If you had asked me about where epochal world events were most likely to occur, the assassination of a prominent Japanese politician, much less Shinzo Abe, would not have been remotely been on my radar. Yet, history has proven again to be a consummate trickster, and what once seemed wholly improbable, has had the recent tendency to come tragically true.
Abe’s death, could become the Japanese version of the JFK assassination. While tragic in and of itself, it has implications greater than the taking of a single life. It could shape a society, a generation, a nation and its region for years to come.
Foreign policy wise, Shinzo Abe's accomplishments during his tenure as Japan’s longest-serving premier were considerable. Returning to power in 2012 after a disastrous single year in charge, he reinvigorated Japan's global profile and guided it to global leadership, all the while building upon relationships with the United States, Australia, the United Kingdom, Vietnam, the Philippines, Brazil and India, all the while threading the diplomatic needle with an increasingly assertive China.
Domestically, Abe evolved Japan’s security posture streamlining the bureaucracy to allow greater centralization of defense and foreign policy decisioning within the Prime Minister’s Office. Notwithstanding criticisms from those who beheld his efforts at amending Japan’s pacifist Constitution as well as a perception among some of him as a revisionist promoting an aggressive nationalism, he oversaw Tokyo’s successful bid for the 2020 Olympics, and made more foreign visits than any Japanese leader. After a seeming endless period of revolving door prime ministers, he became for a generation a fixed point on the global stage.
For his part, Abe’s political influence persisted after he resigned for reasons of ill health in 2020. He remained a prominent heavyweight in Japan’s political world, with an outsized influence over policy. Because of the factional nature of Japanese political parties, most significantly within the ruling Liberal Democratic Party, former prime ministers tend to retain their influence well beyond their time in formal power. ‘Retirement’, in the western sense, does not always apply. While some like the aforementioned Koizumi have stepped back from public life, others like Yoshiro Mori, took on other roles (i.e. as chairperson for the Tokyo Olympics for a time). Yasuhiro Nakasone, friendly with U.S. President Ronald Reagan, continued to shape conservative politics in Japan for years long after his time as PM.
Abe became adept at the Japanese game of thrones, backing Yoshihide Suga, to be his successor as well as being instrumental in Fumio Kishida’s victorious prime ministerial bid. In November 2021, Abe took over as head of the LDP’s largest faction, giving him considerable real influence over the party’s direction as well as entrenching his power-broking status. As 2022 evolved, he involved himself in the Kishida administration’s policy decisions, exercising substantial behind the scenes influence as a gatekeeper with real veto power.
Abe's death has resulted in a major political void which, while unlikely to affect the outcome of the Upper House election, does mean that his faction is temporarily rudderless, and will need a new leader. In the meantime, the conservative wing of the party loses its most powerful go master, allowing PM Kishida an opportunity to create a new political identity out of the shadow of such a powerful predecessor.
For Japanese society as a whole, there are more existential questions. Gone will be the feeling of ‘this kind of thing just doesn’t happen here.” Japan has some of the toughest gun laws in the world (i.e. prospective firearm owners have to go though extensive background checks with families interviewed as well as psychological means testing for applicants) yet this ostensibly disgruntled former Marine Self Defense Force member somehow circumvented the legal and societal checks to fashion his own homemade firearm. In this wired world, the efficacy of laws alone in a society so driven by rules will need to be examined with implications for personal freedom.
Was this yet another case of a disaffected, reclusive middle-aged man – a “crazy” - who snapped? Should the system have flagged him before he descended into whatever personal hell resulted in such a calamitous act? How does Japan tackle the issue of a growing class of isolated people struggling with mental health, such as the hikikomori? In such a structured society where every Japanese is born with a interlaced network of obligations which will follow him/her throughout their lives , consensus is king and discretion is prized can such discussions even happen at a national policy-making level?
On a more day to day level this shock to the Japanese system will raise the issue of how politicians campaign. Can Japan remain a society where politicians are expected to expose themselves in such a front-line manner? How will security at public gatherings and for government officials be handled? The goal in all those efforts will be to mitigate against a recurrence of such a heinous act.
At this moment, there are only questions. And, whatever one may think of him and his legacy, Shinzo Abe's end demands answers.
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