Japan’s doors are opening wider than ever, as the country grapples with its aging population and seeks fresh energy from abroad. Foreigners come here for work, study, or to join family—each with their own story.
However, another group arrives under very different circumstances: refugees escaping hardship and danger, hoping for safety and a fresh start. While Japan may seem like a safe haven, the reality is often far more complicated. For Kurdish residents in Kawaguchi City, that uncertainty has recently turned into living in fear.
Rising suspicion
Clashes between locals and Kurdish communities in Kawaguchi have been brewing for years, deepening mistrust on both sides.
A 2024 survey by Kawaguchi City underscores the rising tension. Nearly half of residents now say they feel unsafe, a sharp increase from 31.8% in 2023 to 49%. “Poor public safety” topped the list of concerns about the city.

While the survey report calls for greater mutual understanding, the reality on the ground tells a different story.
Some residents point to the Kurdish community, citing incidents like the 2023 fight that ended in a stabbing. As often happens, whether isolated or not, these events were picked up by local media, fueling fear and reinforcing long-standing narratives. What starts as individual cases quickly morphs into broad suspicion and blame.
Now, the Kurdish community in Kawaguchi is navigating an increasingly hostile and uncertain environment.
Living in limbo
Kawaguchi is home to one of Japan’s highest percentages of foreign residents—8.3% as of June 2025. Among them are around 2,000 Kurds living between Kawaguchi and neighboring Warabi City.
Originally from the region known as Kurdistan, Kurds have faced persecution and forced assimilation after World War I, when their homeland was divided among Turkey, Iraq, Iran, and Syria. Most Kurdish refugees in Japan today come from Turkey. The first waves arrived in the 1990s, thanks to a visa-waiver agreement that allowed short-term stays.
Today, Kurdish residents in Japan fall into two legal categories: those with designated activities visas—allowing them to work while asylum claims are under review—and those on provisional release (仮放免), whose applications have been denied but who are not detained. The latter live in legal limbo, unable to work, access healthcare, or fully participate in society.
Of the roughly 2,000 Kurds in Saitama, about 700 fall under provisional release. And while some residents link them to rising tensions, it could be argued that it’s the prolonged uncertainty and social exclusion they endure that truly fuels the sense of unease.
Through the media’s lens
Tensions between Kurdish residents and local Japanese in Kawaguchi escalated after the 2023 Immigration Control Act left many repeat visa applicants vulnerable to deportation.
The situation escalated on July 4, 2023, with an attempted murder involving a Kurdish and a Turkish resident. Sankei Shimbun’s coverage of this episode echoed familiar concerns about foreign residents threatening public safety.
Another report from the right-leaning Sankei questioned Kurdish refugee claims, suggesting some use asylum as a backdoor to work in Japan. That article also quoted a local who said Kurds’ rural roots and limited education make it hard for them to fit into urban Japanese society, reinforcing the outsider stereotype.
Though framed as crime reporting, these stories use rhetoric that fuels suspicion. By tying social issues directly to Kurdish identity, they help create an environment where hate speech and false accusations can spread.
Hate on the rise

Hostility toward Kurdish communities in Japan has moved beyond isolated incidents and into daily life. From hate speech to anti-Kurdish protests, the backlash has shifted from individual crimes to broad targeting of a minority.
Since 2023, rallies shouting “Kurds out of Japan” have regularly taken place near the Japan Kurdish Cultural Association in Kawaguchi. But the hate goes beyond the streets—individuals are being targeted too.
Nudem, a 36-year-old Kurdish resident in Japan since age 17, told Mainichi Shimbun that someone secretly filmed a Kurdish acquaintance’s children and posted the footage online with discriminatory captions.
In another case in November 2023, members of the Hinomaru Gaisen Club filmed Kurdish men without consent, accusing them of smoking on the street. When the men tried to stop the filming, group leader Watanabe Kenichi posted the video online, falsely claiming the Kurds had “suddenly attacked” them.
Watanabe later said he was just filming himself “patrolling” the area to warn misbehaving foreigners. But Mainichi noted he has previously made baseless claims linking the Japan Kurdish Cultural Association to terrorism. Plus, street smoking is a common sight in Japan—hardly a foreigner-specific issue.
“I’ve never seen them cause trouble,” said a Japanese man who frequents the area. “It looked like he [Watanabe] was provoking them. The Kurds didn’t hit him—they just tried to block the camera. I’d be angry too if someone suddenly filmed me like that.”
And it doesn’t stop there. Someone filmed a Kurdish girl inside a 100-yen store and falsely accused her of shoplifting online. Another video showed a children’s birthday party in a park, with captions claiming the Kurds had illegally occupied the space.
The problem escalates when public figures amplify such content. Kawai Yusuke, a city councilor in Toda, Saitama, reposted the park video himself. When not only neighbors but also the media and politicians promote these narratives, it’s no surprise that they spread—and take root—among the public.
Challenging misconceptions
Locals are increasingly pointing fingers at the Kurdish community for the area’s uneasy atmosphere. Yet the reality is more complicated.
First, the conversation around Kurds in Japan is fueling a broader, misleading narrative about refugees. It paints a picture of a country overly lenient toward asylum seekers.
The truth? Japan’s refugee recognition rate is just 2.1%. In 2023, the country only approved 303 of the over 13,000 applications it received.
Until 2022, not a single Kurdish person had ever been granted refugee status. That lone case remains the exception. Attorney Ōhashi Takeshi believes Japan’s reluctance to acknowledge Kurdish refugees reflects a calculated effort to safeguard its diplomatic ties with Turkey.
With little legal recognition or support, most Kurdish residents live in limbo. Many have spent decades in Japan; some were even born here. Yet they’re stuck in endless visa renewals.
Those rejected either end up in detention or, if fortunate, under provisional release. But that state offers no real freedom: they can’t work, access health care, travel outside their prefecture, or use public services due to the lack of a resident record. This bureaucratic dead-end, not their education level or rural origins, is what truly keeps them from integrating.

The second issue is a familiar one: the widespread belief that foreigners cause more crime. But data tells a different story. The Ministry of Justice’s White Paper on Crime shows that penal offenses have sharply declined over the past two decades, from 2.85 million in 2002 to just 570,000 in 2021. Meanwhile, the number of foreign residents has steadily climbed.
Still, a 2021 Cabinet Office poll found that 54.5% of Japanese respondents felt the country had become more dangerous over the past decade. So why the disconnect?
Simple: what changed wasn’t crime, but coverage. Today, when crimes happen, the media seizes on them. These stories dominate headlines and social media feeds, making it easy for the public to draw false conclusions and harder for nuance to break through.
Uncertain futures
Ultimately, the fear spreading in Kawaguchi points to a deeper question about Japan’s treatment of refugees. Trapped in legal limbo, facing daily uncertainty and growing hostility, many Kurdish residents find that life here offers little more security than the one they fled.
As Japan turns outward to fill labor shortages and revitalize its economy, one question remains: Are dignity and rights truly offered to all, or do barriers still stand?
Sources
川口市「治安が悪い」市民の5割が感じる 前年から2割増、20代女性は7割 市意識調査 産経新聞
総合計画のための市民意識調査結果報告書 川口市
在日クルド人のいま-埼玉県川口市・蕨市から- 一般財団法人アジア・太平洋人権情報センター
川口や蕨のクルド人 ヘイトスピーチ、盗撮被害… 募る恐怖と危機感 毎日新聞
事実はどこだ?ネットに流れる「クルド人批判」 記者が現場を歩き、投稿者に会って事情を尋ねた結果は 東京新聞
川口のクルド人はなぜ増えたか きっかけはイラン人、民主党政権で難民申請激増 産経新聞
病院でクルド人「100人」騒ぎ、救急受け入れ5時間半停止 埼玉・川口 産経新聞
在留外国人増加により日本の犯罪率は上昇するか?統計から詳しく解説 外国人整備士の採用センター
”日本で育ってきたのに、働けない” クルド人難民申請者のこどもたち NHK
「治安に関する世論調査」の概要 内閣府政府広報室
