Say goodbye to a symbol of friendship—Japan is about to lose its last two pandas, and it’s hitting harder than you might think. For the first time in 50 years, Japan will have no pandas on its soil, leaving fans heartbroken and raising questions about the future of this beloved species in the country. But here’s where it gets controversial: as Xiao Xiao and Lei Lei prepare to return to China this week, tensions between Tokyo and Beijing are at an all-time high, making the chances of new pandas arriving anytime soon seem slim. Could this be the end of an era?
On Sunday, devoted fans gathered at Tokyo’s Ueno Zoo for the final public viewing, many clutching panda-themed toys and smartphones, eager to capture their last moments with the twins. Despite a strict one-minute viewing limit, the panda zone was packed with admirers calling out the bears’ names as they munched on bamboo. Even those without tickets showed up, determined to mark the occasion. Among them was Michiko Seki, a longtime panda enthusiast in a black-and-white panda-patterned shirt, who shared her bittersweet joy at seeing the twins healthy and thriving. Using the same camera she’d bought to photograph their elder sister, Xian Xian, who left Japan two years ago, Seki summed up the sentiment of many: “Japan needs pandas. I hope politicians can work something out.”
But here’s the part most people miss: pandas aren’t just cute faces—they’re diplomatic tools. China first sent pandas to Japan in 1972 as a gesture of goodwill to normalize relations between the two nations. Since then, these black-and-white bears have become national treasures, with a dozen pandas winning the hearts of the Japanese people. Yet, as Beijing retains ownership of all pandas and their cubs, their departure feels like more than just a zoo transfer—it’s a symbol of strained ties. When asked about sending new pandas to Japan, Chinese Foreign Ministry spokesperson Guo Jiakun simply replied, “We welcome Japanese friends to come visit them in China.” Ouch.
For some, like web engineer Takahiro Takauji, the pandas’ departure is deeply personal. Takauji, who has taken over 10 million photos of the pandas and published multiple photo books, considers the twins “just like my own children.” His days revolve around daily zoo visits, and his home is a shrine to pandas, adorned with mascots and ornaments. After securing a spot in the competitive online booking system for one last viewing, he snapped 5,000 photos in a single minute, determined to capture every motion of the twins. “I never imagined there would come a day when pandas would be gone from Japan,” he said, echoing the sentiment of countless fans.
But is this really the end, or just a pause? While Japan’s relations with China are fraught—thanks to disputes over Taiwan, territorial claims in the East China Sea, and delayed diplomatic approvals—pandas have historically transcended politics. Or have they? In 2012, a plan to bring a panda to Sendai after the 2011 earthquake and tsunami was scrapped due to a territorial dispute. Could this be a repeat of history, or is there still hope for panda diplomacy?
Economically, the absence of pandas at Ueno Zoo could cost Japan an estimated 20 billion yen ($128 million) annually, according to economist Katsuhiro Miyamoto. Souvenir shop manager Asao Ezure, whose store is filled with panda merchandise, worries about the impact but remains optimistic: “Pandas are a symbol of Ueno, a star. I believe they’ll come back.”
And this is the part that sparks debate: Should pandas be caught in the middle of political tensions? Or are they, as Seki puts it, “animals that can provide tremendous comfort”—a bridge between nations? As Japan bids farewell to its last pandas, the question lingers: Can diplomacy and conservation ever truly be separated? What do you think? Let us know in the comments below.
