Symbol of hope for kidnapped Japanese citizens on Shinzo Abe’s lapel

Donald and Melania Trump now know why Shinzo Abe wears a blue ribbon on his lapel.

Donald Trump and Shinzo Abe with his trademark blue ribbon
on his lapel in Tokyo. Picture: AFP

Why does Shinzo Abe ­always wear a blue ribbon on his lapel?

Donald and Melania Trump now understand well.

The Prime Minister introduced them yesterday to relatives of some of the many Japanese people who were bizarrely seized, mostly between 1975 and 1985, by North Korean agents from coastal towns and ­cities.

The abductees were taken away in high-powered spy-ships, usually disguised as fishing vessels. They were held in isolation and forced to teach North Korean agents, linguistically and cultur­ally, how to impersonate Japanese people for plots to hijack planes, bomb public events, and kidnap or assassinate leaders around the world.

The blue ribbon is the emblem of a campaign, of which Mr Abe has been a strong supporter, to bring the abductees home.

The Japanese government recognises 17 such victims, with North Korea — under former leader Kim Jong-il — admitting to stealing 13. Other reports put the numbers in the hundreds. Larger numbers have been seized from South Korea.

Five of the 17 were allowed to return home after prime minister Junichiro Koizumi — accompanied by Mr Abe, then deputy cabinet secretary — flew to Pyongyang to confront Kim over the crimes.

Among those left behind in North Korea was Megumi Yokota, whose heartbreaking story was told to the Trumps yesterday by her mother, Sakie, and father, ­Shigeru.

Megumi, 13, played badminton after school, in a quiet suburban area next to the sea in the city of Niigata. She headed home for dinner with her parents and younger twin brothers.

The bubbly, bright girl waved goodbye to friends walking back to their families on nearby streets. And then disappeared.

The mystery only started to be solved 20 years later, in 1997, when the secretary of a Japanese MP who had visited Seoul to talk with escaped abductees, phoned out of the blue.

He said the MP had been told that among the stolen Japanese people in Pyongyang was a young woman who had been allowed to keep a precious reminder of her lost life — a badminton racquet.

Since then, the Yokotas, now in their 80s, have campaigned ­relentlessly to meet their daughter before they die.

Her father’s birthday was the day before she was stolen. Megumi gave him a comb.

His hair is now sparse, but he never leaves home without it in his pocket.