Farmers and students thwart an embarrassed government
Everything was set for the long-delayed opening—five years late—of Japan's sparkling $2.4 billion New Tokyo International Airport at Narita, 40 miles northeast of the capital. The 114 shops and restaurants and nine banks in the terminal complex were polished and ready for business. The 32 airlines that would use the new facility prepared to switch 150 flights a day from older, overtaxed Haneda airport across Tokyo Bay. In a nation where tradition and superstition still count as much as technology, a taian, or auspicious day, had even been determined for the dedication last week.
Unfortunately for Narita, a butsumetsu, or really unlucky day, hit the airport last week before the ceremonies could be held. A demonstration by 8,000 radical students and farmers who have agitated against Narita ever since construction began in 1967 erupted into an orgy of destruction. The 14,000 police spread across the terminal were caught by surprise as helmeted students in steel-plated trucks battered down the terminal gates. Tossing fire bombs and swinging metal rods, demonstrators swarmed wildly through the sprawling airport complex.
The central battle took place in the administration building. There, a band of 20 radicals emerged from the storm-drain sewer and attacked the nerve center of the airport. In a running skirmish with security forces, ten of the radicals made it to the elevators leading to the control tower 16 floors above. They disembarked at the 14th floor, climbed up a huge parabolic antenna, beating it with hammers as they went, and smashed the slanted windows of the tower. Six rioters shinnied through the broken windows and proceeded to batter radar and communications consoles. Five frightened technicians who had been in the tower fled to the roof, from which they were evacuated by a police helicopter. The swift demonstration paralyzed Narita. Casualties numbered 34 police and 20 demonstrators injured, including one youth who was severely burned when a fire bomb exploded prematurely in his hand.
The most humiliating injury was suffered by Prime Minister Takeo Fukuda and his government. "I didn't sleep very well last night," admitted Fukuda after the disturbance. Irritated by the continuing demonstrations that have kept the completed airport idle since 1973—at a cost of $100,000 a day in maintenance and interest payments on construction loans —the Prime Minister had flatly declared that "Japan's prestige is at stake" and insisted that Narita would open for business in April. Now it could take months to repair the damage.