If you’re old enough, you may remember where you were during the September 11 attacks.
You may even recall what you were doing when the news broke about the Bali bombings.
But can you remember where you were on the 20th of March, 1995? On this date, in one of the busiest and most populous cities on Earth, a Japanese doomsday cult with dangerous beliefs released a poisonous gas on three major subway lines in Tokyo.
This act was later named the Tokyo Subway attack and resulted in the deaths of 12 people and injuring over a thousand others.
The members of the sect were found, investigated, and prosecuted, most of them denying any responsibility.
During that affforementioned investigation, a strange connection was uncovered. A connection to a fake company and sheep station allegedly used as a testing facility in the red dirt of Western Australia.
It’s weird Wednesday. [music] Welcome or welcome back to another episode of Weird Wednesdays here on Shadow Matter.
The host with a haircut that’s reminiscent of a cult leader himself. [laughter] If you’re a fan of the weirder stuff, then this series is so up your alley, you’re practically married to it.
Okay, have you ever heard of I am Shenrio? Or how about Shoko Asahara? What about Banjo?
The Tokyo subway attacks took place in March of 1995. They were orchestrated by a group of religious salots with mixed religious influences called I am Shinrio.
Chances are you’ve probably heard of the event but never really remembered the full details.
Chances are also likely that you’ve never heard about a remote part of the Australian outback where an old sheep station called Banorn may have played a part in the subway attacks.
On March the 20th, 1995, during the morning rush hour, members of the group known as I am Shenrio boarded five trains on the Tokyo subway system.
The members were wearing protective gas masks and carrying 6in bags concealed by newspapers. The bags in question were filled with a powerful nerve gas called sarin.
During this busy morning, the members then pierced the bags of sarin with the tips of their umbrellas, which then released a poison onto unsuspecting passengers.
Once the nerve gas was fully released into the air, the subway passengers exposed to it suffered from severe coughing and choking attacks, vomiting, violent convulsions, foaming at the mouth, and fainting.
12 people died as a result of their exposure to the gas. 50 others were permanently injured and thousands were temporarily blinded.
During the investigation that took place in the days following the Tokyo subway attack, I am Shinrio denied any responsibility for connection to the incident.
In reality, the group had perpetrated the attack in large part in reaction to rumors that police were planning to stage raids on the I am Shenrio headquarters.
It then used the event to portray the group members as victims of social and political injustice.
Okay, but who or what is I am Shenrio? And how does a sheep station in the outback of Australia have anything to do with these attacks?
I hear you ask. Right, so let’s dive into the history of this religious sect first.
I am Shinrinko was a religious cult with a mix of Hindu, Buddhist, and Christian beliefs.
They also leaned heavily into the belief of a near and upcoming nuclear Armageddon. Ah, cool.
A cult that preaches the end of the world. That’s refreshing. The name I am Shininko means I am supreme truth.
The Japanese religious movement was founded in 1987 by Matamoto Chisor, also known as Asahara Shoko, and the members would refer to him as master.
The group attracted a sizable following, peaking at around 50,000 members in the early 1990s, primarily in Japan and Russia.
The movement espoused violent acts of aggression against dissenters and opponents and came to worldwide attention for deadly chemical weapons attacks in 1994 and 1995.
Asara Shako was born in 1955 with some issues. Some issues. This dude literally thought he was Jesus.
Yeah. But he was born partially blind, which may have contributed to his rejection by medical schools in the mid 1970s.
He opened his own business selling pharmaceuticals, specifically Chinese medicines, and was a member of a small religious movement called Agonu.
In the early 80s, old mate got caught for selling fake pharmaceuticals, and his business subsequently went bankrupt.
So what does he do? He does what any other narcissist with a strong delusion in the making does.
He starts a yoga practice. Why is it always yoga? Remember kids, stay away from yoga.
It’s a gateway cult. Drink beer and worship ba’ist instead. All hail the mighty panorama.
After a trip to the Himalayas in the mid 1980s, Asahara became endowed with delusions of grandeur.
He starts calling himself a prophet and claimed to have been personally asked by the Hindu god Shiva to be a part of what he called God’s army.
Asahara believed that he was chosen to give rise to a new kingdom where the people who lived in the kingdom held psychic powers.
This is where Asahara adopted his name that he would be known by to his followers.
He also began to call himself savior of the country and holy pope. He was also known by some as Tokyo’s Christ.
Asahara starts preaching his mixed beliefs and in the process gains thousands of followers. The followers of his church of madness become known as I am Shenrio.
He preaches a weird mishmash of religious hodgepodgey. Good word, eh? And claims to know that the world will end with a nuclear holocaust.
And his followers would be some of the only survivors. Well, this sounds familiar, doesn’t it?
The cult recruited some of Japan’s brightest young minds, and at its height in the early 1990s, it had tens of thousands of members.
Why would so many intelligent people fall for this nonsense you ask? Well, it may have to do with the fact that within the confines of the sect, young scientists could conduct experiments cart blanch.
Something that a normal scientific society would strictly regulate. And it was with these no limit scientific field studies that we come to the Australian connection.
IM operated several businesses. One was a computer business that was legitimate and profitable. Another business manufactured illegal drugs and chemical biological weapons which the group used in its attacks.
These chemical weapons included hydrogen cyanide, phosgene, sarin, and vx and biological weapons such as anthrax and botulinum toxin.
The latter of which I’ve never even heard of, so I hoped I pronounced that right.
Don’t come at me scientists. By the early ’90s, the group sought out the highly radioactive metal called uranium.
I know that one. Which they tried to enrich using a laser process. They believed technologies would help them survive in a post-apocalyptic world.
And to prepare for the doomsday prophecy, they carried out many of their experiments at Banjo Station, a 500,000 acre property in Western Australia.
In April 1993, three members of I am Shinrio arrived in Perth from Tokyo. The group of three included construction minister Kiohide Hayakawa, who was also the person instrumental in setting up IM’s operations in Russia, and intelligence minister Yoshihiro Ino.
They hired an Australian citizen of Japanese heritage, who was a real estate agent based in Perth, to view remote farming properties in Western Australia, which were then for sale.
They were evasive with the agent about their specific requirements. However, it became apparent that they were looking for a remote area with certain conditions.
The group indicated that they wanted to inspect properties where they could conduct experiments for, get this, benefit to humankind, but really they were there to look for uranium deposits.
The group was flown to several properties in the period of April 23rd to the 26th.
They would conduct experiments on the soil using laptops, attachments, and electrodes. They ultimately found their desired land.
An old sheep station some 603 km or 375 mi northeast of Perth. The station, yep, old Banjo.
Interestingly, they tried to purchase the property with cold hard cash, but were initially refused sale.
So, what did they do? They set up a couple of front companies, didn’t they?
Clarity Investments Limited in May 1993 and another company, Mahaposia Australia Limited, in June 1993.
The ladder was also used to import electrical equipment including transformers, static converters, generators, coaxial cabling, batteries, meters and tools, and protective equipment into Australia in September 1993.
Later on that year, another 25 members of I am Shenrio landed at Perth airport, but they were carrying some questionable cargo.
Australian customs found $30,000 worth of excess baggage that included gas masks, protective gear, and hydrochloric acid in containers marked hand soap.
You wouldn’t want to mix those ones up, would you? The cargo was discovered and two members were charged with carrying dangerous goods on a plane, but the group was free to enter Australia.
Japanese men were soon spotted in the northern gold fields a day drive from Perth where among the stockmen and gold prospectors they might have seemed a bit out of place.
Now a few witnesses from that time have reported what they were like. One is an ex courier who used to deliver mail to stations around the area.
He claimed they were young but looked gaunt as if they hadn’t eaten for days.
He also goes on to state that most of his usuals would quite comfortably have a cuppper and convo with him when he delivered their goods, but the members I am Shinrio not so much.
In fact, he used the word standoffish and a bit weird. He also said he heard strange repetitive tapes playing and once saw a man cutting the station’s lawn with scissors.
One woman he spoke to said she was purging demons from her body by drinking mustard and salt water.
Mustard and salt water get rid of demons. That’s why I use demonol from the makers of Vampereid and Mummy be gone.
He once delivered barrels of hydrochloric acid to the station. Some stations would occasionally order a small amount of chemicals for their swimming pools, but at Ban there was no pool.
It also seems that the new owners of Banjo Station had no interest in raising sheep.
Witnesses claimed that water points weren’t being checked and sheep weren’t being shared. In fact, the sheep may have been unwilling participants in deadly experiments.
More on that in a little bit. Most of the members left the property sometime in 1994 and the property was sold and rebought by a new family.
Some of the sex stayed on as caretakers and were noted for their unusual behavior.
Quote, “You’d come home and they’d be standing on their heads meditating or starving themselves to death for 3 days.”
[music] End quote. The family also found odd things throughout the property. Laboratory equipment such as beers, tubing, and bottles of chemicals.
The new family found it odd, but they didn’t put any more thought into it.
Their perception all changed after March the 20th, 1995. And it started with a phone call.
An anonymous caller from Japan asks a member of the family if they or any of their family have been bleeding from the ears or nose.
The anonymous voice on the end of the line told them to turn on the TV, but they didn’t own one.
Initially thinking it was a prank call, the family went on about their farm life, but the calls didn’t stop.
Soon, a friend with a TV turned it on to see the panic in Tokyo.
Absolute mayhem. A terror attack in Japan. Now, the family got extremely worried. They called their lawyer who informed federal police and so began the investigation that would uncover the murderous plan of a doomsday cult.
Immediately AFP officers from Perth accompanied by a chemist traveled to Banjo Station in a light aircraft provided by the Western Australian police.
It appeared that the sect had established a laboratory in the kitchen of an abandoned house on the station.
The laboratory door was marked in Japanese handwriting. Toyota Laboratory. This is an obvious reference to Tou Toyota, a sect member who arrived in Australia with Matsumoto.
Toyota is a physics graduate of Tokyo University. He also described his occupation as office worker on his Australian visa application.
Toyota was later arrested for his involvement in IM related criminal activities. He also admitted to producing sarin for the sex gas attacks.
Soil samples taken from a drain identified a presence of methyl phosphonic acid or MPA.
A residue of the nerve agent sarin. Not only that, but they also found documents written in Japanese that suggest they were experimenting with gas on sheep.
Even more frighteningly, evidence found that the cult was planning on making nuclear weapons at the station.
On April the 28th, 1994, two cult members returned to Japan. They were replaced by an IM member who is Australian citizen and Suyoshi Maki, a Japanese citizen who had been part of the IM’s original advance team.
Shortly after an earlier sarin gas attack, oh yeah, there was two of them. In June 1994, Banjo Station was offered for sale by Maha Posia.
Marky handled the details of the sale and seemed extremely anxious that the sale proceeded quickly.
The property was sold in late July 1994 for $237,000, almost $165,000 less than what I am had originally paid for it.
The IM’s activity on the property is partially known and to some degree still a mystery.
Various police sources indicate that Aayakawa was arrested in extracting uranium from Australia for the development of nuclear weapons.
When the poisonous haze finally lifted from the tunnels of Tokyo, Japan stood in shock.
The country known for its efficiency, discipline, and quiet order had been ripped open in the most horrifying way.
The world’s attention turned to the cult behind the carnage. I am Shinrio. And in the days, months, and years that followed, the story only got stronger.
In the immediate aftermath of the subway attacks, Japanese police launched one of the largest investigations in the country’s history.
More than 3,000 officers raided Amam Shiningo’s compounds across Japan. Inside, they didn’t just find prayer mats in holy scriptures.
They uncovered industrial labs, stockpiles of deadly chemicals, and blueprints for weapons of mass destruction.
The raids confirmed what investigators had suspected all along. I am Shenrio wasn’t just a bizarre French religion.
It was a fully equipped terrorist organization masquerading as a church. Shoko Asahara, the self-proclaimed messiah with a scraggly beard and vacant eyes, was captioned on May the 16th, 1995.
He had barricaded himself inside a compound holed up in a small room. When police finally broke in, they found him meditating, or at least pretending to, while his empire collapsed around him.
Japan’s court system took years to process the sheer scale of Iron’s crimes. Prosecutors brought forward cases not just for the subway attack, but for the group’s earlier sarin gas release in Matsumoto in 1994.
In total, more than 190 members of IM Shenrio were indicted. Trials dragged on through the late 1990s and into the 2000s.
Many of the cult senior leaders, chemists, engineers, [music] and close confidence of Asahara were convicted of murder and other charges.
Asahara himself was sentenced to death by hanging in 2004, but Japan’s death penalty system moved slowly and he remained on death row for 14 years.
Finally, in July 2018, Asahara and six senior members were executed. A week later, another six followed.
It was the end of Ayam’s leadership, but not the end of Ayam. After the subway attack, Japan officially stripped Aam Shinrinko of its religious status.
The cult’s assets were seized and its compounds raided, its leaders imprisoned or awaiting execution.
Most observers assumed this would be the end, but cults are like weeds. Cut them down and they sprout right back in new forms.
In 2000, I am rebranded itself as ALF, named after the first letter of the Hebrew alphabet.
Leaders claimed they had renounced Asahara’s violent teachings and returned to true Buddhism. But intelligence agencies weren’t buying it.
Neither would I. Japanese authorities kept ALF under surveillance, and for good reason. By 2018, the group still boasted around 1,500 members in Japan with satellite branches in Russia and beyond.
Other Splinter factions emerged, including one called Hikari Noir, or Circle of Rainbow Light, led by a former IM spokesperson.
While these groups avoid open talk of Sarin Gas or Apocalypse, their continued devotion to Asahara’s warped vision has kept them firmly on international watch lists.
Back in Western Australia, Benjamin Station became infamous. What had once been an unassuming sheep station was now a symbol of how close Australia had come to being a testing ground for chemical warfare.
It wasn’t just paranoia. I am Shenrio had a genuine interest in developing nuclear capability and Banjo was to be their launchpad.
The revelations forced Australia to re-examine its own national security vulnerabilities. How had a Japanese death cult managed to buy a 500,000 acre station, import chemical equipment, and quietly conduct experiments in the desert without setting off alarms sooner.
The Banjo saga helped spur changes in how Australia and its allies monitored the movement of both money and dangerous materials.
Import controls on chemicals tightened. Authorities paid closer attention to shell companies and foreign buyers snapping up remote properties.
Japan too rewrote parts of its legal system. New laws allowed for greater government monitoring of groups like IM even if they operated under new names.
The Public Security Intelligence Agency or PSIA still conducts regular raids on ALF facilities. Even decades later, the shadow of Sarin lingers.
For the families of victims, however, policy changes were cold comfort. The Tokyo subway attack left 12 people dead and thousands injured, many with long-term neurological and respiratory damage.
Survivors spoke of flashbacks, PTSD, and ongoing health issues. One man described his vision narrowing to a pinhole as he collapsed to the train floor.
Another spoke of chronic lung problems that never healed. The Japanese public, long accustomed to the idea that their country was safe from mass violence, struggled with a new reality.
Homegrown terrorism was possible. And it came not from foreign extremists, but from their own neighbors, classmates, and colleagues who had fallen under Asahara’s spell.
And what about that lonely stretch of red dirt in Western Australia? Today, Banjo Station is back in private hands.
Its connection to a Japanese death cult just another scar on its history. But remnants remain.
The homestead fell into disrepair. The sharing sheds rotted away. And in one outbuilding, Japanese writing scrolled on the walls still reminds visitors of the strange chapter when I am Shenrio called the outback home.
The Tokyo subway attack remains the worst domestic terror attack in Japan’s history. It exposed how a small fanatical group could marshall science, religion, and paranoia into mass murder.
It also highlighted how cults can infiltrate societies far beyond their borders. Banjuan became proof that isolation isn’t immunity.
Even the vast emptiness of the Australian desert could be colonized by imported fanaticism. And that’s the real legacy here.
The attack in Tokyo may have been contained to a handful of subway cars, but its ripples reached across the globe.
From Japanese courtrooms to the dusty plains of Western Australia, it’s a reminder that terror doesn’t always arrive with tanks or planes.
Sometimes it creeps in quietly, dressed in robes, muttering prayers, and buying sheep stations. This has been another weird Wednesday here on Shadow Matter.
