Based on external appearances alone, Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe seems like an amiable sort, the kind (to paraphrase Margaret Thatcher about Mikhail Gorbachev) the world “can do business with.” With his infectious grin, telegenic wife Akie -- often referred to as “the domestic opposition party” for holding personal views (such as legal rights for the LGBT community) often at odds with his and who frequently accompanies him on international visits, as well as a proclivity for quirky, endearing gestures like dressing up as Super Mario at the 2016 Rio Olympics, Abe has constructed a modernistic image for himself that serves in stark contrast to the more dour, faceless visages projected by many of his predecessors.
As the cliché goes, however, looks can be deceiving. Under the carefully crafted image, Shinzo Abe may well prove to be one of the most influential strongmen in office today.
He has none of the external bluster commonly associated with that class of leader: unlike the fiery, provocative stream-of-consciousness bombast of Rodrigo Duterte or the tempestuous pre-dawn tweets from Donald Trump’s cell phone-driven mind, Abe virtually never speaks candidly. His public rhetoric is measured, well-parsed, conservative, occasionally even opaque, often full of diplomatic niceties that offer little or no window into either his personality or his truly held views. Neither does he favor vainglorious, testosterone-inspired gestures which outwardly like Duterte's promise to eradicate the Philippines' drug issue within six months of taking office or Trump's Great Wall of Mexico, which that nation shows no sign of funding, policies which have riven both nations’ internal polity and provoked external outrage, even derision. In personal flamboyance, Abe’s one concession to vanity has been his much brylcreemed pompadour. Yet, like Turkey's Ergodan, he has used democratic elections to secure virtually dictatorial parliamentary powers.
How is this possible? After all, isn't Japan a nominal democracy based on a bicameral political structure similar to that of both the United States and Great Britain? Didn't General Douglas MacArthur fashion a pacifistic constitution which enshrined a commitment to ensure that, much like Germany, the land of the rising sun would forever have a defensive, defanged military that would never again be subject to the will and whims of either an imperialistic faction or ruler?
Unfortunately, European or North American powers have always suffered a kind of collective historical or cultural myopia -- perhaps the result of a "colonial hangover" -- when regarding Asian nations, never fully grasping the fundamental reality that though these countries may have all the outward trappings of similarity with westernized civilization, beneath the all the glittering steel and glass of CBDs, despite having shopping malls chock a bloc with McDonald's , KFCs, Zaras and Tiffany's beat very different traditional, socio-political hearts.
For all its external similarities with Western culture, Japan has continued to retain many of the qualities which characterized its feudal history. Though there is a technical democracy with parliamentary-style elections for the Diet (or Lower House) and Upper House, in reality, the post-war political system is in the vice-like grip of three key interest groups, none of which are truly accountable to the electorate.
Japanese political parties as less a united group of politicians with common philosophical interests than an agglomeration of factions, each with its own leaders, internal hierarchies and loyalties. Traditionally factions combine to form a numerical majority within each party and “elect” a party President, who then takes on the role of Prime Minister for short two or three-year terms. He (no woman has ever been PM, though this might change as we will see later) then fashions a cabinet balancing the interests of the factions which propelled him to office. In this manner decision-making is based on internal debate, consensus, and horse-trading, all of which can cause policy making to move (at best) at a sclerotic pace, and at worst, result in total gridlock which in turn subjects the nation to long periods of legislative ennui.
As the ruling party for 95% of the fifty-two years since the end of World War Two, the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) which was neither liberal, remotely democratic, nor even a party (rather than a loose collection of factional politicians) has owed its political dominance to its ability to reap vast amounts of largesse from an incestuous, almost symbiotic relationship with major corporations and lobby groups whose soul unifying interest is to retain power at virtually any cost.
LDP politicians at local and national levels are well-funded (to almost limitless extents virtually impervious to external audit) by powerful disparate interests such as the rice-growing farmers' associations as well as vast construction companies who are themselves controlled by keiretsu (or mega-corporations, the equivalents of South Korea’s chaebols), all of which funnel massive sums into local constituencies for re-election campaigns. In turn, grateful members of the Diet vote for protectionist tariffs on American/European/ASEAN rice imports, generous subsidies for the farmers (so much so that many farmers have never had much incentive to embrace modern technology to increase efficiency and crop yield). In addition, so interconnected with the construction industry has the LDP become that the Japanese landscape is dotted with ribbons of superhighways, bridges and roads which far exceed the needs of the local populace yet have been the payback by grateful politicians mindlessly granting contract after contract for years of bankrolling re-election. It is a sad fact that Japan remained in more than two decades’ worth of economic stagnation precisely because each successive government has sought to stimulate growth only via the means of pumping vast amounts (i.e. one stimulation package cost taxpayers $700 billion US) into infrastructure spending without making corresponding reforms in the regulatory, fiduciary and tax structures. As of this writing the total national debt runs about 200% of GDP, or one quadrillion yen (US$10.46 trillion) in 2013, mainly owing to such examples of rampant profligacy.
As the son and grandson of LDP politicians (his maternal grandfather served as prime minister from 1957-1960), Shinzo Abe grew up acquainted with this national political dynamic, went to good schools, spent some time abroad at USC and rose rapidly in the party power structure, mentored by the charismatic reformist Junichiro Koizumi, whom he succeeded as PM in 2006, the youngest at age 52 since 1941.
His first term, plagued by illness and leadership inexperience, ended unceremoniously a year later. This ushered in a brief period of opposition rule, partly the result of public backlash at the anemic economy and repeated revelations of LDP incompetence, indolent drift and graft by his successors.
By 2012, he was back in power, his medical condition rendered manageable by a previously unavailable drug, and under the winning slogan of “Take Back Japan,” promising economic revival through monetary easing, higher public spending and the continued use of nuclear energy, and a tough line in territorial disputes. Moreover, the electorate, fed-up with five years of muddled, rudderless opposition party rule, handed the LDP’s coalition two-thirds of lower house seats, which effectively allowed it to overrule any upper house veto.
Abe has played his second electoral hand with deft audacity: he introduced a very American (and very un-Japanese) style of packaging policy into pithy audience-friendly metaphors: he based his public focus on a widely-popular set of initiatives designed to revive the moribund economy, euphemistically labelled ‘Abenomics.’ Casting himself as a modern-day samurai, Abe promised to fire so-called "three arrows" (an allusion to an old Japanese story) of policy. The first arrow is monetary expansion aimed at achieving a 2% inflation target, the second a flexible fiscal policy to act as an economic stimulus in the short term, then achieve a budget surplus and the third, a growth strategy focusing on structural reform and private sector investment to achieve long-term growth. This approach in and of itself was a fundamental break from years of previous governments mindlessly ploughing money into construction projects with limited effect.
He has not played it safe in other areas, pushing for unpopular policies. The government’s plan to restart many of Japan’s nuclear-power plants, most of which were forcibly idled after the post 2011 tsunami Fukushima Dai-ichi disaster, continues to be fiercely resisted by many Japanese, whose memories are justifiably affected by the searing events of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The LDP also pushed hard for the Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP), a trade deal about which many private citizens and corporations felt ambivalent as it would have opened hitherto subsidized, even closed, markets to international competition. Donald Trump’s victory notwithstanding, Abe still hopes for some sort of regional trade agreement, and went so far as to rush off to New York to meet the new President-elect without formally informing the Obama administration, all in hopes of assuring the new man that Japan was not a trade enemy and that a bilateral agreement was even possible.
These have been laudable efforts, with the potential to alter Japan fundamentally: the very act of his willingness to break with political tradition in attempting structural reforms while seeking to bypass traditional power structures such as factionalism demonstrates a clear commitment to shake up the system. Yet, in one other aspect, Abe has proven himself a far stauncher traditionalist, with unsettling implications for both for his country and Asia.
Like his mentor Koizumi, the Prime Minister is an avid nationalist (some would say apologist) whose view of the Second World War tends to minimize Japan’s role in instigating the 1931 conflict with China as well as mitigating the subsequent conflagration which engulfed East Asia as a justified act in order to secure both national survival and Dai Nippon’s natural destiny as the leader of all oriental races.
Under Abe’s leadership, legislation passed last year lifted some of the restrictions on the Self-Defence Forces (SDF), as Japan’s military is called. The defence budget has also materially increased, to $42 billion this next fiscal year, partly to counter China’s $130 billion plus yearly expenditure, with the Prime Minister eager to be seen as President Trump’s staunch ally and bulwark against Beijing’s aggressive militarisation of the South China Sea. Significantly it’s not so much the actual $ amount of defence spending that bears close scrutiny but rather what that money is allocated for purchase: for example, Japan has requested the US sell her a quantity of F-35 Joint Strike Fighters – arguably the most advanced (and certainly the most expensive) fighter aircraft in the current American arsenal, which, with typical ingenuity, their scientists will likely modify and enhance; the Abe administration has also embarked upon the construction of large “helicopter destroyers,” the size and capabilities of which less resemble escort vessels than bona fide aircraft carriers, a type of warship that recalls the seaborne aircraft launching pads which, half a century ago, ranged across the Pacific, sent the US Pacific fleet’s battleships to the bottom at Pearl Harbour, and dealt a hammer blow to the defence of Singapore by taking down HMS Prince of Wales and the Repulse. Carriers are not designed to be defensive weapons -- like China’s geriatric ‘Liaoning’ they are powerful tools to project power far beyond a nation’s territorial waters.
Add to this Abe and his wife’s personal support for the Moritomo Gakuen school, an ostensibly religious school the education curriculum of which harkens back to pre-war times and aims to instill patriotism of a kind which infused Imperial Army thinking and led to militarist faction’s dominance in the days prior to the first incursion into China. This is also in line with the re-working of Japanese textbooks to play down the essentially aggressive nature of Japan’s land grab in China and reworks the Pacific war in language more akin to justifying that conflict as less a war of aggression than a fight for national survival with “Asia for the Asians” overtones. That Abe handpicked the controversially conservative Tomomi Inada as Minister of Defence (and his likely successor) – she is skeptical that the Nanjing Massacre took place and refuses to acknowledge the veracity of many war crimes claims.
Should Abe follow through on his heart’s desire and use his hefty parliamentary majorities to change the constitution and remove the pacifist language still hemming in the SDF from conducting non-defensive deployments, he would doubtless provoke ire not only among his own population but also cause concern in ASEAN capitals as well. Moreover, the present Emperor, Akihito, is an avowed peacenik, who has had no hesitation in countering his premier’s revisionist tendencies.
Acutely aware of the risks inherent in adopting too overt a stance on militarism and aggressive rearmament, Abe is playing the same kind of long game that saw him methodically rise to power. He is nothing if not patient, waiting for the appropriate moment (as with Trump's election) to take advantage of opportunity. Publicly, he has promised to concentrate on the paramount priority of returning Japan’s economy to health, slaying deflation and ensuring that his three arrows hit their targets.
The results thus far are mixed. In the battle to revive Japan’s economy, his government has disappointed. In a poll published in late October, 2016 by the Pew Research Center, 68% of Japanese said they were unhappy with the state of the economy. Inflation remains far below the government’s 2% target. Wages have risen only slightly, and the traditional lobby groups are deeply nervous of any trade deals which would almost certainly end their profligate (and unsustainable) subsidies.
Yet in spite of this mixed news, Abe remains personally popular, boosting the LDP’s favourability ratings (a recent poll put his government’s approval rating at 51%, having fallen from its 60% high due to some very bad optics surrounding his alleged involvement with sweetheart land deals for the Moritomo Gakuen School). His is a very personalized style of leadership requiring him to be very visible, to a degree unprecedented for Japanese leaders, acting as a kind of high-profile super-salesman for Japan’s technology and guaranteeing coverage throughout the nation’s placid media. His adversaries are also chronically weak: the opposition Democratic Party’s stint in power was widely perceived as being so ineffectively laughable that its image has still not recovered and it trails far behind the LDP in the polls.
Likewise, within the ruling LDP, Abe has no internal rivals capable of mounting a significant challenge to his leadership. Electoral reforms in the 1990s and reinforced by former Prime Minister Koizumi greatly reduced the influence of its once powerful factions and Abe has invested much power in ensuring that Chief Cabinet Secretary (a position he once held) Yoshihide Suga, can keep them in line. Colleagues with ambition -- such as Foreign Minister Fumio Kishida -- have been appointed to important posts from which they cannot openly criticize him (shades of Lincoln's 'team of rivals' approach, which shows that Abe is a sagacious reader of history). At the last leadership election, in 2015, he ran unopposed after a would-be rival could not secure the necessary nominations from LDP lawmakers. Recently, the LDP leadership voted to overturn the rule which limited a party president to two consecutive terms, which, in effect, allows Abe to theoretically remain in office as Prime Minister past the Tokyo Olympics in 2020. This would make him Japan’s longest serving post-war leader and, barring any scandal, ensure that he dictate his eventual successor, further enshrining his policies well into the next generation.
Finally, so long as China continues her heavy-handed usage of gunboat diplomacy (i.e. sending the ‘Liaoning’ and her battlegroup on threatening cruises around Taiwan and the South China Sea to assert hegemony over the much-maligned and International Court-dismissed ‘Nine Dash Line’), Abe will continue to push Japan’s role as a vital counterbalance to the would-be regional superpower’s, not only as America’s most steadfast ally but as a nation willing to stand up to bullies such as North Korea. It's no accident that so soon after the 'Liaoning''s cruise through disputed waters (Japan has no stake in in the South China Sea dispute, though she is locked in often bitter exchanges with China over a set of islands off Taiwan referred to as the Senkakus by the Japanese and the Diaoyu Islands by China), Abe is about to dispatch the 'Izumo' on a regional "show the flag" junket of its own. This would mark the first time since World War Two that such a powerful Japanese vessel will visit nations such as the Philippines, Singapore, Indonesia and Sri Lanka. It is, in effect, a declaration that henceforth Japan sees herself as America's ally and avatar in Asian affairs. to preserve, protect and defend, if necessary, the peace.
All this has had an adrenaline boost effect on Japan's once battered psyche. After years of political inaction, timid foreign policy, and unimaginative technocratic economic tinkering, the Japanese are tired of losing confidence in both themselves and the nation. Long before Donald Trump's 'Make America Great Again' slogan, the people threw their support behind a man with a plan, even if they didn't necessarily agree with all of it. Ergo, there are lessons here for governments who are too used to playing it safe. Tough times call for innovative thinking, and sometimes one has to look to the past to save the future, and if the price is recurrent nationalism infused with bushido can-do spirit, then back to the future it must be.
Shinzo Abe is in a uniquely powerful position for a Japanese head of government, bestriding the nation like a political Godzilla. How he intends to use his unprecedented power remains, like the man, enigmatic. We know he has been bold, pushing his ideas on security and international relations, coming up with the "Three Arrows" strategy etc. That same steadfastness needs to be deployed on equally urgent and perhaps far more strategic challenges such as Japan’s shrinking population and plateaued economic model. His labor market and immigration reforms have been tentative, unimaginative, needing far more daring from an aspiring samurai. He should consider reviving a plan to remove a tax credit that discourages married women from working full-time, and encourage innovation in moribund industries that can produce, at best, part-time work. It would be a shame to accumulate so much authority, so much power, only to squander it.
He has proven that he can win elections, and he has been given a mandate to act.
For Japan, for better or worse, Abe is the man of the moment.
Can he be a man for the ages?