[Big read] Can China’s new migrants find a home in Takaichi’s Japan?

(Edited and refined by Josephine Hong, with the assistance of AI translation.)

The tightening of immigration restrictions by the Trump administration has made Japan — geographically close to China and with relatively smaller cultural barriers — a transit point or a final destination for many Chinese nationals seeking to fulfil their “migration dream”.

Official data show that as of last year, the total number of foreign residents in Japan had reached 3.95 million, with Chinese nationals surpassing 900,000 for the first time. According to the book The Era of One Million Overseas Chinese in Japan (ニッポン華僑100万人時代) written by Nikkei journalists, ethnic Chinese residents are registered in 1,603 out of Japan’s 1,741 municipalities. Nearly all 23 wards of Tokyo are home to ethnic Chinese communities, with Toshima and Shinjuku serving as major hubs, hosting some 240,000 ethnic Chinese residents.

The sharp rise in the ethnic Chinese population is closely linked to Japan’s 2018 revision of the Immigration Control and Refugee Recognition Act, which introduced the “Business Manager Visa” (formerly known as the Business Management Visa). The administration of the late former prime minister Shinzo Abe launched this visa to attract foreign capital. Applicants need only establish a company in Japan with a registered capital of 5 million yen (US$35,000) to qualify for long-term residency. After the Covid-19 pandemic, the significant depreciation of the yen made this visa one of the rare low-threshold, cost-effective investment migration programmes in the world. The capital requirement has been increased to 30 million yen in October 2025.

In recent years, newly arrived migrants from China have demonstrated strong purchasing power and a clear preference for settling in Tokyo’s upscale residential neighbourhoods and elite school districts, such as Bunkyo and Minato. In Bunkyo, for example, a public elementary school located near the University of Tokyo enrolled 467 foreign students last year — 2.4 times the number five years earlier — with a majority of which are Chinese.

A real estate agent in Bunkyo explained, “Chinese parents who migrate with their children all hope that one day they will enter a top university. Hence, these parents are willing to spend heavily on property.”

However, the influx has also brought challenges. Teachers in Bunkyo report significant pressure in communicating with Chinese parents who do not speak Japanese. To better support Chinese children with limited language proficiency, schools have provided translation devices and hired Japanese-language teaching assistants. Yet as enrollment continues to grow, school finances and staffing resources are reaching their limits.

The desire to live near prestigious schools is no longer confined to Bunkyo. Real estate agencies now promote central Tokyo districts such as Minato, Shinjuku and Setagaya by linking them to elite universities. Chinese parents eager to secure places in top schools have also spurred a rapid expansion of cram schools across Japan.

Japanese universities have likewise attracted a considerable number of Chinese elites. According to Japanese media statistics, the University of Tokyo currently has 3,545 Chinese students, accounting for 70% of its international student population.

In addition, because the entry requirements for art colleges are relatively lower, visa agencies often recommend these institutions to Chinese students seeking to study in Japan. In recent years, the number of Chinese students enrolled in art colleges has surged, now comprising roughly 70% of international students in many of these institutions.

To retain highly skilled graduates, the Japanese government introduced a “Highly Skilled Professional” points system. Qualified foreign graduates can apply for permanent residency after working in Japan for one to three years, effectively creating a fast track to a green card. By contrast, other foreign nationals must reside in Japan for at least ten consecutive years before becoming eligible to apply.

Yu Korekawa of the National Institute of Population and Social Security Research observed, “Japan’s distinctive system of mass hiring for new graduates enables international students to find jobs and advance their careers more efficiently than in many other developed countries, including those in Europe and the US. Once international students secure employment and earn a salary, they typically meet the eligibility requirements.”

Statistics show that around 330,000 Chinese migrants have obtained residency through post-university employment — 1.4 times the number prior to the relaxation of the policy. After securing residency, they can also sponsor family members for residence visas.

Zhou from Heilongjiang moved to Japan three years ago with his wife to accompany their son, who was studying at university. They obtained Business Manager visas and settled in Chiba, a prefecture adjacent to Tokyo, where they purchased vacant properties to operate as guesthouses.

Zhou told Lianhe Zaobao that among developed countries, Japan offers relatively low living costs, a similar culture, and closer geographic proximity to China. He said, “I hope my child can experience a different educational environment and face less pressure from entrance examinations. More importantly, I hope that by studying in Japan, he can eventually secure permanent residency abroad.”

Yet uncertainty is emerging. After Sanae Takaichi took office as prime minister, the government signalled plans to tighten immigration policies. In October 2025, it raised the minimum capital requirement for the Business Manager visa — aimed at foreign entrepreneurs — sixfold to 30 million yen and introduced stricter criteria on applicants’ work experience and educational background.

Liu Xin, 36, now finds herself at a crossroads: remain in Japan or return to China. A year ago, she resigned from her foreign trade job in Beijing and had planned to migrate to the US with her seven-year-old daughter and nine-year old son. However, after immigration restrictions tightened under the Trump administration, she redirected her plans to Japan.

Holding Business Manager visas, Liu and her husband are permitted to reside in Japan for five years. Fluent in English, she has not given up on the idea of eventually moving to the US. She has enrolled her children in one of Tokyo’s top international schools, regarding Japan as a stepping stone.

“China-Japan relations are not good at the moment,” she said. “There are online rumours claiming that Japan is becoming anti-Chinese. What are we supposed to do? The more I read these emotional comments, the more anxious I become. I can’t help wondering whether I should continue staying in Japan.”

Chinese who have settled in Japan are broadly referred to as overseas Chinese — they are often distinguished as “old overseas Chinese” (老华侨) and “new overseas Chinese” (新华侨) based on when they arrived and their background.

Early migrants typically came to study or work. Over the past decade, as China’s economic strength grew, an increasing number of Chinese have chosen to settle long term in Japan for investment, education and lifestyle considerations. As a result, the structure and character of Japan’s Chinese community have been quietly evolving.

Wang Ping, 40, arrived in Japan as a student in the 1990s. Fluent in Japanese, she now works at a Japanese company engaged in trade with China, translating documents.

She believes that in Japanese society, perceptions of Chinese people have changed over time, but they have always been complex.

She said, “Ten years ago, some Japanese looked down on me, assuming Chinese people were simply here to make money. Now that many Chinese are wealthier, Japanese society tends to dislike those who appear too ostentatious. Overall, impressions of Chinese people are still not very positive.”

Wang added that her child’s classmates would tease her and say, “You’re Chinese, right?” — a remark that leaves parents feeling helpless.

As the Chinese population has grown, certain Japanese cities have seen the emergence of highly concentrated Chinese neighborhoods, colloquially referred to as “Little China”, such as the area around Ikebukuro Station in Tokyo. Chinese grocery stores and restaurants line the streets, most run by Chinese and catering to Chinese customers.

A new Chinese migrant who arrived less than a year ago said, “Life in Japan is very convenient. Within the Chinese community, there are one-stop services available online. From finding housing and signing mobile phone contracts to applying for a driver’s license, everything can be arranged through Chinese agents.”

Yet she cautioned against confining oneself entirely to the Chinese community. “You have to interact with Japanese people and make Japanese friends. Otherwise, you isolate yourself. If China-Japan relations become tense, we would feel especially vulnerable,” she said.

Japan’s earliest Chinese settlement dates back 160 years to the opening of the Port of Yokohama. Yokohama Chinatown is one of the oldest and largest Chinatowns in Japan. For more than a century, it has witnessed generations of overseas Chinese taking root, building businesses, and integrating into local society.

Today, long-established shops stand alongside newly opened ones. Many old family-run businesses have changed hands in recent years due to succession challenges or strategic shifts, often passing to new migrants. The younger generation is adept at following market trends, introducing popular Chinese street foods such as xiao long bao and mala tang, injecting fresh vitality into the historic district.

Zhu Mingjiang, 62, vice-president of the Yokohama Overseas Chinese Association, remarked, “New migrants are quick to adapt. Today it’s xiao long bao; tomorrow it’s mala tang. They are very responsive to trends. This new energy has made Chinatown lively again.”

At the same time, he acknowledged issues arising from rapid change, such as improper garbage sorting and failure to comply with community rules. He said, “These problems naturally attract criticism. As older overseas Chinese who grew up in Japan, we have a responsibility to remind and guide newcomers, so that together we can maintain the community’s image.”

For the older generation, World War II marked the most difficult chapter of life in Japan. Zhu recalled his elders’ accounts that during the war, Chinatown was sealed off, overseas Chinese were placed under strict surveillance by military police, and imports were restricted, dealing severe blows to Chinese businesses.

He said, “Nevertheless, there was no sharp confrontation between overseas Chinese and common Japanese folks. After the war, Japanese residents also took part in rebuilding Chinatown. In one market street, Japanese stallholders even spoke Chinese. Relations have long been harmonious.”

Today, Yokohama Chinatown attracts around 21 million visitors annually. Unlike the Chinatowns in other countries that primarily serve Chinese customers, about 90% of Yokohama Chinatown’s visitors are Japanese. Japanese media have even nicknamed it “a China without a passport”. Dragon and lion dances are held every year during Lunar New Year celebrations. This year, in addition to traditional festivities, children from nearby kindergartens visited all 400 shops in the district to offer New Year greetings.

Fu Shunhe, an 80-year-old retired teacher whose father hailed from Guangdong, said, “Many Chinese live in Chinatown, but that does not mean the entire street belongs to them. It is like visiting someone else’s home — you may admire it, but you must remember it belongs to someone else. For Yokohama’s old street to prosper for more than a century, cooperation with the Japanese has been essential.”

She added that during the Covid-19 pandemic, Chinatown faced some extreme rhetoric, “but most Japanese people spoke up for us and supported us.”

Within Japan’s overseas Chinese community, some have naturalised as Japanese citizens, while others retain Chinese nationality and hold permanent residency in Japan. Recent discussions by the government about tightening permanent residency qualifications have drawn close attention from the community.

In 2024, the ruling Liberal Democratic Party submitted a bill proposing to grant authorities the power, in serious cases, to revoke permanent residency from individuals who violate provisions of the Immigration Control and Refugee Recognition Act — for example, by failing to carry a residence card, or by accumulating prolonged tax or social insurance premium arrears.

For older overseas Chinese who have long settled in Japan, any erosion of the security of permanent residency has caused unease.

Zeng Desen, an adviser to the Yokohama Overseas Chinese Association, testified before the House of Councillors’ Judicial Affairs Committee that authorities had failed to consult Chinese residents — who account for nearly 40% of permanent residents — before proposing the amendment. He criticised the government for promoting Japan as a foreigner-friendly destination while simultaneously making permanent residency status less secure.

His concerns are also rooted in personal and family history. He recalled that during World War II, overseas Chinese were not permitted to leave Chinatown without authorisation. In 1965, when he held his wedding in Chinatown without having completed the official marriage registration, Japanese police came to question him.

Before the normalisation of China-Japan diplomatic relations, Yokohama Chinatown experienced political turbulence in the 1950s. Amid China’s civil war and cross-strait tensions, the local Chinese school split into two institutions — one maintained ties with the Republic of China, and the other, Yokohama Yamate Chinese School, aligned with Beijing. 

Fu Shunhe remembered that when she was in third grade, the original school split into two. She said, “Our textbooks could no longer be used, and the overseas Chinese community was forced to choose sides between the Nationalists and the Communists.”

Today, the two schools operate peacefully alongside one another, each committed to preserving the Chinese language and culture. A local Chinese businessman reflected, “We must keep politics at a distance and not let it dictate our daily lives. Customers would not want to step into a place filled with ideological conflict.”

Walking through Yokohama Chinatown, the most striking features are the ten ornate archways scattered throughout the district. The oldest, the Zenrin Gate (Goodwill Gate) built in 1955, bears a plaque inscribed with the words: “Treat neighbours with kindness and live in harmony.”

Over more than a century of upheaval, this Chinatown has endured war and prejudice while accumulating the experience and wisdom needed to coexist with local society. For many old and new overseas Chinese alike, how to uphold the spirit of good neighborliness amid historical memory, shifting identities, and the fluctuations of China-Japan relations remains a question that each generation must confront anew.

This article was first published in Lianhe Zaobao as “国际特稿：高市上台日本政治向右转 百万华侨此心何处可安放？”.

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