CAPÍTULO IV. PROBLEMAS EN LA PLANIFICACIÓN DEL SERVICIO DE TRANSPORTE URBANO
4.4 Problemas estructurales y laborales de las empresas de transporte urbano
’m a firm believer in going right to the source (or right to the source’s heavily protected red-data-store, as the case may be <grin>) when you want to know something. Initially, I had a little trou-ble actually digging up anyone who was really in with the Sons of the Neon Chrysanthemum and willing to talk about the Yakuza. But eventually I got hold of a chummer down SanFran way who goes by the handle “Kanji.” Kanji’s one of a new breed of young Japanese-Californians born in the Free State and working to make it truly free. They want to see the occupation of SF end and free elections held, but they also want to stay in the CFS—simply because SanFran is their home.
Gotta give them a lot of credit. I’m not sure that I’d want to work with rebel groups that distrust my entire race/culture and want to deport the whole lot of us.
Anyway, enough of my rambling. Take it away, Kanji.
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Captain ChaosTransmitted: 24 January 2058 at 13:04:19 (EST)
I
THE YAKUZA
Before I joined the underground, I had the dubious pleasure of working as an icebreaker for the Karatsa-gumi—so I have first-hand experience of the Yakuza. As a favor to Captain Chaos—and in the hope that doing so will demystify the Yakuza and help those within its ranks who desire reform—I’d like to share the benefit of that experience.
The Yakuza is an organization built on ancient traditions.
Though the interpretation of these traditions has changed over the years, these “old ways” continue to sustain the Yakuza and distin-guish it from all other organized criminal groups. Some of these customs—such as honor, loyalty and protecting the populace—
are admirable traditions that strengthen the organization.
However, other traditions—such as distrust and prejudice against foreigners, metahumans, women and magic—have severely hin-dered the Yakuza in the Sixth World.
These factors have led to a conflict that racks the modern Yakuza. On one side are the traditionalists, who fiercely cling to the old ways and view as heresy any talk of changing or aban-doning those traditions. On the other side are the reformers, who want to strengthen or resurrect the Yakuza’s traditions of honor and service to the community while cultivating a more modern, open attitude toward women, metahumans and magic. The final outcome of this struggle seems far from certain. But undoubtedly the process of change in the Yakuza will not be easy—or bloodless.
To truly understand the sources of this conflict and the mod-ern Yakuza itself, outsiders must first discard their preconceptions about the organization. Even today, most people think of the Yakuza as a “Japanese Mafia”; they view the oyabun and their men as gangsters with katanas instead of Tommy guns. These views, sad to say, are based on movies and manga-vid fantasies—not real life. The Mafia and the real Yakuza do exhibit some similari-ties, but the differences between the two groups vastly outweigh those similarities.
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Hold it! The intro to this document said the similarities between the Mob and the Yakuza vastly outweigh the differences. Now this skag says the differences vastly outweigh the similarities. Which is it?>
Low Ranger>
It’s a matter of style vs. substance, Ranger. The syndicates are into the same kinds of biz, and they run that biz in pretty much the same way. Only makes sense, right? You don’t see Aztechnology and Yamatetsu using different accounting practices. A corp is a corp and a mob is a mob. That’s substance.In style, the syndicates are all very different. To stick with the corp analogy, the corporate cultures at Aztechnology and Yamatetsu are vastly different. Both are in roughly the same business, but their employees go about their business in very different ways.
So in terms of substance—business practices—the similarities outweigh the differences. But in terms of style—the “corporate”
culture—the differences outweigh the similarities. Got it?
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CC Raider“Never met a corp I didn’t hate”
HISTORY
The Yakuza’s about twice as old as the Mafia. It dates back to seventeenth-century Japan, where groups of bakuto, or gamblers (who were considered among the lowest criminals in Japanese society), first began to band together. In fact, the name Yakuza reputedly comes from the worst hand in the card game hanafu-da—8-9-3 or ya-ku-za in Japanese. The expression came to mean something worthless, and people attached it to a whole class of criminals, who adopted it like a badge of honor.
By the late eighteenth century, the Yakuza had become one of the most powerful organizations in Japan, its members respect-ed and fearrespect-ed by the entire populace. Japanese commoners espe-cially held the Yakuza in high regard because the early Yakuza viewed themselves as “protectors of the populace”—almost like a supplemental police force. That self-appointed role was an inte-gral part of the Yakuza code, and it earned the Yakuza a reputa-tion for honor that survives today.
Now, some traditionalists claim that the yaks were simply honorable, stand-up guys. Personally, I don’t buy it. Profitable crime was their main business—as it is today—and I think they simply figured that the best way to protect their business was to stamp out all “freelance” crime—crime that they didn’t directly run or approve. So they came down hard on random street crime and common theft. Coming down hard on common “dishonor-able” criminals probably also helped the early yaks create an image of themselves as men of honor. And most important, it cre-ated good will among the population, so that when the authori-ties came looking for the Yakuza the local folks wouldn’t turn them in.
Whatever the reasons behind it, the Yakuza code—in the old days, at least—preached respect for the common citizen. And that respect manifested in the doctrine of “choice,” as opposed to coercion. A victim of Yakuza criminal activities had to choose to be victimized; he had to embrace it of his own free will, with his eyes wide open. For example, a patron visiting a yak-run brothel chooses to go there—no one is coercing him. A user who buys drugs from a yak distribution ring is choosing to feed his addic-tion, no one is forcing him to do so (by Yakuza standards, any-way). But a sarariman getting mugged in an alley doesn’t have much say in the matter. That’s why mugging, pickpocketing and other violent crimes were anathema to the yaks of old. Some Yakuza still try to practice this part of the code by policing their areas of influence, but most have abandoned this lofty principle and simply take a cut of the street crime in their districts.
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You could argue that the historically low “street” crime rates in Japan—all the way up to the end of the twentieth century, as a matter of fact—were a result of Yakuza policy. Even in the 1980s and 1990s, any common thug who decided to take to the streets of Tokyo as a mugger would eventually find himself trying to explain to a yak assassin why he was more valuable alive than with a slit throat.>
KerumiThe early Yakuza also provided a “justice for hire” service to the populace. If someone believed he’d been wronged by
anoth-er, he could take his case to the local oyabun (head of the local Yakuza family) and ask for help. If the oyabun decided that the case had merit, he’d send his soldiers out to “exact justice” from the wrongdoer. (The nature of that justice depended on the wrong committed, of course.) In exchange, the Yakuza would charge the wronged party a fee based on his ability to pay—often a percent-age of any penalty “recovered” from the wrongdoer.
Even the local samurai class, the daimyo, weren’t beyond the reach of the Yakuza, and so the organization became the only recourse for peasants who felt their liege lords were treating them unfairly. But sometimes the landed classes would use the yaks to exact “justice” from those who’d used them unfairly, too.
This practice is one of the reasons why even today, sympathy for the Yakuza in Japanese society extends even to the authorities, who often decline to investigate Yakuza-related criminal activities or prosecute its members.
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True, but only as long as the yaks don’t break the unwritten rules:no murder—unless the circumstances make it the only “appropri-ate” action—and absolutely no killing of civilians.
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YokoshiEven in North America, some Yakuza still perform this kind of justice-for-hire service. Of course, tracking down your local oyabun is a lot more difficult than it used to be. The fees for such
“services” are generally much higher, too, and the concept of
“ability to pay” no longer carries as much weight as in the past.
However, a few Yakuza are attempting to restore the justice-for-hire practice in its true spirit. In Newark, for example, the Honjowara-gumi—under the guidance of the great reformer Okido Honjowara and his “New Way”—has adopted Sector 6 as its prefec-ture and protects the people of that area against random violence and against “outsiders” seeking to commit criminal acts.
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Sector 6? Oh yeah, I know that hood—Little Asia, around Bergen Street. Kanji’s right. That’s the safest hood in the whole ’plex.>
Marley’s Ghost>
Yeah, well, in Newark that ain’t saying much.>
Shadowhunter>
I’ve been to Newark, and I’ve been to Little Asia. I’ll tell you, I did-n’t feel safe—not one fragging bit. Spotted the yak “peace-keep-ers” the minute I stepped off the underground. They watched me like hawks, just waiting for an excuse to cut me down like a rat.Why? Because I’m gaijin, and because I’m troll, that’s why.
The Honjowara-gumi keep the Sector 6 hood safe, alright—for their people. But if you’re not a Japanese human, all this justice-for-hire Robin Hood drek don’t apply to you. In fact, your local yaks are likely to consider you a threat to the peace.
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Rug>
I think chummer Rug might be taking that a bit far. But I don’t think for a moment that any yak group—in Newark or anywhere else—keeps the peace out of the goodness of its collective heart.It’s got some hidden agenda it’s pursuing. Count on it.
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If some gumi wants to come and keep the peace in my hood, I can live with whatever hidden agenda it’s got.>
VevAs Japan began to industrialize during the Meiji Restoration of the nineteenth century, the Yakuza also began to modernize to keep pace with the changes in Japanese society. The organization began to infiltrate the construction business, the docks—it even took control of the rickshaw business. But most important, the Yakuza began to dabble in politics, lending support to certain politicians and officials. By cooperating with the government, Yakuza members gained some freedom from harassment and even official sanction in some instances. In fact, this trend contin-ues today, as illustrated by Yakuza strength in cities such as San Francisco, which are under the control of the Japanese govern-ment or the influence of Japanese corporations.
After World War II, another wave of reform swept through the Yakuza, giving the organization its modern form. Guns replaced swords as the weapons of choice, and Yakuza members abandoned much of the ancient Yakuza code. The Yakuza began targeting ordinary citizens for shakedowns and protection rackets, not just other criminals or specific groups. And the organization recruited aggressively and expanded its operations.
The Yakuza made a concerted effort to expand and establish operations outside the Japanese homelands, especially along the Pacific Rim and in North America. Soon, the Yakuza had gained con-trol of the very profitable drug trade in Japan and the PacRim, estab-lished new smuggling operations, and expanded its existing vice operations and rackets. The presence of gumi outside of Japan become more and more common, and eventually the Yakuza began recruiting non-Japanese members in Asian countries such as Korea.
By tying its fortunes to Japanese corporations that were expanding their own global operations, the Yakuza spread throughout the world. Where the sararimen went, the Yakuza went—and inevitably clashed with established local criminal orga-nizations such as the Mafia.
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In some areas, the Yakuza are still confined to the “little Tokyo”sections of town—Japanese enclaves where corporate employ-ees and dependents live. But in places like Seattle, where Japanese citizens form a significant portion of the population, the Yakuza operates openly and on a par with—or even ahead of—
homegrown mobsters like the Mafia.
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[email protected]Yakuza operations in North America continued to grow at a steady pace throughout the early part of the twenty-first century.
The greatest coup for the Yakuza in America came in 2036, when Japanese troops occupied San Francisco in a “friendly invasion”
strongly backed by Yakuza gumi in Japan as well as those gumi already operating along the Pacific Rim.
The occupation gave the Yakuza a secure base of operations in North America, a place where they were generally unchal-lenged and could operate much as they did in Japan. Since the occupation, San Francisco has become known as the unofficial Yakuza “capital” of North America.
A gumi’s territory is called a nawabari—literally, a “roped-off area.” The power and influence of a gumi and its oyabun deter-mine how large the gumi’s territory is. A powerful gumi can con-trol an entire city or even a state or small country.
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I read somewhere that Tokyo used to be split among three gumi, while Osaka was run by only one syndicate, as was the entire island of Shikoku.>
PiscatorA rengo is a loose alliance of different gumi that have chosen to work together for their own purposes. Usually, rengo members are less-powerful gumi—most gumi prefer to go it alone if their influence is strong enough. But even within a rengo, the oyabun of the member gumi retain control of their own gumi.
The Yakuza has no ruling council like the Mafia’s Commissione—no oyabun-no-oyabun like the Mafia’s capo di tutti capi. Individual gumi may form rengo or power blocs led by a sin-gle, powerful gumi and its oyabun—but a Yakuza member’s loy-alty extends within his own gumi and oyabun only. A kobun is loyal to his oyabun, and that oyabun is a law unto himself. If that kobun wants to ally himself with another, larger gumi, he can—
that’s the way of the world. But he can break that alliance at any time and even go into competition with his one-time ally.
This structure has led to a great variety among gumi. Some oyabun and their gumi are very traditional and follow the old ways to the letter. Others are more willing to bend or break the rules to turn a profit. And still others are proponents of the “New Way,” a