Japan’s ruling party has made its choice — and it’s a stunning upset.
In an unusually hotly contested election, the Liberal Democratic Party, which has held power almost uninterrupted since World War II, was faced with the most varied slate of visions for its future ever seen. The field of nine candidates represented nearly every strand of politics the broad party holds. In the end, it chose Shigeru Ishiba. Now it must contend with what that means.
The party faces a credibility deficit that meant it had to skew radical. Outgoing leader Fumio Kishida will be remembered well on the international stage, but bombed domestically, failing to dispel long-running scandals not of his making, and unable to take credit for his victories. Candidates tainted by association, who in a “normal” leadership election might inherit his mantle, had little chance. The times demanded change.
The most obvious difference is cosmetic. Tropes about the revolving door of interchangeable Japanese leaders are little more than sniffy “they all look the same to me” small-mindedness, but nonetheless are far too prevalent.
But while Ishiba might be another Japanese man in his late 60s, he truly represents a different direction for the party. Ishiba is the LDP’s consummate outsider, a dissident who has spent his career refusing to acquiesce to orthodoxy.
There’s more to this than a new face to decorate posters for an impending general election. The choice for lawmakers and party members in the run-off election became very clear. In Sanae Takaichi, whom Ishiba upset in the final vote, the LDP would have returned to its most successful strategy of recent years, the policies of Shinzo Abe. Instead, it has opted for the opposite.
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It’s a jarring split with the past. The former defence minister — from 2007-2008 — has spent his recent career opposing the policies of Abe, after narrowly losing the decisive 2012 leadership race that paved the way for the latter’s historic spell in power.
In the intervening years, his opposition earned him few friends; indeed, he has a reputation for being a “traitor” due to his public criticism of party orthodoxy, and his history of having left the group once. More conscious of this than anyone, Ishiba has said that his only shot at becoming prime minister would be if “destiny” chose him with the party in disarray.
That fortune has come to pass. Untainted by scandals and popular with the electorate, he makes sense as a choice for the party. What he means for the country is less clear.
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Ishiba’s policies can be tough to nail down. In his recent book, Conservative Politician: My Policies, My Destiny, he describes himself as a “conservative liberal” in the mold of Tanzan Ishibashi, a short-lived but influential 1950s prime minister. Ishibashi advocated liberal positions and promoted equality for women; Ishiba too leans liberal on social positions, and has in the past expressed support for legalising same-sex marriage, though was circumspect at the hustings.
Given that Ishiba draws the comparison, it is interesting that Ishibashi was, later in his career, also known for opposition to many of the policies of his political rival Nobusuke Kishi — Abe’s grandfather. Both Kishi and Abe advocated for a strong Japan; Ishiba harbours few such ambitions.
Other comparisons to Ishibashi should give pause, however. Before World War II, he promoted “Small Japan-ism”, cautioning against imperialist expansion and arguing for utilitarian diplomacy. Ishiba says that this way of thinking is useful in dealing with today’s China, arguing for “win-win” diplomacy and seeming to advocate for a more neutral position between Beijing and Washington. That’s easier said than done given recent tensions following the killing of a Japanese schoolboy in Shenzhen.
Combined with his rhetoric of forming a more “equal” relationship with Japan’s security guarantor — including placing Japanese military training bases in the US — as well as his advocating for an Asian NATO, it seems likely he could cause tensions. Washington has for over a decade has become used to dealing with increasingly helpful Tokyo administrations.
The economy has long been seen as Ishiba’s weak point. Asked at a media conference on Friday about that perception, he demurred. “I have many inadequacies,” he said, but stressed the need to raise consumption, increase capital spending and thereby defeat deflation, calling for companies to bring production back to Japan.
Stubborn opposition to Abenomics is sometimes the only way to make sense of some of his contradictory policies. Nonetheless, he will continue the path of “normalising” monetary policy (something Takaichi opposed), which will disappoint the stock market — Nikkei futures plunged and the yen strengthened after his victory, after earlier optimism that Takaichi would triumph had boosted stocks and weakened the yen.
The rest of his plans are muddy, however; he speaks often of revitalising Japan’s regions, as if he’s the first to have this idea, but hasn’t followed through with specifics or any plan to stop the outflow of youth to cities.
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Ishiba faces a frantic few months. There’s a matter of a general election that the party will hope to call before Yoshihiko Noda, the former prime minister who was recently returned as new head of the largest opposition party, can gather his forces. There will be the challenge of dealing with a new US president, and handling a relationship with China that has suddenly become turbulent.
The country needs fast action on everything from energy policy to supply chains. He should be rifling through his opponents’ discarded notebooks for the best ideas to boost an economy that at last is breaking out of “lost decade” norms.
In his unexpected defeat of Takaichi, Ishiba emulated one of Ishibashi’s most famous victories, when he came from behind to beat Kishi in the 1956 leadership election. But after just two months, Ishibashi was out of office — and Kishi went on to define Japan’s future.
While that was due to ill health, Japanese leaders can have short terms for many reasons. Ishiba must now face off internal threats and restore both party unity and its popularity to avoid a similar fate.