Adjusting to the new normal in Japanese politics

Japanese politics used to be relatively straightforward. For about the past decade, there was a system that, although nuanced and complex at times, was consistent. There were certain power players to watch, events to pay attention to and policymaking behaviors to monitor. If you knew what to look for, there was a modicum of predictability to it all.

But the upheaval of the past year has forced a fundamental rethinking of how political watchers must observe things in Tokyo.

This means understanding why the system was upended, identifying which of the old ways of doing business are changing and paying attention to each new development in political machinations.

From 2012 to 2024, a certain system had become entrenched in Tokyo that dictated the way politics would play out. The Liberal Democratic Party and junior coalition partner Komeito would enjoy election victory after victory because of relative stability atop the government, disarray among the opposition parties and the ruling coalition’s large, persistent and consistent vote-generating apparatuses.

The Shinzo Abe-led LDP allowed party factions to re-entrench themselves in the political system because he was able to leverage them as a means of managing intraparty issues and preserving his place as party president. Even after Abe’s departure, that factional system produced the next two prime ministers.

So for political watchers during that period, it simply became a matter of observing a few key factors. The first was polling data. As long as the administration and the party stayed well ahead of the opposition in public opinion, the ruling coalition was not in any real danger of losing out — the Japanese public’s preference for government stability and the coalition’s election machines would rule the day.

The second was factional dealings, since factions were so influential in Cabinet appointments and party elections. The number of factions-based appointments within a Cabinet signaled who was in the prime minister’s good graces or not, while also highlighting the potential compromises that may have been made among the LDP power brokers. Because factions generally voted as blocs, the key power players to watch were simply the faction heads themselves.

The third factor was the election calendar. The closer to an election, the more that politics influenced the administration’s behavior. The further way from an election, the freer the administration was to push new or controversial initiatives.

Then, there was a perfect storm in Japanese politics. The Unification Church and the political funds scandals drove down LDP polling numbers. Despite this, a weak opposition was unable to capitalize on the ruling party’s dwindling public opinion, in part because of a long gap between major elections.

Under normal circumstances, the LDP might have turned to another leader to stanch the bleeding and capitalize on the opposition’s weakness, but there was no standout LDP candidate who possessed the three attributes needed at the time: strong intraparty support; ability to excite the public; and no ties to the LDP’s recent scandals.

It was during this political dead space that then-Prime Minister Fumio Kishida decided to unravel the LDP’s factional system. His decision to dissolve his own faction and then push for the dismantlement of the faction once led by Shinzo Abe toppled the first domino that has seen this once all-important system within the LDP fall apart.

While Kishida’s move disrupted the LDP’s internal mechanism for doing business, it did little to win over the public.

Instead, it only paved the way for the surprise victory of Shigeru Ishiba in last year’s party presidential race. Ishiba was the public’s favorite pick, but without a solid system through which to manage internal party politics, his first Cabinet appointments and failure to produce a coordinated and viable policy direction failed to convince the public that he could turn things around.

As a result, when Ishiba called for a snap election soon after taking office, the LDP lost its long-standing majority in the Lower House of the parliament. What we have now is a rare minority government led by a party that is still restructuring.

Since the election, Ishiba has turned to the LDP headquarters to take on the extra workload in handling party affairs. This has elevated LDP Secretary-General Hiroshi Moriyama’s influence — turning him from a small-time faction leader to one of the most powerful people in the party. Moriyama will continue to be one to watch as Ishiba relies heavily upon him for keeping the intraparty wolves at bay.

Meanwhile, those LDP members who did not want to see Ishiba running the government have been making moves. They are seeking ways to replace the faction system with something different in name but similar in function.

Former Prime Minister Taro Aso has begun the “Aso cram school,” which will hold monthly meetings composed of former members of the Aso, Abe and Toshihiro Nikai factions. Ishiba’s main opponent in the last leadership race, Sanae Takaichi, who has served in several ministerial posts, is continuing her “study group” as well. Former LDP Secretary-General Toshimitsu Motegi recently filed to dissolve his faction, but will be looking for his own cohort as his prime ministerial aspirations remain.

These study groups should be seen as embryonic factions. There were practical functions that the factions accomplished that the LDP headquarters is simply not staffed to carry out, such as information dissemination, mentorship and candidate recruitment.

Shorn of the personnel or resources to fulfill those functions, party members will institute their own mechanisms. More likely than not, these study groups will become conduits for power brokers to form and grow voting blocs within the LDP, albeit with less formality than the factions that preceded them.

Finally, there is the issue of the LDP’s management of the minority government. Unchanged between now and the past decade was the importance of major elections, but the way that the legislative calendar must be handled now matters much more.

For example, there is an Upper House election set for this coming summer. This gives the LDP only the current parliamentary session to pass laws and run the government in a way that curries favor from the electorate. The challenge is that they must do so from a position where they cannot simply ram legislation through the parliament.

Instead, they must court opposition parties for support — something they have not had to do for more than a decade. At the same time, the opposition has every incentive to stall legislative processes in a bid to demonstrate the Ishiba administration’s ineffectiveness.

What does this all mean going forward?

First, most legislation will take longer to get passed. Negotiations with the opposition will not just be a formality but a necessity and there may be political motivations from opponents for delaying progress.

Second, the gap between what Ishiba says he will do and what he can actually implement will remain wide. Ishiba’s policy speeches should be considered as aspirational, rather than directive.

Finally, the dust has not yet settled and things will continue to evolve. There are unlikely to be major developments between now and the Upper House election this summer, but there will invariably be a series of smaller changes that modify the way the LDP operates.

All of this is making for a new normal in Japanese politics. After more than a decade of relative stability, the work for political watchers has become harder, but nothing like the challenges that those actually within the system are facing as they seek to navigate these uncharted and turbulent waters.