A hard-liner against foreign influence and involvement in American affairs, Diaz had fought for trade restrictions and high tariffs, and against what he saw as unfair trade and investment practices by the Japanese government. He saw the fight with Japan as more than an economic battle but as a financial war, with the United States already the loser.
“Mr. Chairman?”
Diaz nodded at an attractive female member of the committee. “Yes, Congresswoman Smith, go right ahead.”
“Mr. Tsuboi,” she began, “you previously stated that the dollar should be replaced with the yen. Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?”
“Not when you consider Japanese investors finance fifty-five percent of your budget deficit,” replied Tsuboi with an airy wave of one hand. “Conversion of your currency to ours is only a matter of time.’
Congresswoman Loren Smith of Colorado couldn’t believe she was hearing such talk. Tall, striking, with cinnamon hair cut long to frame her prominent cheekbones and violet eyes, she represented a district west of the continental divide. Tight-packed with energy, she was as elegant as a lynx and daring as a tomboy. Respected for her political cunning, she carried a great degree of clout in the house.
Many powerful men in Washington had tried to win her favors on and off the House floor, but she was a private person and dated only men who had nothing to do with business and politics. She carried on a loose secret affair with a man she deeply admired, and was comfortable with the thought that they could never live together as intimate friends or as husband and wife. They both went their separate ways, meeting only when it was convenient.
“How can we become closer than we are now?” asked Loren. “The assets of Japanese branch banks in the United States far outnumber the combined assets of American banks. Over a million Americans already work for Japanese employers in this country. Your lobbyists have for all practical purposes bought our government. You own eighty billion dollars’ worth of prime U.S. real estate. What you mean, Mr. Tsuboi, is that our two nations become even closer so yours can dictate our economy and foreign policy. Am I correct? Please answer.”
Tsuboi was not used to being talked down to by a woman. The feminist movement is almost nonexistent in Japan. Women are dealt out of the business reward system. No Japanese man will take orders from a woman. His composure began to crack, and his advisers sat openmouthed.
“The President and Congress can begin with assurances that you will never close your markets to our products or investments,” Tsuboi answered evasively. “Also, you should allow us to enter your country without the inconvenience of a visa.”
“And if we don’t entertain such suggestions?”
Tsuboi shrugged and smiled venomously. “We are a creditor nation. You are a debtor, the largest in the world. If threatened, we will have no option but to use our leverage in favor of our interests.”
“In other words, America has become subservient to Japan.”
“Since the United States is in a state of decline and my nation is rising at an incredible rate, perhaps you should consider accepting our methods over yours. Your citizens should study our culture in depth. They might learn something.”
“Is that one reason why your vast operations outside of Japan are staffed by your own people and not by workers in the guest country?”
“We hire local personnel,” Tsuboi replied as if hurt.
“But not for top positions. You hire low-end managers, secretaries, and janitors. I also might add, very few women and minorities. And you’ve been very successful at excluding unions.”
Congresswoman Smith had to wait for an answer while Tsuboi conversed in Japanese with his people. They were either unknowing or uncaring that their hushed voices were being recorded and translated. A constant stream of transcriptions was laid in front of Senator Diaz within minutes.
“You must understand,” Tsuboi finally answered. “We are not prejudiced, we simply do not consider it good business practice to permit Westerners who are not versed in our methods, and who have no loyalty toward our native customs, to hold highlevel positions in our foreign facilities.”
“Not a wise course, Mr. Tsuboi,” said Loren tersely. “I think I speak for most Americans when I say we don’t care to be treated with contempt by foreign nationals in our own backyard.”
“That is unfortunate, Congresswoman Smith. Speaking for my people, I do not condone such interference as you imply. We merely wish to turn a profit without stepping on toes.”
“Yes, we’re well aware of Japanese business’s blatant selfinterest. The selling of strategic military and computer technology to the Soviet Bloc. To corporate executives like yourself, the Soviet Union, East Germany, Cuba, Iran, and Libya are merely customers.”
“International ideological and moral issues do not concern us. To put them ahead of practical matters concerning economic trade makes little sense to our way of thinking.”
“One more question,” said Loren. “Is it true you have proposed that your government buy the entire State of Hawaii so they can balance United States trade deficits with Japan?”
Tsuboi did not consult with his aides but fired right back. “Yes, I proposed that measure. Japanese people make up the majority of the population of Hawaii, and our business interests now own sixty-two percent of the real estate. I’ve also suggested that California be turned into a combined economic community shared by Japan and America. We have a vast labor pool we can export, and our capital can build hundreds of manufacturing facilities.”
“I find your concepts most distasteful,” said Loren, fighting back a rising anger. “The rape of California by the Japanese business community will never happen. Unfortunately, many of Hawaii’s residential neighborhoods are already for Japanese only, and a number of resort and golf clubs are off limits to American citizens.” Loren paused to stare Tsuboi in the eye, before continuing through tight lips. “I for one am going to fight further encroachment with every means of my office.”
A murmur of approval ran through the room. A few hands clapped as Diaz smiled and lightly tapped his gavel for quiet.
“Who is to say what lies in the future.” Tsuboi smiled patronizingly. “We do not have a secret plan to take over your government. You have lost the economic game by forfeit.”
“If we have lost, it is to corporate body snatchers backed by Kanoya Securities,” snapped Loren.
“You Americans must learn to accept the facts. If we buy America, it’s because you’re selling it.”
The few spectators allowed in the session and the numerous congressional aides shuddered at the veiled threat, hostility growing in their eyes. Tsuboi’s strange mixture of arrogance and humility, politeness and strength, gave a disturbing and frightening atmosphere to the room.
Diaz’s eyes were hard as he leaned over the desk counter toward Tsuboi. “At least there are two benefits for our side in this unhappy situation.”
For the first time Tsuboi’s expression turned puzzled. “What benefits are you speaking of, Senator?”
“One, step too far and your investments, which are mostly words on paper and computer monitors, will be erased. Two, the ugly American is no more,” Diaz said, his voice cold as an Arctic wind. “He’s been replaced by the ugly Japanese.”
25
AFTER HE LEFT Pitt at the Federal Headquarters Building, Giordino took a cab to the Department of Commerce on Constitution Avenue. Leaning on a friend, who was Assistant Secretary of Domestic and International Business, he borrowed a file on Murmoto auto import inventories. Then he taxied to Alexandria, Virginia. He stopped once to check an address in a phone book. The building he was looking for housed the distributing network of the Murmoto Motor Corporation for a five-state district. He called the number and asked the operator for directions.