News that a lesbian couple will be allowed to "perform" a non-legally binding commitment ceremony in Tokyo Disneyland is being celebrated as a victory for the burgeoning civil partnership campaign in Japan. But in a country where apolitical fantasy dress-up is a national pastime, a fake wedding in an imported land of make-believe is hardly a victory for LGBT rights.
At Tokyo Rainbow Pride last month, I asked dozens of individuals of varying ages, political persuasions and non-straight identities about the one thing the Japanese government could do to improve their lives. "Give us civil partnership" was the resounding answer. Currently, gay couples living in Japan often resort to adopting one another as a means of full legal protection, and while the country signed a UN protocol last year promising to protect its LGBT citizens, discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation is yet to be outlawed.
Meanwhile, the campaign for civil partnership championed by Taiga Ishikawa, one of only two openly gay Japanese politicians who has been in office just a year, is embryonic. The decision to allow Koyuki Higashi and her partner Horoko to spend fanciful amounts of yen on their symbolic union is understandably significant to them. But will the commercially-blessed ceremony, played out in a culture where recreational costumery is but a socially-acceptable respite from conservative daily life, be anything more than gay cosplay?
Part of the answer lies in Disney's initial refusal to allow the ceremony. It would trouble others, the couple were told, not to see the pair dressed in a complementary morning suit and meringue; they could have the ceremony provided they dress "like a man and a woman." Tradition in Japan prevails, particularly when the overwhelming expectations on women to present as hyper-feminine means Japanese lesbians are predominantly femme, hence increasing the likelihood of the troubling two-frock spectacle.
While the Japanese love of camp gameshow hosts and drag queens favours gay male representation, Disney's concession is actually a strike of sorts for lesbian visibility, currently confined to cartoon porn and the spectacle of popular girl group AKB48 passing sweets to one another by way of their nubile teen mouths in a recent TV commercial – which, incidentally, received 116 viewers' complaints for what Japan's broadcasting ethics and programme improvement organisation described as encouraging homosexuality. But with a distinct dearth of genuine lesbian and bi women in the public eye, let alone in the entertainment world, it's hard to believe that the sight of two grown females committing to one another in an artificial arena created to indulge childhood fantasies will have any real political significance.
In fact, Disney's decision probably says less about shifting Japanese attitudes to gay partnership and more about how a western corporation's diversity duty can be commandeered by an Asian company anxious not to offend national sentiment. The Tokyo Disney Resort is actually run by a Japanese entity called The Oriental Land Company, which licenses the name and characters from the Disney corporation. Notably, international companies of Japanese origin that sponsor Pride events in the rest of the world have often refrained from doing so within Japan. Japanese morals, traditionally informed by Shinto, Buddhist and Confucian teachings, may not be burdened by a concept of homosexual sin, but public sexual display, whatever the orientation, is still generally perceived as shameful, hence the reluctance to publicly support LGBT events.
In the case of Tokyo Disneyworld, the Oriental Land Company is able to lean on the west's increasingly open tolerance towards homosexuality without necessarily affronting traditional Japanese social mores. But all cultures bring with them their own prejudices, in this case, a Christian anxiety about same-sex coupling in the house of God. Despite Tokyo Disney's green light, Koyuki and Hiroko will not be able to exchange symbolic vows in the park's chapel due to "Christian teachings".
The hope of course is that Koyuki and Hiroko's campaign can be used as an opportunity to openly discuss the need for civil partnership, in a society where workplace promotions are frequently dependent on marital status. But while the Japanese clearly seek workaday respite in the fanciest of dress-up games, a new subculture of playing wives in Disneyworld is unlikely to be a fairytale flight to equal marriage.