Tokyo — Although newspapers around the world have played up the historic nature of Japan’s recent election, you probably wouldn’t have known it if you were in Tokyo on election day (August 30th, 2009). It was business as usual in the capital, and unlike America’s last election the only change in the air was fluctuating atmospheric pressure caused by the oncoming typhoon. Tokyo residents probably noticed the campaign posters and heard candidates giving rather dull speeches outside train stations, but the election was not exactly the first thing on people’s minds.
In fact, I spent part of election day inside Ikea with a group of people who weren’t sure if they would rather exercise their right to vote or continue shopping for furniture. Not only that, but on Saturday I was flipping through TV channels for hours in hopes of finding an election-eve news special. After falling asleep from exasperation and jet-lag I woke up and eventually found one TV special. Wait— I take that back. There was also a Michael Jackson birthday special and the Japan TV premier of the Star Wars prequels. But all jokes aside, it really seemed like politics was just a back story on the eve of Japan’s supposedly historic election, and the networks were basically running their normal line-up of programs.
In short, my initial impression of the election was that nobody really cared that Japan finally had an opportunity to tear down its one-party state by voting the conservative ruling party out of office. One of my Japanese friends described the election as a “bloodless revolution,” but if indeed there was a revolution it certainly didn’t feel like it. On the contrary, it seemed like I was the only person in town who was excited about the fact that Japan was on the verge of blossoming into a two-party democracy.
Was it voter apathy? Perhaps. Was it the fact that the election results were already a foregone conclusion? Possibly. But after talking with several people it became clear that Japan's ambivalent attitude toward the election was not a reflection of voter apathy; rather, it was a manifestation of people’s pessimism about the future of Japan and skepticism regarding the ability of politicians from either party to fix Japan’s myriad problems. In this regard, any excitement that people felt about casting out the ruling party was tempered by a deep sense of anxiety about the future.
Japan’s liberal opposition party (“the Democrats”) wound up winning by a landslide, but there are plenty of lingering doubts about the ability of the Democrats to get Japan back on track— much less fulfill their extravagant campaign promises. The Democrats’ campaign centered on putting more money in people’s pockets by cutting taxes, expanding the social safety net, and providing subsidies to families with children. And while voters were certainly happy about the prospect of receiving cash, the problem is that everyone has been wondering exactly how the Democrats will pay for it. Even more worrisome, however, is the possibility that these proposals will exacerbate Japan’s financial problems (i.e. decades of stagnant growth and the world’s highest debt/GDP ratio.
As a result, voters had mixed feelings about the election despite having finally found their voice after 55 years of nearly unbroken rule by a political party known as the LDP (in full, the “Liberal Democratic Party,” but don’t let the name fool you because they’re quite conservative). Prior to this election people were essentially resigned to the fact that they had no political voice. The presence of a strong ruling party served America's interests during the Cold War, and with America’s powerful backing the LDP didn’t need to worry about listening to the electorate or opening up the political process. After the Cold War the LDP somehow managed to survive through the 1990s and 2000s even though it had long since become a corrupt, inept, and clumsy dinosaur. All of that came to an end on August 30th, however.
Voters were eager to oust the ruling party because the LDP had simply proved incapable of governing—let alone guiding the country through challenging economic times or tackling Japan’s complicated societal problems. But at the same time people were also quite reluctant to support the Democrats, and that is why many voters—including my Ikea shopping companions—were still undecided on election day.
Indeed, many voters were so turned off by the Democrats that they registered their dissatisfaction by voting for minor parties that had little chance of winning (or alternatively, splitting their vote between these parties and the Democrats). Since most of the smaller parties are allied with the Democrats this strategy enabled voters to play a role in defeating the LDP while simultaneously expressing their dissatisfaction with the Democrats. Meanwhile, some people were so skeptical of the Democrats and disillusioned with Japanese politics that they decided to skip the voting process altogether (or at least claim they didn’t have time). Such is the state of Japan, where pessimism is pervasive and people still feel powerless to change a moribund political system.
Non-voters often justified their decision by saying that voting is pointless because Japanese politicians are all the same— corrupt, self-serving, and incapable of saving Japan from the mess it's in. Non-voters were also quick to note the common refrain (mentioned by voters and non-votes alike) that Democrats are no different than their rivals. Indeed, the two parties have a number of similarities with respect to their policies and modus operandi, and I got a sense that some people even considered the Democrats to be merely a re-incarnation of the LDP. There is also a commonly-held perception that the Democrats are just a bunch of former LDP politicians who decided to break ranks with the ruling party and join (or create) other parties only after realizing they couldn't attain power within the LDP. When Japanese people mention these opportunistic former LDP politicians they are usually referring to Ichiro Ozawa— the mastermind behind the Democrats' rise to power.
Ozawa’s visible presence alongside the Democrat’s candidate for prime minister (Yukio Hatoyama) was a mixed blessing. On one hand, Ozawa is a seasoned political veteran, and Ozawa’s familiarity with his former party reassured people that the Democrats had a heavy hitter who could take on the LDP. Even Ozawa's greatest detractors admit that he is a clever politician whose insider knowledge, tough demeanor, and hard-ball politicking was largely responsible for bringing the Democrats to power. But Ozawa also strikes people as a sleazy, overbearing, old-school politician who harbors the potential to stymie Mr. Hatoyama’s efforts to introduce a new style of politics to Japan. As such, Ozawa’s presence on the campaign trail made a lot of people hesitant about casting their vote for the Democrats.
Aside from Ozawa there are several other reasons why voters were reluctant to support the Democrats. First and foremost is the fact that Japanese people tend to be conservative, cautious, and fearful of change. There is also a deep respect for authority here that makes people averse to ousting ruling regimes. Many voters also thought the Democrats were inexperienced, unqualified, or even starry-eyed idealists— particularly in light of the party’s spend-thrift campaign platform, which to many people demonstrated that the Democrats aren’t attuned to the realities of governing a country. Although some of the Democrats’ spending proposals are clever and a few might even work, I think voters are aware that the Democrats’ platform is more of a band-aid than a cure to Japan’s problems, many of which can only be solved through wrenching social and cultural change.
Some of the Democrats’ policies are also downright foolish, such as Prime Minister-elect Hatoyama’s strident opposition to what he calls “American global capitalism.” That brings us to the Democrats’ next handicap— Mr. Hatoyama. Although he may be tuned-in with respect to Japan’s problems, Hatoyama is out of touch with global issues and naïve when it comes to diplomacy— as evidenced by the fact that his first widely-publicized essay outside Japan was a scathing criticism of Japan’s closest ally, America. Some observers contend that Hatoyama’s op-ed published in the New York Times on August 26th was an attempt to placate Japanese voters. But if that’s the case, why publish it in America? In any case, so far Hatoyama has demonstrated that he is prone to gaffes, contradictory, and not very charismatic— which is odd because he also seems to have a gift for articulating his ideas and connecting with people (perhaps the fact that he is a former engineering professor might explain his ability to inspire people while boring them to death).
Finally, the most common complaint I heard about the Democrats was that the party’s spending proposals are unrealistic or even fanciful. There were also concerns that the Democrats’ populist agenda reaffirmed—and possibly increased—people’s unrealistic expectations of unwavering financial support from the government. Yet ironically, despite widespread doubts about the Democrats’ ability to fund their spending proposals, the party’s focus on reducing the financial burden of consumers and families was an appealing message that brought voters to the polls. After all, the Democrats originally crafted their platform in response to public anxiety about pocket-book issues.
The Democrats’ campaign was also appealing because it symbolized a rejection of the LDP’s model of economic development, which called on individuals to sacrifice for the sake of national economic growth. While the electorate may have been willing to tolerate this economic model during Japan’s hyper-growth period (late 1950s-late 1980s), after nearly 20 years of economic stagnation voters are no longer willing to sacrifice themselves for a government made up of self-serving LDP politicians whose comfortable lifestyles have been supported by the hard labor of tax-paying citizens.
For a while now young people in particular have questioned the wisdom of buying into the LDP’s social contract, the terms of which required people to work like slaves for modest salaries in exchange for a worry-free retirement (i.e. extremely low-cost public health care and reliable pension payments). This grand social contract began to break down when Japan’s rapid economic growth came to a screeching halt around 1990, and experts have projected that it won’t be long before Japan is unable to fund its social security and health care systems. This is because Japan’s stagnant economic growth, coupled with a graying population and one of world’s lowest birthrates, means there won’t be enough tax-paying workers to fund Japan’s rising pension and health-care expenditures. Against this backdrop, it comes as no surprise that a pension scandal was the final straw which triggered the LDP’s demise.
In 2007 it was discovered that some people’s pensions had been short-changed after the government misplaced thousands of pension records, and the LDP’s bungled response to the problem reaffirmed suspicions that the party didn’t really care about Japanese citizens. The incident caused near panic and heightened people’s mistrust of the LDP. It also explains why the Democrats’ slogan, “People’s Livelihoods First,” was so successful during the election. Japanese voters have grown tired of politicians who prioritize economic growth at the expense of people’s livelihoods, and the Democrats promised to reverse this policy by spending more money on social programs, cutting taxes, and providing subsidies to families with children.
During the campaign LDP politicians attempted to criticize the Democrats by painting their spending proposals as fiscally irresponsible, but the problem with this assertion is that it played right into the Democrats’ hands. That is, the Democrats were able to successfully counter by saying that the reason why people have been struggling financially is because the LDP engaged in wasteful spending practices for decades.
Indeed, the phrase “big government” takes on a special meaning in Japan. Not only is the government intimately involved in people’s lives, but the LDP has funded scores of useless, inefficient, and costly government (or quasi-government) programs, organizations, and companies. The Democrats seized on this issue during the campaign by promising to cut wasteful government projects— beginning with the “manga palace,” an organization established by Taro Aso, the LDP prime minister who just presided over his party’s devastating defeat. Apparently Mr. Aso is big manga fan, and the manga palace was his pet project designed to promote Japanese animation overseas. For the Democrats, it was a gift that kept on giving during the campaign. Their criticism of Aso’s manga palace struck a chord with electorate and it became a buzzword that epitomized wasteful spending by the LDP.
In addition to criticizing wasteful spending the Democrats attacked the outsized influence of bureaucrats on the LDP. In particular, Democrats lambasted the LDP for yielding budgetary and other decision-making authority to the bureaucracy. Democrats also tapped into public opposition to the cozy relationship between the LDP, the bureaucracy, and industry— a long-standing triangular relationship that underpinned Japan’s rapid post-war economic growth. This love triangle was characterized by bureaucrats and politicians working closely together to award government contracts to favored companies in exchange for political support and campaign contributions, all of which greased the wheels of a revolving door that permitted retiring bureaucrats to get plum jobs as politicians, employees of government-affiliated organizations, and lobbyists for companies they had previously regulated (and vice-versa).
Democratic candidates did a great job of vocalizing the public’s deep-seated antipathy towards the bureaucracy and the LDP, both of which are perceived as elitist, out of touch with ordinary citizens, and solely interested in preserving their wealth and power at the expense of the populace. Democrats also argued that the LDP’s over-reliance on Japan’s conservative bureaucracy prevented the government from effectively responding to the country’s financial crisis. Accordingly, a central component of the Democrats’ platform was a promise to wrest control of the government not only from the LDP, but from the bureaucrats as well.
The Democrats hope to achieve this goal by sending more political appointees to oversee bureaucratic ministries and centralizing decision-making in the cabinet— particularly with regards to important policy, budgetary, and personnel issues that were previously decided by bureaucrats or ruling party members outside the cabinet. The Democrats have also promised to reduce the influence of the ruling party itself (now the Democrats) by granting the prime minister and his cabinet a degree of independence from the Democratic Party. Previously, LDP factions and rank-and-file members had a tremendous influence on the government, and this subjected important government decisions to vested interests and pork-barrel politics. The Democrats have rightly accused this system of bogging down the law-making process and have promised to introduce a new style of politics by reducing the influence of the ruling party.
Actually I was surprised by the relatively harsh rhetoric that Democratic candidates used when criticizing the bureaucracy during the campaign— particularly in light of Japan’s well-known aversion to public conflict and criticism. It seems that desperate times call for desperate measures, however. Voters were sick of the way their country had been governed and prepared to do whatever it took to overthrow the LDP.
As such, the reason why the LDP lost was not necessarily because people loved the Democrats, but because voters were disgusted with the LDP and keen to effectuate regime change (incidentally, “regime change” was the Democrats' core campaign mantra). Voters were pretty angry at the LDP for mismanaging their country, and they punished the ruling party by ousting several former cabinet members and even a former prime minister at the ballot box. Indeed, voters were so upset that one might say they were out for blood, and even Japan's conservative news media seemed delighted to offer all the latest reports of once-powerful politicians being toppled by younger, politically inexperienced Democrats— many of whom were women. Put bluntly, the electorate was eager to shake up Japan’s old-style political system, a clubby conservative establishment dominated by old men. Ring any bells?
Despite all the enthusiasm about changing the political status quo, the election was overshadowed by a nagging sense of pessimism, particularly with regard to the Democrats’ chances of turning around the economy. Nonetheless, voters knew that—at the very least—a Democratic victory would establish a two-party system in which political parties would have to compete for citizens’ votes by actually listening to their concerns. And since the LDP was on the verge of self-annihilation anyways, voters saw the Democrats as the only viable choice (or perhaps the lesser of two evils). Accordingly, the prevailing mood among Japanese voters was, “Let’s just give ‘em a shot…what do we have to lose anyways?”
And voters turned out in droves to do just that, despite having to wait in line for hours in some places. Ominously rising temperatures and intensifying winds from the approaching typhoon weren’t enough to prevent a record-breaking 70% voter turn-out from sweeping away the LDP, landing the Democrats in power, and transforming Japan into a two-party democracy. The LDP's last hope was that bad weather would work in their favor by suppressing voter turn-out, but by the time heavy rain started to pour, it was too late.
Interestingly, even though Japanese voters have just been empowered by this election it seems like they somehow don’t believe it yet. It’s as if everybody knows that something big just happened, but they still don’t know what to make of it. Perhaps their new-found power is just hard to get used to after years of having little say in the affairs of their country. Or maybe the electorate is simply not fully conscious of it yet. For instance, upon telling my friend that this election has given her more power than ever before, she simply replied in a matter-of-fact voice, “Really?”
In the aftermath of the election there has been speculation that the LDP will not survive such a crushing defeat. But even if this happens I'm hopeful that in its place a new conservative opposition party will be established consisting of hawks from both parties, thereby ensuring a two-party system. Indeed, not all of Japan’s Democrats are liberal, and some are even more hawkish the average LDP member. So perhaps the most intriguing question now is whether the election will trigger a political realignment and what form such a realignment would take.
In any case, what’s important is that the Japanese electorate has stood up and spoken its mind. Although the electorate may still be ambivalent, they have been empowered by this election and by the emergence of a two-party system. Going forward ordinary Japanese people will play an increasingly important role in their government. They will no longer be content to sit on the sidelines while a single political party runs their country into the ground.
So now I’m left wondering: after all this sinks in and people start to embrace their new-found power, will Japanese citizens become more upbeat about the future of their country?
I’m cautiously optimistic. How about you? Feel free to send comments via e-mail, my address is listed above.
