Exit Abe

Shinzo Abes resignation as Prime Minister can signify the fall of a reformer or the downfall of a pro-U.S. leader or both.

in Bangkok

THE sudden exit of 52-year-old Shinzo Abe as Japans Prime Minister has not only surprised political observers in the Asia-Pacific region but also raised questions about the fate of pro-United States leaders in countries it counts upon as allies.

Abes resignation on September 12 can, therefore, signify either the fall of a reformer in Japanese politics or the downfall of a pro-U.S. leader or both. Hardly in office for a year, after the emphatic tenure of Junichiro Koizumi as a charismatic, even if controversial, Prime Minister, Abe never really had the time and, as now proven, the political skill to carve out a niche role for himself. In the process, he did not mature as a reformist-successor to Koizumi. Nor did he manage to firm up the Japan-U.S. military alliance in ways that might have been expected of Koizumi, who had played a pivotal role in the updating of that relationship.

In effect, Abe stumbled, complaining that he could not secure the trust of the Japanese people for his reform agenda and foreign policy priorities. While announcing his resignation, he played down the political scandals behind the resignations by four Cabinet Ministers and the suicide by another. All these disasters were related to various forms of fund-raising episodes. Although he was not keen to portray himself as a poor judge of men and matters in selecting Cabinet Ministers, this aspect of his brief governance was noticed widely. Abe himself identified as a critical factor for his resignation his failure as a reformer rather than his parallel desire to extend the timeline for continued Japanese assistance to the U.S.-led anti-terror coalition in Afghanistan. However, the immediate context for his exit was the ground reality of gridlock between his administration and the House of Councillors, the upper chamber of the Diet or Parliament, over the U.S.-related controversy.

The upper chamber elections on July 29 produced a crisis that quickly ended his political career as Prime Minister. The Opposition, led by a resurgent Democratic Party of Japan (DPJ), won a decisive majority. And with the DPJ publicising its intention to block his U.S.-friendly gesture, his foreign policy citadel soon crumbled.

Experts were of the view that Abe did not really have to treat the DPJs stand as a veto that he could not overcome, given his coalitions comfortable majority in the more powerful House of Representatives, the lower chamber of the Diet. Yet, if he finally saw no point in trying to defy the DPJ inside and outside the Diet on this U.S.-related issue, the reason had much to do with the traditional opposition to Washington from sizable sections of the Japanese people.

Abes parting punch-line was that his continuance at the helm had, perhaps, become an obstacle to the passage of a proposed extension of a relevant special law. The original piece of this legislation, designed to provide an exception to the cardinal principle of pacifism under post-imperial Japans U.S.-imposed Constitution, will expire on November 1. Abes first move in his showdown with the DPJ over this law was to extend its validity. But when the Opposition refused to budge, he wanted to change course and introduce a Bill that would substitute the original proposal to extend the relevant current law.

At stake in the Abe-Opposition standoff was the Japanese maritime mission in the Indian Ocean area. Japanese ships, belonging to the Maritime Self-Defence Force or the navy with a pacifist name, render regular refuelling assistance to vessels of the U.S.-led coalition forces that operate in Afghanistan on what is described as a theatre of anti-terror war.

In a purely military calculus, such a logistical mission is non-lethal in substance and, therefore, compatible with Japans pacifist Constitution. However, a relevant question, relating to Abes troubles with the DPJ, is not so much the degree of pacifism at stake as his perceived agenda of keeping Japan on a U.S.-centric orbital path in international politics in perpetuity.

As considered by the Abe administration, an alternative to the proposed extension of the special law was a new measure that could alter the kind of materials that Japanese ships currently supply the U.S.-led vessels. The new proposal, not tabled in the Diet, was that Japan could perhaps lay a greater emphasis on supplying water to the U.S.-led forces rather than fuel. Abe administration circles felt that the slight shift from military logistics to military-related humanitarian help could salvage Japans commitment to the U.S.-led anti-terror war.

In the event, though, as the DPJ appeared unwilling to keep afloat Japans commitment of any kind in this domain, Abe quit. Why then did he project reforms, rather than the U.S.-friendly gesture, as the key policy area where he had failed?

In a sense, the pride of place in Abes reform agenda went to the political imperative of erasing or redefining Japans constitutional pacifism. That, in his view, would help Japan re-emerge as a normal military power and indeed as a normal state with unfettered sovereignty. An oft-stated argument in defence of this goal was that the removal of the pacifist principle would enable Tokyo to participate as an armed power in the United Nations peace-keeping operations around the world. The point made was that Japan could not only render military assistance to a benefactor like the U.S. but also play a purposeful role in peace operations under U.N. auspices.

The issue, by all accounts, became a divisive topic of debate among the Japanese people, a number of whom have still not forgotten that it was the U.S. that dropped two atom bombs on their country in the Second World War. Some Japanese pacifists do not also wish to abandon that principle for the sake of just the U.S. and the Tokyo-Washington alliance.

Another reform plank, which did not receive as much attention under the Abe administration as during the Koizumi era, was the restructuring of the Japanese economy, still the worlds second largest after that of the U.S. Part of the reason for Abes hesitation, compared with Koizumis enthusiasm, about economic reforms was traceable to the political stamina needed for carrying them forward.

A piece of conventional wisdom in Japanese politics is that informal coalitions of the changing kind, involving crafty politicians and powerful bureaucrats, have often stood in the way of both political and economic reforms. Political stamina of a high order is, therefore, required to break this mould. Koizumi displayed courage and stamina in calling and triumphantly winning a snap election over the issue of postal service reforms, which entailed the restructuring of the worlds largest financial outfit with an asset base of over $3 trillion. Now, Abes exit is proof, if that be needed, that he did not bring himself to take on the powerful coalitions opposed to economic reforms.

People read about

The political reform of pacifism is an issue that goes to the heart of the constituency of the entire people and not just the coalitions of politicians and civil servants. Another complicating factor in regard to pacifism is the total or relative absence of a powerful military-related constituency in todays Japan.

Unsurprisingly, therefore, Koizumi did not go the whole hog along the reform path and put the pacifism issue itself to the people. While his plan of comprehensive reforms did include a possible revision of pacifism as a constitutional principle, he chose to tread carefully.

He did take a calculated risk of enhancing military-to-military ties with the U.S. by agreeing to a phased promotion of inter-operability between the two forces. Koizumi also agreed to a realignment of the U.S. forces in Japan a diplomatic euphemism for raising the American firepower in the Asia-Pacific region.

If, however, Koizumi did not have to face the peoples wrath in the manner Abe had to during the upper house elections on July 29, political skill and charisma would alone provide the answer.

Douglas McArthur, often credited with imposing a pacifist Constitution on post-imperial Japan after the Second World War, is sometimes referred to as the American shogun. The factional leaders of the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP), which now rules Japan as the main constituent of a coalition, have also been seen as the political shoguns.

For Abe, who lacked political charisma and failed to impress the people because of his scandals-hit Cabinets, the pacifist question virtually turned into a U.S.-linked riddle. In effect, the puzzle was whether he was seeking to prop up U.S. President George W. Bush as a new American shogun on the Japanese political scene.

Yet, on balance, Abe succeeded in neighbourhood diplomacy in a manner that Koizumi hardly did or even endeavoured to do. Shortly after assuming office, Abe sought to mend political fences with China and the Republic of Korea. Above all, he also stayed away from the controversial Yasukuni Shrine in Tokyo, seen by Japans neighbours as its emblem of a possible militarist revival.

Not appreciated by China, though, was Abes initiative for the creation of a quadrilateral entity of four Asia-Pacific democracies the United States, Japan, India and Australia. For a variety of reasons, his initiative did not take off in the manner intended by the time he quit. By mid-September, Abes exit set the stage for a possible revival of old-style politics within the LDP ranks in a new context of political awareness about the need for issue-based rather than personalities-oriented public discourse.

Taro Aso, Foreign Minister under both the Koizumi and Abe administrations, was the first to throw the hat into the ring for the LDP leadership contest. But the race to succeed Abe looks like turning into a possible clash between a hawk and a dove.

Aso is a grandson of Shigeru Yoshida, who had agonised and firmly decided that post-imperial Japan should play second fiddle to the U.S. for strategic and tactical reasons. Asos own contribution to Japans foreign policy is the theoretical framework that prompted Abe to take the initiative of a four-power democratic forum.

Opposing Aso, by mid-September, was Yasuo Fukuda, who had worked as Chief Cabinet Secretary during Koizumis tenure at the top. Fukuda, son of a former Prime Minister, began projecting himself as a dove as opposed to Asos hawkish conservatism in domestic politics and willingness to carve out a new niche role for Japan on the global stage.

Pledging not to visit the Yasukuni Shrine and anger neighbours like China, Fukuda said his campaign for the Prime Ministers post would centre on a willingness to bring about careful changes in Japans current reform agenda as and when needed.

Regardless of the political profile of the person succeeding Abe, his sudden exit, within two days of pledging to stay the reform course, has once again placed Japan at a crossroads. Abes failure to carry forward the reform agenda of his mentor Koizumi has now emboldened the traditional power-brokers, who found themselves sidelined during the Koizumi era in particular.

But Japanese politicians may do well to feel the pulse of the people to ascertain whether their disillusionment with Abe was the result of his reform pledges or his failure to form a clean team in the first place.