In Tokyo’s relentless push for redevelopment, the city’s green lungs are under siege. This week, Jingu Gaien, one of the few remaining historic green spaces in Tokyo, witnessed the start of large-scale tree cutting and transplanting as demolition began at Jingu Daini Baseball Stadium. This project, aimed at modernizing the Meiji Jingu Gaien area, includes plans to relocate and rebuild the beloved Jingu Baseball Stadium and Chichibunomiya Rugby Stadium, as well as to construct two new skyscrapers. Some would argue, but at what cost?
Environmentalists and Tokyo residents alike have expressed outrage at the plan, citing concerns over environmental degradation and the diminishing green spaces in the city’s heart. Criticism reached such a level that the felling of trees, initially scheduled to begin over a year ago, was postponed at the request of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government. This delay was meant to give developers time to adjust the project and incorporate measures to preserve the trees—a process that has now resulted in a reduction of trees to be felled from the initial 740 to approximately 620. Meanwhile, the number of trees to be transplanted has increased to 1,098, a small concession that some environmentalists argue falls short of true preservation.
The developers, which include Mitsui Fudosan and the religious organization Meiji Jingu, claim that this redevelopment is essential for “protecting the inner garden.” But many argue that this justification is a thin veil, obscuring the long-term ecological impact of displacing nearly 620 mature trees, some of which are irreplaceable. While the total project cost is a staggering 349 billion yen, Tokyo’s environmental price tag is harder to calculate.
The concerns over the Jingu Gaien redevelopment reflect a deeper tension in urban planning—a balance between development and preservation. Tokyo, a sprawling metropolis of steel and concrete, has historically struggled to maintain adequate green spaces for its residents. With the completion of this redevelopment projected for 2036, citizens are left to wonder if the trade-off is worth the irreversible transformation of a space that has provided cultural and environmental value for decades.
Tokyo must critically assess its development priorities. While modernization brings economic benefits, the cost to the environment and community must not be ignored. The city’s trees, parks, and gardens are more than just scenic spaces—they are essential for urban biodiversity, mental well-being, and a reminder of the cultural heritage that binds Tokyo’s past to its present. Without careful consideration, these redevelopments risk erasing more than trees; they threaten to dismantle an integral part of Tokyo’s identity.
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