Japan’s Zero Illegal Residents Plan intensifies systemic exclusion of migrants, deepening precarity under global displacement crises

Japan’s Ainu people, recognised as Indigenous only in 2008, face their own systemic exclusion, yet their critiques of state assimilation policies are absent from this debate. Indigenous knowledge systems in Oceania and the Americas, which view migration as a natural human right, starkly contrast Japan’s bureaucratic violence. The Zero Plan’s erasure of Indigenous perspectives on belonging and land mirrors colonial-era policies that sought to erase cultural ties to territory.

Japan’s deportation policies echo the 19th-century expulsion of Korean and Chinese migrants during periods of nationalist consolidation, such as the 1880s and post-WWII. The Zero Plan aligns with post-war immigration laws that prioritised ethnic homogeneity, a legacy of the 1951 Immigration Control and Refugee Recognition Act. Global precedents include the US’s 1954 Operation Wetback and Australia’s White Australia Policy, which similarly criminalised mobility to enforce racial hierarchies.

In Germany, where post-war labor migration created parallel exclusionary systems, the Turkish guest worker program’s legacy of precarity mirrors Japan’s Zero Plan. African migrant communities in Europe report similar fears of deportation despite long-term residency, highlighting a global pattern of securitising mobility. In the Gulf States, the kafala system’s exploitation of migrant workers provides a cautionary tale of how labor demand and exclusionary policies coexist.

Research from the International Labour Organization shows that restrictive immigration policies correlate with increased exploitation of undocumented workers, contradicting claims that deportations deter irregular migration. Demographic studies link Japan’s aging population to labor shortages, suggesting that exclusionary policies may exacerbate economic decline. Neuroscientific studies on trauma indicate that deportation threats among migrant communities lead to chronic stress, undermining public health outcomes.

Japanese literature, such as Kobo Abe’s *The Woman in the Dunes*, explores themes of entrapment and systemic violence, resonating with the experiences of deported migrants. In Buddhist traditions, the concept of *mujō* (impermanence) challenges the illusion of fixed national identities, offering a counter-narrative to Japan’s Zero Plan. Indigenous Australian art often depicts migration as a sacred journey, contrasting with Japan’s bureaucratic erasure of cultural ties.

Scenario modelling by the UNHCR predicts that Japan’s deportation surge will accelerate brain drain from neighboring countries, destabilising regional labor markets. Projections suggest that by 2040, Japan’s labor force will shrink by 20%, making exclusionary policies economically unsustainable. Alternative futures include Japan adopting Canada’s points-based immigration system, which balances labor needs with integration policies.

Long-term foreign residents, many of whom are married to Japanese nationals or have children in Japan, face deportation despite cultural integration, highlighting the policy’s inhumanity. Migrant workers in Japan’s care and agriculture sectors, predominantly from Southeast Asia, report systemic wage theft and lack of legal recourse, yet their voices are excluded from policy debates. The experiences of LGBTQ+ migrants, who face double discrimination, are entirely absent from this narrative.