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Japan, explained.

Thousands of graves overlook the city below at Higashi Otani Cemetery in Kyoto, Japan (André Bourriquen/Hans Lucas/AFP via Getty Images)
As the nation’s Muslim population grows, local opposition to burial sites and mosques is turning into a political fault line.
About the author
Peter Chai
Peter Chai is a Research Associate in the Faculty of Political Science and Economics at Waseda University, Tokyo, Japan.
In late 2025, a debate over Muslim burial practices in Japan entered national politics in an unusual way. During a Diet committee session in November, Sanseito lawmaker Mizuho Umemura argued against (Opens in new window) expanding burial grounds for Muslims, citing environmental risks, land constraints, and the imperial family (Opens in new window)’s own shift towards cremation. Her remarks followed months of controversy over Miyagi Prefecture’s now-abandoned plan to establish burial space for Muslims and reflected how questions once treated as local administrative matters are being folded into broader debates over immigration, national identity, and social cohesion.
Japan’s Muslim population reached approximately 420,000 (Opens in new window) by the end of 2024, accounting for just 0.3% of the total population. Yet that figure represented a nearly fourfold rise compared with two decades earlier. Much of this growth has been driven by labour migration under Japan’s expanding foreign worker programs, particularly technical intern and skilled worker schemes. Indonesians make up the largest group, at around 200,000, followed by smaller but growing communities from Bangladesh, Pakistan, Malaysia, and Turkey.
As this population has grown, so too have practical challenges that Japan’s institutions were not originally designed to manage – notably, burial. Japan’s funeral system is overwhelmingly organised around cremation. According to the Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare, in the fiscal year 2018, 99.97% (Opens in new window) of the roughly 1.4 million deaths in Japan resulted in cremation. Of the 472 cases involving burial, 355 were stillborn fetuses.
For Muslims, however, cremation is generally prohibited. Islamic tradition requires the body to be washed, wrapped, and buried quickly. While Japanese law does not ban burial, the infrastructure for it remains extremely limited. Even among Catholics in Japan, who historically often preferred burial, cremation has become ever more common. As a result, fewer than a dozen cemeteries nationwide can currently accommodate Muslim burials.

Tokyo Mosque during Eid-Ul-Fitr, 20 March 2026, in Tokyo, Japan (David Mareuil/Anadolu via Getty Images)
The most prominent recent case emerged in Miyagi Prefecture (Opens in new window), where Governor Yoshihiro Murai announced in late 2024 that the prefecture would explore creating burial facilities as part of a broader effort to attract and retain foreign workers. Murai framed the proposal as a practical necessity for “multicultural coexistence”. Yet the backlash was immediate, with complaints focusing on environmental concerns, land use, and unease over the growing presence of Muslim residents. Although Murai initially defended the plan, he formally withdrew it in September 2025 after all local mayors signalled their opposition.
This pattern has not been limited (Opens in new window) to Miyagi. In Hiji, Oita Prefecture, plans for what would have been Kyushu’s first Muslim cemetery stalled after years of negotiation, and a local election in 2024 brought in a mayor who had campaigned against the project. In Sakuragawa, Ibaraki Prefecture, a burial initiative coordinated through a Buddhist temple was abandoned the same year after residents objected to the lack of consultation and raised concerns over hygiene and land use.
Mosque construction has generated similar tensions, as the number of mosques has risen to around 160 (Opens in new window) nationwide by mid-2025. In recent months, a mosque project in Fujisawa (Opens in new window), Kanagawa Prefecture, has become a focal point of controversy, with concerns raised over traffic, noise, and unfounded claims that the site would include burial facilities. An online petition (Opens in new window)opposing the project gathered more than 30,000 signatures. In Tokyo’s Taito Ward, meanwhile, plans to redevelop a small existing mosque into a larger multistorey complex have also triggered online debate.
In both burial and mosque controversies, social media has played a role in amplifying fears, often through misinformation or decontextualised images (Opens in new window). Claims about groundwater contamination, unauthorised burials, or broader “Islamisation” have circulated widely, even when local authorities or mosque organisers explicitly denied them. The rise of the right-wing populist Sanseito party and growing anti-foreigner rhetoric in recent elections indicate such issues are entering wider political narratives.
The ability of religious minorities to practise their faith often depends less on national policy than on local political conditions.
This is unfolding as Japan expands its foreign workforce without building a coherent integration framework. Foreign labour policy remains primarily a labour-market instrument, focused on filling shortages rather than managing long-term incorporation. There is no comprehensive national anti-discrimination law, no centralised integration system, and many practical issues, from language education to religious accommodation, are effectively left to municipalities.
This decentralisation produces uneven outcomes. Some communities adapt quietly, while others resist. In Kanazawa, Ishikawa Prefecture, for example, local Muslim communities gradually built trust (Opens in new window)with residents through repeated dialogue and open events, after mosque construction faced initial opposition. In other places, similar projects have stalled or collapsed entirely. The result is a fragmented landscape where the ability of religious minorities to practise their faith often depends less on national policy than on local political conditions.
As Japan’s foreign population grows and diversifies, these tensions are likely to become more frequent. This is particularly true as labour migration increasingly extends into Southeast Asia and South Asia, bringing greater religious diversity into regions with little prior experience of it. Japan’s challenge, then, is not simply whether it can accommodate Muslim burial or mosque construction. It is whether a country that is increasingly dependent on migration can build institutions capable of managing diversity. So far, Japan’s approach remains highly uneven, with responsibility largely devolved to local governments. As immigration increases and diversifies, that fragmented model may become harder to sustain.