Prime Minister Fumio Kishida delivered the keynote speech at last weekend’s Shangri-La Dialogue — and that’s a big deal.

The annual meeting, convening in-person for the first time in two years, is the opportunity for officials and experts to discuss and assess regional security, to get the lay of the land and lay down markers. Giving Kishida the Friday night speaking slot is an indication of the central role Japan now plays in regional security affairs. That may prompt a yawn among many readers but it is a remarkable transformation for a country that was long considered marginal in this arena.

Kishida is the second Japanese prime minister to claim the keynote slot. His predecessor was Shinzo Abe, who addressed the group in 2014. Not surprisingly, there is a straight line between the two speeches.

Abe began by reminding the audience of the single strategic space that stretches from Asia and the Pacific to the Indian Ocean. That made sense as Abe was the first leader to speak of an “Indo-Pacific” in a 2007 speech to the Indian Parliament. He identified the pursuit of better living standards and economic prosperity as the common mission for all in the room.

The then-prime minister insisted that respect for international law is the prerequisite for peace and prosperity. And he spoke first of the need to work with the the Association of Southeast Asian Nations to make this future a reality and noted that he had visited all 10 member states during his first year back in office as his country's leader. Abe then went on to make the usual points about cooperating with the U.S. and other allies, emphasizing all the while the importance of shouldering new responsibilities as a citizen in the world.

Kishida hit all the same notes. He too used the Indo-Pacific as the operative strategic frame. He noted that the region is the center of gravity of the global economy. He charged that some nations are turning their backs on international law, in Ukraine in particular, but elsewhere in the world too, pointing to the rejection of the 2016 Arbitral Tribunal ruling on the South China Sea. The prime minister also pledged to work closely with ASEAN and its members to build a stable and peaceful regional order.

I expected Kishida to go beyond Abe in his denunciation of China. In the eight years since Abe took the podium in Singapore, Beijing has leaned farther forward; its diplomacy has become more aggressive, its military posture has hardened and its behavior has become more provocative.

Silly me. Like Abe, Kishida refrained from calling out China by name. He warned of lawlessness in the East and South China seas and noted the importance of peace and stability in the Taiwan Strait. But he spoke in general terms, inferring rather than referring to Beijing. That reticence is a stark contrast with the remarks of U.S. Secretary of Defense Lloyd Austin, who the next day was much more blunt in blaming China for regional tension and insecurity, or, for that matter, comments a day later by Chinese Defense Minister Wei Fanghe, who was just as quick to point the finger at the U.S. for those problems.

One way to account for this pulling of punches is to note that Kishida is not a China hawk. He is, after all, head of the Kochikai, the faction within the ruling Liberal Democratic Party that has been historically characterized as more dovish and liberal on foreign policy. It is also seen as urban-oriented, responsive to business and white-collar interests. All those factors conspire to mute direct and pointed criticism of Beijing.

A second, more convincing, argument focuses not on Kishida, but on Abe. This analysis emphasizes the degree to which the center of gravity of Japanese foreign policy has moved to the right. In other words, the focus shouldn’t be on why Kishida pulled his punches, but why he was even in the ring.

An accurate understanding of Japanese foreign policy today requires an appreciation of how Abe shifted the context in which that policy is considered. During his tenure as prime minister, Abe — with help from China — transformed the way that the Japanese public looks at foreign relations and security. To use political science jargon, he moved the Overton window, the range of policies acceptable to mainstream opinion at a given time.

Bloomberg’s Isabel Reynolds made this point in an article in these pages last week, noting that Kishida benefited from Abe’s “realism,” especially since he is a dovish politician who doesn’t engender the fear of an extremely hard line.

Mike Green, one of the most incisive and experienced of U.S.-Japan hands, argues that Abe fixed the nation's "trajectory in a way that subsequent prime ministers are generally going to follow for years.” He noted that the thinking of Shigeru Yoshida, the country’s first postwar prime minister, had dominated Japanese policy. The Yoshida doctrine dictated that Japanese leaders should “focus on the economy, don't take big risks, don't militarize. Abe has changed that,” said Green. “From now on for 10, 20, 30 years, people will be referring to Abe's doctrine and Abe's approach.”

Contrast that transition with Kishida’s call for a “new capitalism.” For all the talk of a new paradigm, Tobias Harris, another sharp U.S.-Japan watcher, notes that the most recent documents — drafts of the grand vision for the new capitalism, and the 2022 basic policies on economic and fiscal management and reform, also released last week — reek of Abenomics. Harris, author of “The Iconoclast,” a crackerjack biography of Abe, credits Kishida, however, with “a genuine attempt to grapple with a significantly more challenging global environment.” I’m not so sure.

Revolutionary rhetoric notwithstanding, the economic vision guiding Japanese policy has remained consistent — from even before Abe. Abe tried to reframe the discussion with Abenomics, but he relied on fiscal stimulus and monetary easing — two time-tested LDP favorites. (The third arrow, “structural reform,” is another standby and invariably more talk than substance.) For all the talk of a paradigm shift, Kishida’s new capitalism is steeped in those as well. The novelty is supposed to be a commitment to the redistribution of wealth but that effort has been muted in the new policy documents and, even if adopted, seems consistent with Japan’s postwar economic approach.

There is one important overlap in the two conversations about national security and economic policy: an expansive definition of national security budgeting that allows the government to use it to advance economic objectives. Central to the transformation of Japan’s international role is increasing defense spending to 2% of gross domestic product. For example, the joint statement released after his summit with U.S. President Joe Biden last month noted that Kishida “stated his determination to fundamentally reinforce Japan's defense capabilities and secure substantial increase of its defense budget needed to effect it.”

But a former adviser to the National Security Secretariat explained that this will be achieved by the inclusion of items that are not strictly defense related. Kishida told the Nikkei last month that “I see this as a whole-of-country effort, not just the Defense Ministry. We're discussing not only the ministry's budget, but also what is necessary to protect people's lives and livelihoods.” The adviser interpreted: There will be expenditures in, say, the education ministry that will be included in those tallies.

As someone who believes in an expansive notion of national security, I approve of this approach. Japan and Kishida better be prepared for blowback from those in the U.S. (and here) that aren’t as charitable. With the spotlight, comes the heat.

Brad Glosserman is deputy director of and visiting professor at the Center for Rule-Making Strategies at Tama University as well as senior adviser (nonresident) at Pacific Forum. He is the author of "Peak Japan: The End of Great Ambitions" (Georgetown University Press, 2019).