In Japan, minds are focused on things other than the war, reports Colin Donald.

ON the day that Emperor Akihito's visit was dominating British headlines, the Japanese networks had more urgent stories topping their evening bulletins: the elevation of a famous sumo wrestler to the sport's premier league, and a pop star's unexpected marriage to her dentist.

That a controversial state visit by the Emperor of Japan to an important ally should be all but unmentioned on TV, and minimally reported in most national newspapers, speaks volumes about Japan's equivocal view of its past conduct and of its present imperial family.

Mired in a stubborn economic recession, the Japanese are in no mood to be reminded either of their uncomfortable wartime history or of their

enduring diplomatic problems. Japan's

''prestige'' press - essentially a cartel of powerful newspapers and networks - appear to have agreed to play down the Emperor's visit, including his reconciliatory message to the country's former enemies.

Only the left-leaning Asahi Shimbun considered the Akihito trip worthy of extensive reporting, though not as the lead story, and not accompanied by its own original comment. Others restricted themselves to bland, unprominent reports of the Emperor's speech and itinerary. The right-of-centre Yomiuri Shimbun alone took a tentatively provocative line by running an editorial, disguised as a page three news report, headlined: ''UK's dark history ignored in demand for war apology''.

Effective self-censorship of this kind is not unusual in a culture with an inbuilt hatred of controversy and confrontation. Says Susumu Shimazono, a social scientist at Tokyo University: ''There is a gaping conception gap between Japanese and western views of the war. Many Japanese believe they suffered far more than the Westerners. But they know that if they make this case publicly it will cause trouble, so they prefer to keep silent.

''The media love happy stories. If the Emperor's visit was only a matter of British pageantry and ceremonial then it would undoubtedly have been far more extensively reported. British things are very popular at the moment.''

Although open criticism is taboo, there is also a sense that Emperor Akihito and the entire imperial family are of rapidly diminishing interest to the majority of Japanese.

The Emperor himself is too much inclined to ''deep sorrow and pain'' about the war, of the sort he expressed at Buckingham Palace, to satisfy older, unrepentant ''Tenno-ists'' or Emperor worshippers. At the same time he and his family, rigidly controlled by imperial civil servants, are perceived as insufficiently glamorous to provide even soap-opera

diversion for younger Japanese. Says Kenichiro-Senbon of the

Asahi Shimbun:

''The imperial family is like

beer that's lost its fizz. It means almost nothing.''

By coincidence the second day of the Emperor's visit overlapped with the departure of the Japanese World Cup squad to France. In contrast to the Emperor's travels, this event received saturation coverage across all news media.

It seems that after generations of national circumspection - from the Emperor downwards - about the fallout of the Pacific War, Japan's World Cup debut gives it an occasion for fanatical national pride, without guilt or fear of offence.