabilitation in the eyes of the court and society as a whole. Additionally, most prosecutors won't touch a case unless they are guaranteed to win. Confessions, voluntary or forced, are an integral part of that certainty of conviction (note: prosecutors, as in the infamous Sayama case, are often not required to disclose evidence).
There also happens to be a woeful lack of crime scene investigative skills/determination on the part of police in Japan. Confessions, from the perspective of police, prosecutors, and the court, are nice because they immediately make up for the fact that the names of witnesses were not noted, pictures and statements were not taken, and blood samples were forgotten. Whether this inattention to detail is a result of the dependence on confessions, or, conversely, the confessions are necessitated by a lack of professional astuteness on the part of the police force, is a bit like getting involved in an argument about whether the chicken or the egg came first.
Of course, as can be seen on TV, there are occasions when the police are forced to do a more comprehensive job of collecting evidence and protecting crime scenes. Look closely though, and one notices a pattern: the instances when police are seen spending extended periods of time jotting things on clipboards are usually either when something big has been broken, someone really famous or very young was involved, or the media has once again (miraculously) arrived at the same time as investigators.
In agreement with the allegations just leveled, the 1991 White Paper on Police called for:
the establishment of a 'Police With Crime Investigation Capabilities'. This would involve, amongst other things, the introduction of 'scientific knowhow' into investigative activities, the improvement of investigative skills, and the development of 'high-calibre' investigators.
This "culture of confession" that is at the heart of the Japanese justice system goes a long way in negating the value of thorough investigation, so actual progress on the recommendations made internally in 1991 has been difficult to identify.
Wouldn't it therefore make sense not to confess while being interrogated? If the police don't have much (or any) evidence, or have thrown some of it out (as is the case with the evidence from the recent murder and dismemberment involving the Muto siblings), then wouldn't it be better to just keep quiet during interrogations?
It would appear that the system has already thought of that one and moved decisively to safeguard against it. The ace up the authorities' collective sleeve is daiyo kangoku. Daiyo kangoku can be translated as 'substitute prison' in English, and in practice it is a very effective confession generator.
These substitute prisons are usually located in koban (police boxes), and they are perhaps the best display of the incredible autonomy from outside oversight, both political and operational, that is enjoyed by the police in Japan. The daiyo kangoku system was put into place in 1908 in response to a shortage of prison space. That shortage, needless to say, no longer exists.
Police, under pressure to improve crime clearance rates, continue to take advantage of the daiyo kangogu system. Police are allowed to detain suspects for up to 24 days; the suspect spends most of that time without the help of a lawyer or many of the protections that would safeguard the health and sanity of suspects in other modern countries. During the initial 72 hours of confinement a suspect can be held without charge, and access to a lawyer comes at the suspect's expense.
If three days of interrogation are not enough for the police to get what they want from the accused, they can request that the court extend the period of confinement by an additional 10 days (this request is granted 99% of the time). If those first two weeks aren't enough, then another 10 day period will be requested and granted.
24 days with only limited access to legal counsel, and few limits on interrogation techniques (despite protections legislated on behalf of detainees), is a long time to hold out! The direct access to the accused enjoyed by the police usually results in a confession whether the suspect is guilty or not.
For those already thinking it, you are correct: police in most industrialized nations don't have half the power that Japanese police are afforded. The only tangible outside check on power would have to be the prefectural and national Public Safety Committees which, as Walter A. Ames wrote in Police and Community in Japan, "…are usually filled by elderly and conservative men who almost always defer to police decisions".
Maximum pressure, such as withholding meals, physical coersion, and sleep deprivation, is applied by police and investigators to make sure that a confession is signed.
It is worth noting that the justice system enables all of this. Videotapes and recordings are not needed (indeed they're not allowed!) in the interrogation room; naturally, there are many cases where forced confessions have occurred. It is likely that a significant percentage of those forced confessions are indeed false. The fact that defense lawyers habitually warn investigators against forcing confessions from their clients is evidence both that forced confessions happen and that defense lawyers are allowed little or no participation when interrogations take place.
So, do police force suspects to confess in Japan? The answer, as in many countries, is yes. The troubling part about the situation in Japan, however, is that confessions are obtained in a surprisingly high number of cases, and that there are no guarantees that police aren't resorting to human rights abuses to get suspects to sign police-drafted confessions.
asdfs