(2 of 3)
Gangsterism is not new to Japan (it actually dates back to the 16th century when unemployed samurai turned to banditry, organizing into small gangs in the process). But the mob's bravado is a novelty. Until fairly recently, in fact, gangsters were obliged by a chivalric code to give to the poor and avoid harming innocent people. Like members of the Mafia, they took a blood oath that was not broken with impunity. For failing to live up to the yakuza code, an offender had to show penitence by cutting off his little finger and presenting it to his oyabun (boss)—a rite that still prevails in the Japanese underworld.
As the yakuza branched out from gambling into other rackets, the gangs grew in number and power. Today the largest, Yamaguchi-gumi,* is a veritable army of 10,000 men. Under the command of Japan's top mobster, Kazuo Taoka, 60, police say that Yamaguchi-gumi has become a criminal conglomerate that controls more than 50 corporations, ranging from restaurants and bars to trucking companies and talent agencies. The gang's take from gambling alone is estimated to be as high as $100 million a year.
Taoka, who is currently on trial for income tax evasion, extortion and labor-law violation, last week granted a rare interview to TIME Correspondent S. Chang at his sumptuous Western-style house on the fringes of Kobe, which neighbors have dubbed the "Taoka Palace." "Throughout the interview," Chang cabled, "there was a distinct element of opéra bouffe. The house compound is patrolled by a handful of crop-haired, heavy-set henchmen, who in greeting bow gawkily, like giant pandas trying to crouch. Inside, Taoka's great drawing room is deeply carpeted and adorned with many trophies presented to him from his followers as emblems of their allegiance.
"Tastefully dressed in a pale green turtleneck, matching jacket and slacks, Taoka, who is recuperating from a heart ailment, played the solicitous host to perfection. He offered his caller a delectable piece of green melon and then launched into a professorial discourse on social ills. Many of his followers, he said, were low-caste buraku-min (TIME. Jan. 8), social misfits who had suffered from discrimination. Since the government offered no help for them. Taoka had taken on the responsibility. 'What I need now,' he declared, 'is the services of some scholars in finding ways and means of securing mental and spiritual relief for my membership. So many of them were born emotionally insecure.'
"It is an affliction from which Taoka obviously does not suffer. Asked about the Yamaguchi-gumi, he replied softly: 'It's simply a shimboku dantai [friendship and mutual-assistance society]. And incidentally, the number isn't 10,000—it's 100,000.' How does he earn the money to pay for his high living? 'Why,' he answered with a smile, 'it comes from my wife's hesokuri [secret savings on her household allowance].'
"Clearly, Taoka has come a long way since that day in 1937, when, as a small-time hoodlum on the Kobe docks, he finished off a rival gang member with one downswing of his samurai sword —the first step in his rise to the position of Japan's No. 1 oyabun."