Kyle Hecht is a senior and B.A. candidate in Government at Harvard College. Although originally from Northern California, Kyle graduated from high school in Lima, Peru, where he resided for three years with his family. He spent the academic year 2008 - 2009 abroad in Kyoto, Japan, and has interned with both Tokyo Gas and the Japan External Trade Organization Institute of Development of Economies in Tokyo. He is fluent in both Spanish and Japanese. His bi-weekly Tuesday posts for the Harvard International Review Blog focus on Japanese politics, and address the society, democratic process, bureaucratic structures, mass-media, and foreign policy of Japan.
DPJ victory in Japan’s election key moment, but unlikely to bring great policy change
In 1955, Japan had been a sovereign state for three years and a democracy for nine. The nation had not yet escaped the wake of the Second World War, and its people had only just begun to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives.
That year, Japan’s two largest conservative parties, the Liberals, led by Yoshida Shigeru, and the Democrats, headed by Hatoyama Ichirō, joined to create the Liberal Democratic Party, or LDP, a political juggernaut that proceeded to dominate Japanese politics for the next fifty-four years. During the LDP’s half-century, Japan achieved the most triumphant economic recovery in human history, rising from the ashes to claim its position as the world’s second-largest economy.
That half-century ended last week. On August 30th, the LDP suffered its second electoral defeat in history, and most disastrous. The opposition Democratic Party of Japan (DPJ) headed by the grandson of Hatoyama Ichirō, Hatoyama Yukio, scored a landslide 308 of 480 seats in Japan’s more powerful lower house of parliament. The moment was an important watershed in the story of Japan’s democracy, but will not likely translate into large, concrete changes in the Japanese political system.
Five decades of effective single-party rule have gradually chipped away at the LDP brand. Whereas years ago a voter might have supported the party for its sound economic track record, that same voter today would likely be put off by the organization’s gradual descent into cronyism, corruption, and ineptitude. The LDP has historically maintained a strong “iron triangle” with bureaucracy and big business, a relationship that, in the past, was vital to the implementation of many successful growth policies. Yet, the cataclysmic implosion of Japan’s “bubble” economy smashed the party’s economic credentials, and recently the “triangle” has become the source of a growing number of scandals.
The party has proven unable to produce qualified leadership, and has fallen into a pattern of electing the incompetent sons of famous postwar politicians to the premiership. Japan has cycled through three such “succession” PMs in the last three years. Shinzo Abe, whose father and grandfather had both been prominent politicians, resigned after his administration lost 50,000 pension records and a cabinet member to suicide. Fukuda Yasuo, whose father held the premiership from 1976 to 1978, was dumped for conspiring to cover-up contaminated dumpling imports from China. And now Aso Tarō, the soon-to-be former LDP President and ex-prime minister, whose grandfather was Yoshida Shigeru of the old Liberal Party, father a close associate of Prime Minister Tanaka Kakuei, and father-in-law Prime Minister Suzuki Zenko, has been ousted for a poorly administered cash-handout policy, aura of aloof wealth and embarrassing inability to read complicated Japanese characters.
On August 30th voters decided they had had enough. The Japanese electorate spoke decisively in favor of regime change, and granted the opposition DPJ a significant majority in the lower house. The party now holds majority sway in both houses of parliament, enabling it to pass legislation with little obstruction.
The result is a slap against the Liberal Democrats, but not a sign of confidence in their rivals. Practically speaking, the DPJ has brought very little new to the table, and rather than promoting substantive debate in parliament, the party has appeared more interested in obstructing the LDP. Many Japanese fear that the DPJ lacks the tact and maturity to lead the nation, but having little in the way of viable options, have chosen to put aside this fear and trust them with the reins of government.
Exit poll data indicates that voters sought a change in leadership over a change in direction. After all, the DPJ is an LDP offshoot, and both parties are nearly identical in terms of worldview and political ideology. Those interviewed did not express disapproval of the general policy orientation of their government, but rather sincere distrust of the LDP’s ability to rule effectively. They hoped their votes would serve as reminders to the Liberal Democrats that their position is not assured, and that they must clean up their act if they hope to return to power again.
This is a moment of democratic revival in Japan. It is a reminder to Japanese voters that they are the masters of their own futures. Many who have never voted against the LDP in their lives are learning the problems that can arise when a political party is empowered for decades without being kept properly accountable. Even if the LDP were re-elected in the next election, they would be a better party for having lost, and the Japanese voter a better citizen for having voted them out. Due to the parties’ similarities, in practical terms the election of the DPJ will amount to little more than a change of face, but in the long run it could prove an important step to a more responsive Japanese democracy.
Aso clears hurdle to Japanese premiership, but can he save the LDP brand?
On September 22nd, former Foreign Minister Taro Aso was elected president of Japan’s ruling Liberal Democratic Party (LDP), filling a void left by Prime Minister Yasuo Fukuda’s hasty resignation earlier this month. As the LDP, together with its coalition partner New Komeito, maintains a majority in the more powerful Lower House of the Japanese parliament, the vote is widely assumed to have crowned Aso as Japan’s next PM. In fact, it is expected.
Save for a brief bump from 1993 to 1994, LDP internal elections have chosen the Japanese head-of-state for the better part of five decades. As such, a politician’s pedigree and LDP connections are often most determinant of his (so far no “her” PMs) potential to become prime minister.
Aso, of course, is no exception. His grandfather was Prime Minister Shigeru Yoshida, famous for the “Yoshida Doctrine” of promoting Japanese economic might first and geopolitical influence second. His father was a close associate of Prime Minister Kakuei Tanaka, and his father-in-law Prime Minister Zenko Suzuki. His younger sister is married into the Japanese royal family.
Because they are not directly elected, Japan’s premiers rarely last more than two years. The Japanese citizen often feels little attachment to their prime minister, and is quick to blame him for wider government scandals and inefficiency. As such, PMs are convenient scapegoats for the Liberal Democrats; when one fades in popularity they are quickly swapped out for another.
Of course, the LDP’s ability to cherry-pick prime ministers is directly dependent on its hold on the Lower House. The Liberal Democrats are only as good as their brand.
That brand has suffered serious damage in recent years. Following the pop of the Japanese “bubble” economy in 1990, the LDP’s previously pristine economic record burst spectacularly into flames. Ever since, the party has been hanging on by a thread, wrangling coalitions with lesser parties to maintain control.
Things improved somewhat during from 2001 to 2006, during which the energetic and dogmatic Junichiro Koizumi held office. Jun-chan, as he was often affectionately referred, was known for his lion-esque mane, love of Elvis, and dogged passion for cutting the government budget.
While Koizumi’s aggressive governance delighted some Japanese, his heavy-handedness caused equal controversy. He took power with an approval rating of 85%, finishing, after a number of LDP scandals and economic downturns, just above 50%.
After Koizumi the LDP lost its moxie. It’s charisma-counter reset to zero, leaving the party with scandal but no schmooze. His successor, Shinzo Abe, was best known for his vague promise of a “Beautiful Japan” and using too many foreign words in his speeches. He resigned in a year after the suicide of one of his cabinet members and losing 50,000 pension records. Fukuda, little more charming than the average salaryman, was done in by covering up pesticide-laden dumpling imports from China, a contaminated rice scandal, continued economic troubles, and failing to make peace with the opposition.
Aso’s appointment as Party President is very telling of the LDP’s want for a new Koizumi. Known for a fiery speech in Tokyo’s nerdy Akihabara district, in which he proudly praised manga’s contribution to Japan’s image abroad, Aso possesses some of the Koizumi spark. A self-proclaimed “hawk” who is wont to speak his mind regardless of consequences, he just may be the man the LDP is looking for.
Yet, I wonder how long the Liberal Democrats can survive Koizumi-to-Koizumi. In recent years the opposition Democratic Party of Japan has effectively used LDP blunders as stepping-stones, and is rapidly gaining in the polls. Unless the Liberal Democrats can effectively fix the Japanese economy and clean-up party corruption, they may reach a point in which cosmetic solutions just won’t be enough.
Don’t count on a new era of Japanese politics just yet, though. If there’s one thing the LDP is good at, it’s holding on.
In Japan, burden falls on advocacy groups to protect peace constitution
In Japan, the first days of May are ripe with national holidays. Most take advantage of this “Golden Week” to travel, spend time with relatives, or enjoy a much-deserved break from the tasking day-to-day of the salaryman. This year, 30,000 citizens chose to spend their time contributing to an undertaking considerably more daunting than the Japanese workweek: protecting Article 9, the war-renouncing clause of Japan’s constitution.
They were drawn together by the Global Article 9 Conference, a three-day event held in the cities of Tokyo, Hiroshima, Osaka, and Sendai. Organized by the Japanese non-profit “Peace Boat”, The Global Article 9 Conference attracted not just Japanese, but participants from all corners of the globe. It coincided with recent moves taken by conservative politicians to amend the constitution and facilitate deployment of the Japan Self-Defense Forces (JSDF) abroad. Organizers sought international support for their fight against constitutional revision, insisting that the principles enshrined in Article 9 should be adopted by other states committed to global peace. The Conference’s many guest speakers, including Nobel Peace Laureates Mairead Corrigan Maguire (1976), Wangari Muta Maathai (2004) and Jody Williams (1997), supported this message.
The Global Article 9 Conference was noteworthy not only for its passion and energy, but also as a mirror of current growth of anti-war advocacy in Japan. As the government picks up speed and threats to the Japanese constitution intensify, citizens are organizing en masse against remilitarization. Peace Boat is one of many interest groups formed since the year 2000 to advocate for retention of Article 9. With the cause neglected by opposition parties and courts, such groups assume the burden of blocking the vehement revisionism of the ruling Liberal Democratic Party (LDP). However, in a nation where advocacy organizations have historically been discouraged, scrutinized and regarded with suspicion, will Peace Boat and its allies be able to meet the challenge?
Article 9 of Japan’s constitution explicitly bars the state from maintaining a military and from the “use of force as means of settling international disputes.” The provision, drafted by U.S. officials after World War II, loses some of its explicitness when translated into Japanese. Shortly after the end of U.S. occupation, General Douglas Macarthur encouraged Japan to develop a defense force of its own, emphasizing that such a body would not conflict with Article 9. Conservatives eager to restore Japan’s military independence agreed. The result was the JSDF, which has grown to be one of the best-funded forces in existence. For many Japanese, and especially those old enough to remember the horrors of World War II, it represents a disturbing move toward remilitarization and a blatant breach of the constitution.
Until the 1990s, the JSDF never operated abroad. With the onset of the First Gulf War, however, international pressure mounted (especially from the United States) for Japan to participate more fully in multilateral security measures and UN peacekeeping operations. In response, legislation was passed in 1992 that empowered Japanese troops to act as peacekeepers given five conditions: a standing ceasefire agreement, consent of the host nation, operational neutrality, the use of force for immediate self-defense only, and the withdrawal of the JSDF if any of the above conditions are violated. Since then, Japan has deployed its military following case-by-case approval of a “special measures law”. One such law was the Special Measures Law on Anti-Terrorism. Passed in 2006, it allowed Japan to provide logistical support to the United States and Coalition forces in the “War on Terror”. The law was repealed after opposition Democratic Party of Japan (DPJ) won a majority of seats in the upper house of parliament in the July 2007 election.
Pressure for revision rose during the premiership of Abe Shinzo, who resigned last summer amid scandal caused by lost pension records. Before leaving office Abe obtained passage of a law that calls for a national referendum on revision to be held as early as May 2010. Current Prime Minister Fukuda Yasuo takes a more reserved stance on the issue, but with a deadline set pressure has mounted on Japanese antimilitarists to organize a united front capable of blocking revision.
Opposition parties are not viable vehicles for doing so. They rarely win. Since its establishment in 1955, the LDP has enjoyed almost uninterrupted majority in both houses of the Diet, as the legislature is known. In moments when majority is untenable, the LDP constructs coalitions with weaker parties to maintain de facto leadership. Despite the LDP’s tendency toward rearmament, its politicians are consistently elected because they have historically proven themselves capable of managing the economy.
Opposition parties also have a reputation for abandoning their pacifism when politically convenient to do so. This happened to the former Japan Socialist Party, a longtime supporter of Article 9, which dropped its absolute stance on the issue to ally with the LDP in the 1990s. Likewise, the New Komeito Party, despite its Buddhist roots, has currently put aside the issue of pacifism to engage in coalition.
Things could be changing. The July 2007 election brought an unprecedented majority for the DPJ in the upper house of the Diet. Although the LDP still retains control of the premiership and the more powerful lower house, the DPJ has used its new position to block a variety of legislation, including the Special Measures Law on Anti-Terrorism. Yet, so far the constitution has not been a driving concern of the party, which seems more interested in advancing its position in Japanese politics.
Courts are similarly ineffectual. In general, the Japanese judiciary resigns itself from political debates. It is not an effective auditor of policy. This is especially true of Japan’s Supreme Court, which ruled years ago that the military issue was “too political” for review, even where the constitution is concerned. The Supreme Court also places tight restrictions on which cases can be considered as constitutional claims. As Craig Martin notes in a special for the Japan Times, “using the courts to review government deployment of troops is all but impossible.” This is ironic, considering that one of the strongest lobbies in support of Article 9 is the Japan Federation of Bar Associations.
Regardless, in recent years there has been an increase in lawsuits filed over the unconstitutionality of the JSDF. Usually these cases are dismissed without much thought. But every rule has its exceptions. Recently the Nagoya High Court chose to overturn its decision to dismiss such a case, ruling that the deployment of the JSDF to Afghanistan and Iraq is, indeed, unconstitutional. The court did not find, however, that any of the 1,100 plaintiffs were warranted compensation. Nor did it mandate that that the government consider withdrawal of troops. Although some peace activists herald the decision as historic, the ruling is unlikely to impact the practice of government.
With opposition parties and courts out of the picture, the burden falls on civil society organizations to pick up the slack. This is not a position for which they have been historically well equipped. Japan’s civic landscape is still very colored by its Confucian roots, which emphasize that individuals should put aside personal concerns to strive for the greater public good. In Japan, disputes are generally dealt with by seeking consensus; it is uncommon for people to wittingly assert their interests over others. As such, advocacy organizations are often regarded with suspicion as they, by definition, involve the declaration of one group’s beliefs against those of other members of society.
Regulatory barriers also exist. In order to register for corporate status, necessary to receive tax-deductible donations and other such benefits, civic groups must adhere to a somewhat arbitrary criterion of “public interest” determined by bureaucrats.
Recently Japan’s public sphere has opened somewhat, creating a space in which groups like Peace Boat can operate. With the puncture of the ‘bubble’ economy, citizens’ faith in their government has been shaken. As a result, fringe political issues such as remilitarization are attracting more attention, as evident in the growth of anti-war advocacy in recent years. The rise of the Internet has been especially significant. Many pro-Article 9 groups rely on websites to coordinate events and spread their message to potential supporters. Recent legal reforms have been influential as well. Inspired by volunteer outpour following the 1995 Kobe Earthquake, in 1998 the Diet passed the NPO Law that notably lowers the bar for corporate status.
Youth are more ambivalent on the issue of Article 9, because they do not harbor the same memories of postwar hardship as their elders. The LDP aims to capitalize on this divide; Abe’s law lowers the voting age from 20 to 18 for the referendum. For the peace movement to succeed, younger generations need to be convinced of the imperative of blocking revision. Organizations such as the Japanese Youth Association recognize this necessity and focus their advocacy on younger citizens.
Although Japan’s peace network is robust, it is fragmented. Anti-war organizations do not always collaborate with each other. The Article 9 Association, which boasts over 5,000 regional branches and the membership of several prominent intellectuals, acts as an umbrella organization for peace groups. Nevertheless, it did not endorse the Global Article 9 Conference because it was not carried out under its auspices.
Peace Boat should be commended for the Global Article 9 Conference. If Article 9 is to be retained, though, more action is needed. Anti-war activists are faced with many obstacles, including ineffective opposition parties, sheepish courts, and a historically restrictive public sphere. If they truly desire to influence government, they must unite and inspire others, especially youth. Otherwise, Article 9 as it stands today could become a thing of the past.