The Japanese criminal justice system is fundamentally results-oriented. This means that once a case enters the criminal process, the individual involved must be found guilty. As I write this, I find myself struggling to explain it, but this is the reality.
“The prosecution seeks to make a name for itself by finding a high-profile case, identifying a culprit, and crafting a narrative. Reality must conform to the narrative set by the investigative authorities.”
Perhaps the prosecutors were troubled by the inadequacies in their narrative. The reality was far too different from their script. Their plan was to arrest and detain Mr. Yamagishi, use his arrest to pressure those around him for favorable testimony, and ultimately coerce a confession from him. However, they were thwarted by a major miscalculation and Mr. Yamagishi’s resilience.
Panicked, the prosecutors pressured Mr. Yamagishi’s former subordinates into giving false statements, even banging on the table to force compliance, and they pressured the court to deny the defendant’s bail.
The prosecution is supposed to act objectively and impartially, serving the public interest and pursuing justice. However, it has been increasingly pointed out that their actions are motivated by self-interest, driven by power struggles within the organization and competition to make a name for themselves. While I hope this is only true of some individuals, the approach of being “results-oriented” appears to be ingrained.
I’ve heard prosecutors speak as if they were the judges themselves, as if they wanted to assert that they represent justice. If that’s the case, what is the point of the courts?
Evidence Concealment
What I want to emphasize most in this discussion is evidence concealment. Arrest and detention are restrictions placed on individuals suspected of destroying evidence. I was detained for 226 days on suspicion of evidence concealment, and the same happened to Mr. Yamagishi. Mr. Yamagishi’s innocence has been confirmed, and he has raised issues about the improper investigation, holding the prosecutors accountable.
All of the prosecution’s interrogations are recorded on video, including in the Pressance case, yet the prosecution has refused to submit these recordings.
Shouldn’t we call this refusal to submit records evidence concealment? Evidence concealment is typically defined as something that a defendant or suspect does. However, from my perspective, we should also consider the possibility of evidence concealment by investigative agencies. While the suspect or defendant is unilaterally detained, all kinds of records, including data, lose their freshness, lose their effectiveness, and even become untraceable. Although the prosecution seizes such items during compulsory searches at the time of arrest, the suspect cannot access the seized items.
I cannot believe that a fair trial can be conducted under these circumstances, and this is my main argument.
In my case, the prosecution argued that I might conceal evidence and pushed for my bail to be denied, but during my detention, the subscription payments stopped, and most of the data was lost. I had to lose the opportunity to partially assert my innocence along with the time spent in detention. I want to claim this as a form of evidence concealment by the prosecution. In other words, investigative agencies also have the potential for evidence concealment.
Hostage justice is not aimed at ensuring a fair trial. Instead, it hinders the accurate contest of facts and significantly undermines the fundamental function of the trial, which is to reach a swift conclusion.
I want people all over the world to pay attention to the pursuit of accountability against the prosecution in the Pressance case. The very act of the prosecution resisting and not submitting the audio-visual recordings is evidence concealment.
There is no longer any need to debate whether or not investigative agencies might engage in evidence concealment. In short, to ensure a fair trial, suspects must be granted bail. This is only natural, considering the presumption of innocence.
Why Continue Detaining?
The answer is simple: in Japan, arrest and detention are viewed as punishment. In fact, the public also perceives them as punishment. However, this is clearly wrong. Punishment should not be imposed before a verdict is given.
The public believes it is fine to arrest someone because they look like a bad person, or because they seem wealthy, or simply because they don’t like them. Detaining someone and depriving them of their freedom is seen as natural. This is because the sense of human rights in Japan is very weak. Perhaps it’s because human rights haven’t been won through revolution or other struggles but are mistakenly thought of as something granted by authority, so the idea of monitoring what those in power do does not occur, and instead, there is a tendency to revere and obey authority.
Can Mr. Yamagishi’s resilience and his new battle to hold the prosecution accountable awaken the Japanese people? I hope so, and I intend to continue following this case and broadcasting its developments worldwide.
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