For the defense of Japan

After eight months of deliberations, the prime minister's defense ministry reform council, hastily convened after a series of scandals rocked the defense ministry in 2007, has released its final report on reforming the ministry.

The report is available for download here.


In the report, the council sought to address two issues. First, it investigated various institutional failures in the defense ministry and the Self-Defense Forces and recommended fixes. Second, it studied the organization of the ministry and the SDF and offered recommendations for enhancing the ability of both to defend Japan.

The former is ostensibly the reason for this council's existence, as demonstrated by the list of cases it investigated: the scandal surrounding MSDF refueling mission in the Indian Ocean, in which the JSDF and the defense ministry paid less than close attention to how the US was using fuel provided by Japan; information leaks by JSDF members, especially the Aegis leak; the Atago incident, in which a Japanese warship collided with a fishing vessel; and the biggest scandal of all, corrupt dealings by Moriya Takemasa, the disgraced former vice defense minister.

To address these failings, the council offered three broad principles for reform: (1) total adherence to rules; (2) the establishment of professionalism; and (3) changing the bureaucratic culture to emphasize the execution of duties.

Under the first heading, the report admonishes senior officials to set an example for their subordinates by following the rules. It then proposes increasing workplace education so that staff will spontaneously follow the rules. It also proposes strengthening laws governing the protection of classified information. In regard to procurement, it proposes introducing greater transparency and competition into the procurement process and more direct contracts with foreign arms makers (presumably side-stepping the trading companies that currently serve as middle men for the defense ministry).

Interestingly, buried in this section is a discussion of the ministry's inspector general (IG) office, which was created with little fanfare in September 2007. As of yet, however, the IG's purpose in the ministry appears unclear.

Having spent a summer in the inspector general's office of the US Department of Defense, I have an appreciation of the role played by inspectors general in inspecting, uncovering, and punishing cases of "fraud, waste, and abuse." The DoD IG serves under the secretary of defense but plays an independent role in policing the department and often works with members of Congress interested and concerned about how the defense establishment uses (or misuses) taxpayer dollars. The US government's IGs, including cabinet department IGs and the Government Accountability Office (GAO), play an important role in creating transparent government in the US, making it easier for the public and elected representatives to hold the government accountable for its misdeeds.

The report calls for the strengthening of the newly created IG office by giving it the power to conduct surprise inspections. That's a start, but it's not nearly enough. The IG needs to be independent and needs to be free to communicate with legislators. Whistleblowers need to be protected so that they can report to the IG without fear of reprisal. Strengthening the IG should be at the center of this reform package. A strong, competent IG would do more to stop corruption in the ministry than centuries worth of workplace education about obeying the ministry's regulations, because an IG is founded on the idea that wrongdoing will occur and standing agencies should be in place to ferret out and punish perpetrators quickly.

It's fine to call for more professionalization in the defense establishment. Considering the sordid tales of JSDF members compromising classified information by using work computers to trade pornography, it is clear that Japan's defense establishment is woefully lacking in professionalism. But moral injunctions and more education will not fix the ministry's problems.

Nor, for that matter, will Defense Minister Ishiba Shigeru's pet proposal of mixing JSDF members and civilian bureaucrats in the ministry's bureaus, which constitutes the second section of recommendations.

The second section addresses national strategymaking in addition to deficiencies in the defense ministry. The report's central proposal is that the role of the Kantei in strategymaking must be strengthened in order to better cope with the changing regional and global environment. The council made a number of recommendations to this end: drafting a national strategy, instituting regular meetings among the foreign minister, the defense minister, and the chief cabinet secretary to discuss national security, reviewing the defense procurement process, enhancing the system of prime ministerial advisers, and strengthening the chief cabinet secretary's foreign and defense policy staff. This section also includes proposals for strengthening the defense ministry's defense council, such as the inclusion of the chiefs of the joint staff office and the three services in the council's deliberations. It calls for the expansion of the ministry's policy bureau and enabling JSDF officers to serve in civilian bureaus in positions below vice-director. In expanding the policy bureau, it calls for enhancing intelligence and analysis skills.

It is unclear if and when these proposals will be implemented, but one thing is certain: this report punted on the issue that prompted the reform council in the first place, ministerial corruption, of which Mr. Moriya is but the most prominent example. While the report mentions the need to review the defense procurement process, the trading companies that are a major source for waste and corruption are not mentioned whatsoever. The details of procurement reform are left for another time, suggesting that they won't be addressed at all. It is encouraging that the government recognizes that it simply wasn't enough to call the former defense agency a ministry, that making it a proper ministry means instituting major changes in the ministry's mindset and ministerial culture. But more is needed, starting with, as the report suggests, a strategic review (perhaps something akin to France's recent white paper on defense). What are Japan's primary national security goals, and what capabilities does the defense establishment need to meet them? A discussion must proceed from these fundamental questions, starting from scratch and looking at the region and the world in specific terms, instead of relying on vague terms like "uncertainty."

Given that the defense budget will continue to fall, it is imperative that both the Japanese government think seriously about how it spends its increasingly limited defense appropriations. Funds are too limited and the defense of Japan too important to tolerate plans that line the pockets of the trading companies while doing little to enhance mational security.

In this regard, I must issue a mea culpa to US Ambassador J. Thomas Schieffer, who I criticized in this post for telling Japan it should spend more on defense. Thanks to a link from Shisaku, I was able to read the whole speech, which is less about how much Japan spends than the process by which Japan decides what to spend. The ambassador called for Japan to be smarter about procurement, to cooperate more with the US on developing weapons systems. In short, he calls for a bilateral version of the process I called for above: "...We must regularly engage in strategic dialogue to define our mutual goals. From there we must analyze our respective strengths and maximize productivity and savings. No one benefits when we take separate paths to reach the same point. Creativity and innovation are the byproducts of collaboration and teamwork." Press reports that focused on the sum of expenditures missed the point of the speech. I wholeheartedly support the ambassador's call for better defense procurement processes in both countries.

From this reform council's report, however, it seems that Ambassador Schieffer's call fell on deaf ears. The Japanese government has a long way to go before it can be said that the government is making procurement decisions on the basis of national defense instead of the enrichment of private interests.

Ishiba remains the scourge of the bureaucrats

With the fight over the nomination of Muto Toshiro taking center stage, opposition calls for Defense Minister Ishiba Shigeru to resign due to the Atago incident appear to have receded, leaving Mr. Ishiba to proceed with his efforts to clean up the Defense Ministry.

The latest piece of that effort is his project team to "promote integrated procurement reform." This group's purpose is radical change in the defense procurement process with the aim of eliminating the pernicious influence of the defense trading companies, which results in untold waste and inefficiency in Japanese defense spending. Last year's scandal implicating Moriya Takemasa provided a mere glimpse at the problem.

Asahi reports that the team's final report, due at the end of the month, will make several changes to defense procurement effective at the start of Fiscal Year 2009, including the creation of a supervisory group that will monitor the activities of trading companies in relation to arms imports and the expansion of direct links to defense contractors in the US (for example).

Any Japanese politician who claims to be serious about national security should be wholly supportive of Mr. Ishiba's efforts at the very least, and should be clamoring for more assiduous oversight from the Diet and ideally an intra-ministerial inspector general. The combination of a changing security environment and tightening budgets mean that the Japanese people and their elected representatives should not tolerate the gross misuse of public funds that is the result of the trading company-dependent procurement process. They should demand transparency, efficiency, and accountable, considering national defense is at stake.

Is that really too much to ask?

The end is near

If you haven't read it yet, go read MTC's account of the last days of "Tanakaism."

The DPJ reorients itself

The DPJ, in a move that suggests that the shift I sensed in this post may be becoming a clear trend, has announced that it will submit a bill in the regular Diet session that proposes the creation of a "consumer ombudsman." The DPJ's plan envisions an independent official, appointed not by the government but by consensus of the Diet, who will take over from the Cabinet Office's Kokumin Seikatsu kyoku and the Fair Trade Commission to unify the handling of consumer complaints to the government.

This is the kind of proposal I've been waiting for from the DPJ. It goes beyond griping about the LDP's malfeasance and actually proposes a practical, constructive solution to a problem. It emphasizes the importance of independent, (hopefully) apolitical oversight of the government, and places the concerns of the people first.

I wonder the extent to which the DPJ's new approach — has anyone heard the DPJ talk about farm subsidies lately? — is a function of the growing appreciation that it has to reclaim the mantle of the party of urban Japan in order to succeed in a general election. Note that if an election is held this year, the discrepancy of the value of a vote in the least populous district (Tokushima-1) will be only 2.226 times more valuable than the value of a vote in the most populous district (Tokyo-6). That is a slight increase over last year (2.202), but it is still a considerable difference from the vast discrepancy in Upper House voting, in which a vote in rural Tottori prefecture is worth 4.883 times the value of a vote in Kanagawa prefecture.

The emphasis on responsible governance for the Japanese people is, I think, a wise approach to take for whatever reason, and I hope we'll see more of it.

"The state is less dependable than a convenience store"

Masuzoe Yoichi, minister of health, labor, and welfare and the LDP's resident political scientist, has an essay in the December issue of Chuo Koron in which he details the crisis of confidence in the Japanese state and calls for systemic change that will restore the confidence of the people in their government.

The title of his article — which I've borrowed for the title of this post — is based on the idea that somehow banks, post offices, and convenience stores manage to handle the transfer of funds without problems, but the national and local governments cannot transfer social security payments without embezzlement. In part one, he pins the blame squarely on bureaucrats.

"From old it is said, 'Kanson minpi [bureaucrats exalted, the people despised],' with the hidden premise being that bureaucrats are steadfast and the people terrible. However, now it is the exact opposite of that. Therefore, it is basically good to entrust "to the people that which the people can do."

In the second part, he discusses how the scandal-ridden Social Insurance Agency — part of his ministerial ambit — cultivates a culture of unaccountability for lower officials. As he writes, "In other words, since there are no orders from above and a lack of scrupulous oversight, it happens anyone can do whatever they want. The result is that this invites the occurrence of scandals like the sloppy management of records and embezzlement." He even goes so far as to suggest that the contemporary bureaucracy, as a system of irresponsibility, is "completely the same as the Japanese Imperial Army."

His solution is the implementation of a top-down system in which responsibility and accountability are clear.

In addition, he suggests that other checks on administration are needed, pointing to the example of the ombudsmen in Scandinavian countries. And he suggests that rather than viewing the nejire kokkai as a bad thing, it might be a good thing for accountability in Japanese governance. (Indeed, it was for this very reason that I think that a grand coalition would be a bad thing.)

In the third part, he explores the Japanese policy agenda, looking at the implications of the faulty social welfare system for the Japanese economy as a whole. He argues that consumer spending is low due to fears of inadequate care in old age. Ergo, if the Japanese government can alleviate insecurities about retirement, it can get people to spend more, jump-starting the Japanese economy. He suggests that an increase in the consumption tax rate from 5 to 10% is necessary, with the difference alloted to maintaining the social welfare system. Accordingly, the more people the spend, the better funded the welfare system. (This proposal strikes me as too good to be true — and it's not entirely clear to me why people wouldn't react to a consumption tax hike by spending less.)

Mr. Masuzoe concludes by calling for radical restructuring of Japanese sub-national governance, reorganizing prefectures into larger regions with radical subsidiarity, reducing the central government to nothing more than the cabinet office and the foreign, defense, justice, and finance ministries.

Mr. Masuzoe's heart is in the right place, so to speak. In particular, longtime readers of this blog will be aware of my belief in the importance of systems of accountability both inside and outside of government. Mr. Masuzoe clearly recognizes that Japan is missing the institutional checks present in other democracies that ferret out and punish wrongdoing by legislators and bureaucrats. Its courts are weak, its prosecutors face a standard of evidence that keeps many cases from going to trial, its agencies lack ombudsmen and inspectors general, its journalists and media outlets have all-too-cozy relationships with those in power (without a tradition of investigative journalism), and the political parties and the Diet, thanks to the LDP's nearly uninterrupted hold on power, are enablers of bureaucratic incompetence and corruption rather than a check on administrative abuses. NGOs are a recent arrival, and many depend on the government for funding.

In other words, this is where Mr. Masuzoe and other reformers should focus their attention. Regular alternation of ruling parties will help too, of course, but barring that reformers should push for the creation of accountability systems throughout the Japanese government.

Meanwhile regional subsidiarity strikes me as a scheme that would, if anything, ensure that certain rural regions that are already dying would have even less chance of reversing their fortunes. As MTC notes in the post linked to above, the central bureaucracy has much to answer for as far as the decimation of the Japanese countryside is concerned. But it is not altogether clear to me how removing impoverished regions from the hands of the central government and putting them into the hands of cash-strapped regional governments will make them any more likely to thrive. As a matter of principle, subsidiarity is great — after all, as students of the American progressive movement know, states can be the laboratories of democracy. But moving government closer to the people is no guarantee of good governance; I think it's just as likely that the mega-regional governments in Mr. Masuzoe's scheme could be just as prone to profligacy and venality as Tokyo has been.

In short, I agree with Mr. Masuzoe's diagnosis, but I don't think he paid nearly enough attention to the cure.

A fitting end?

In the midst of Mr. Abe's resignation, Mainichi reports that Shukan Gendai has been investigating reports of tax evasion by Mr. Abe, who allegedly transferred his 2.5 billion yen inheritance from his father to his political organization without paying taxes.

While there are plenty of reasons for Mr. Abe's departure, it would be fitting if the timing of his resignation was the result of fears that he too would be implicated in a political funds scandal, joining, well, most of the members of his cabinets.

The beginning of divided government

The DPJ, now calling the shots on the administration of the Upper House, has announced the distribution of the chairmanships of Upper House committees, and in a gesture that strikes me as magnanimous, has given the chairmanship of the Budget Committee to the LDP. The LDP has named Konoike Yoshitada to fill the post.

While the House of Representatives has ultimate responsibility for the budget, it is important to remember that the budget committee in both houses is the main forum for questioning the government on all manner of subjects. With the LDP holding the chairmanship, it will have the power to end questioning and send the budget bill to the whole house.

As Asahi emphasizes in an article today (not online), Japan is in for an experiment in divided government akin to that seen in France and the US. I'm not sure if anyone really knows what will happen from Monday on: will the DPJ wield its new powers forcefully, or will it hold back, act cooperatively and let the government destroy itself? Inter-party cooperation is by no means a new phenomenon in Japanese politics, but the process is about to be turned inside-out. Whereas cooperation previously was the result of the LDP's trying to include opposition parties in the policy making process through compromises behind closed doors, cooperation and competition will now take place publicly, along the institutional battle lines between Upper House, Lower House, and government.

Indeed, Asahi's editorial today views the start of the special Diet session as the first act of a new stage of political reform.

"If there is misgovernment, the majority should be exchanged, and administration should change hands," writes Asahi. "This tension has activated Japanese democracy. This debate has proceeded from the introduction of single-seat electoral districts and the reorganization of political parties. With the reversal of the majority in the Upper House, the power to reject the governing coalition's bills has been given to the opposition. Without the opposition's cooperation, the government cannot be administered; the opposition bears this responsibility. This means that the circumstances coming into being should also be called 'half change of government.'"

Whether the experiment in divided government will be long-lived remains to be seen. The DPJ will continue to push for an early dissolution of the House of Representatives and a general election, and with the floodgates open on reports of corrupt practices by members of the government and LDP executives, the DPJ will have a lot of help from the media. The Nelson Report, citing the analysis of Peter Ennis of The Oriental Economist, suggests that Mr. Abe could be gone by November and that the anti-terror special measures law will be allowed to expire, giving the DPJ a not-inconsiderable victory.

Meanwhile, the Yosano-Aso team may have ignited a civil war in the LDP by inviting Mr. Hiranuma back to the party. Undoubtedly the younger members of the LDP can see the writing on the wall for their political careers.

It is unclear how much longer this turmoil in the political system will last, but the pressure for change appears to be swelling relentlessly; when all is said and done, Japan may find itself with a more transparent, dynamic political system.

Groundhog day

I've said it before and I'll say it again (and again): there is not an "agriculture expert" in the LDP who has clean hands.

With the resignation of Endo Takehiko as minister of agriculture, forestry, and fisheries one week into Prime Minister Abe's "re-challenge" cabinet, we're once again given a look at the reality of LDP governance, at least as far as agricultural policy is concerned. To be an LDP agricultural "expert" means to have inappropriate ties with the groups regulated by MAFF.

The new minister will be Wakabayashi Masatoshi, the environment minister, but I can't help but wonder if the government would be better off finding a younger member with no agricultural experience whatsoever — someone who has never waded through a rice paddy or seen a cow. Four ministers in the span of the year means that the bureaucracy is calling the shots on agricultural policy anyway, so the government might as well appoint someone whose purpose will be nothing more than signing off on what the bureaucrats do.

The government may yet pay a heavy price for the latest scandal, not least in popularity. But will the censure motion reportedly under consideration by the DPJ make any difference? As Yamaoka Kenji, DPJ kokutai chairman, said, "It is not a problem of one minister. It is the structure of collusion between politicians, bureaucrats, and businesses." Mr. Yamaoka speaks of using investigative powers that come with the control of the Upper House to expose the whole mess, which is fine — but the opposition shouldn't waste its time with a symbolic censure motion.

Doing the Abe shuffle

Prime Minister Abe has reportedly committed to executing a cabinet and party leadership reshuffle by the end of August, following his summer travels to India, Indonesia, and Malaysia.

This despite pressure from within the party to act quickly, with former Prime Minister Mori suggesting that waiting too long for a reshuffle would be a "body blow" to the Abe cabinet. (If waiting too long to reshuffle would be a body blow, what exactly does one call the impact of completely ignoring the results of a historic election defeat?)

Meanwhile, Prime Minister Abe has insisted that he intends to once again reject cabinet personnel decisions based on factional recommendations, despite having been told by party elders that his next cabinet ought to be more representative, including members of all factions. Instead it seems he continue to rely on those he feels he can trust, like Mr. Aso for example. The decline of the LDP's factions and the emergence of Kantei-centered policy making, while having been exaggerated somewhat, has been hailed as a largely beneficial shift in Japanese governance, supposedly signaling the rise of government according to national rather than sectional interests. There is much to be said for this argument. But, at the same time, the Abe Cabinet has been instructive in the vices of Kantei government and the neglected virtues of Habatsu government.

While not accountable to the people in any sort of liberal-democratic sense, the power of the factions within the LDP ensured that the prime minister was responsible to somebody, that even if the prime minister was incapable of seeing the errors of his ways there were plenty of people within the party waiting to interject, criticizing the premier (constructively or otherwise) in the hope of changing the government's course of action. There was feedback, in other words. In the week since the election, however, we have learned the extent to which not only is Mr. Abe not accountable to anybody, he's also not getting serious feedback from anyone either. Like his buddy George, Mr. Abe seems to be in an echo chamber of his own making.

I'm certainly not hankering for the golden age of the factions, but at the same time, in the short term a greater role for the factions would minimize the destructiveness of Abe's obliviousness, ensuring that the government pays some attention to the needs of the Japanese people, and easing the transition to the post-Abe era. Because the post-Abe era is coming, sooner or later. The signs continue to mount. In this week's Shukan Bunshun Matsuzoe Yoichi, the top vote-getter on the LDP's PR list last week, criticizes Abe for his response to the election. He writes: "Mr. Abe, it must be remembered, was selected as president by LDP party members, but that does not necessarily mean he was selected by the people. The two-thirds majority of seats in the House of Representatives were taken by former Prime Minister Koizumi, not Mr. Abe. Therefore, it is essential that he takes the people's judgment humbly and listens carefully." He then suggests that he thinks that the responsibility is Mr. Abe's, and that he should resign. (Mr. Matsuzoe's article follows an article by Mr. Ishiba in which he reiterates his thinking on why the prime minister should go.)

Of course, even if Mr. Abe goes, and soon, the LDP is in trouble, due to the legacy of decades of corrupt practices and unresponsive government that have been brought to the forefront of public attention by the resignation and suicide of four members of Mr. Abe's cabinet. Is there anyone among the older generation of LDP leaders who has clean hands? As Tahara Soichiro, a journalist, notes in an article in Liberal Time:

Office expenses are a convenient wallet that can only be used by politicians. It is only office expenses because it is not necessary to attach receipts. Therefore, for not a few LDP politicians, a very convenient way of using bad money is designating it under the pretense of office expenses. The four ministers, while facing the doubts and anger of the people, were resolute in rejecting the airing of their receipts, for the reason that if their receipts for office expenses were made public, it would cause a troublesome situation for the whole LDP...

When supporters and voters come from the home district, the member must treat them to a meal. However, if we look beneath the surface, this amounts to a violation of the Public Office Election Law. It is for this reason that office expenses are appropriated. It is an exceedingly simple structure...

For voters, once, 'roads are built, bridges are built, community centers are built' — large projects were undertaken. However, now, under policies advocating fiscal reform, large public works could not be undertaken. The remnant of such politics is meal expenses."

So the question I asked regarding Mr. Akagi's appointment is relevant for every cabinet position. Is there a cabinet-capable LDP politician without inappropriate conduct buried in his closet?

Even with a new cabinet, therefore, Abe will not escape from harm's way. He will still find himself dogged by scandals, forced to explain and apologize for his ministers' activities, and unable to earn the confidence of the people.

No surprises here

Akagi Norihiko, the late Matsuoka Toshikatsu's successor as minister of agriculture, forestry, and fisheries, has resigned after two scandal-tainted months in the cabinet.

His resignation in and of itself is not newsworthy. It is inconceivable that he would remain in the cabinet given that he has spent his entire tenure fending off corruption charges and in general not answering questions, whether about financial improprieties or the bandages on his face.

What is interesting, however, is the response within the LDP to his departure. An article in Asahi on Akagi's resignation suggests that more than half the party's members think it "natural" that he resign. Apparently they think his scandals are a major reason explaining why the LDP lost big in the Upper House elections.

Now, there is no question that Akagi's follies were part of the story of the election, but would the LDP have somehow done better had he resigned earlier? I strongly doubt it. His improprieties were symptoms of widespread malfeasance in the LDP, but one need not look far for other, more egregious examples (this was my initial reaction to Akagi's appointment, in fact). Moreover, I suspect that as far as corruption is concerned, public distrust of politicians and bureaucrats is deep and goes back years, even decades; more recent examples serve merely to keep the fire of public disgust burning strongly.

I suspect that whoever the government finds to replace Akagi, he will likely have the same fiscal improprieties tucked away in his closet, especially if he is an "agricultural expert."

Viva the lifestyle restoration!

Jun Okumura gives a thorough fisking to a BBC article that completely misses what's actually going on in this election campaign. In fact, the article seems to be little more than a bundle of cliches strung together with, as Jun notes, a few illustrative anecdotes.

All the BBC had to do to get this story right was look at the Yomiuri Shimbun's editorial today. Yomiuri complained, once again, about the supposed inadequacies of the national debate leading up to the Upper House elections. About the constitution, Yomiuri asks in its headline, "Why are we not debating the country's image in the future?"

The fact that this election hasn't been about the constitution, despite Prime Minister Abe's solemn declaration in January to make the election about revision, actually gives me hope for the future of Japanese democracy. In opinion poll after opinion poll, in every newspaper, the Japanese people have said "Thanks, but no thanks — we would rather talk about our pensions, education, and health care systems."

No one is spared Yomiuri's wrath for this intervention of the people's mundane concerns into an election that ought to be about the figure cut by Japan on the international stage. Prime Minister Abe? "Prime Minister Abe, who floated the idea of 'getting rid of the postwar regime,' simultaneously declared, 'constitution revision is the point of contention of the Upper House election.' The promise at the start clearly expressed the aim of proposing constitution revision to the Diet in 2010. But during the election campaign, it appears there has been a weakening of his attitude." Ozawa and the DPJ? "We also have doubts about the stance of the DPJ President Ozawa," due to his history of taking a firm stand in favor of constitution revision in the past but now backing away because of political opportunism (i.e., the desire to see power in the Upper House change hands).

It seems that the only party talking about constitution revision — judging from their campaigning outside the station on my way home tonight — is the Japan Communist Party, and obviously they are resolutely opposed to the idea.

Let me say it again: I think it's a cause for hope that the parties, especially the LDP, have been forced, in no small part due to the DPJ's questioning in the Diet, to bend to the will of the people and address the issues that are the source of widespread insecurity among the Japanese people. An election based on constitution revision, an abstract matter far removed from the lives of 127 million Japanese, would be a travesty, a sign of the moral bankruptcy of the political class in the face of mounting challenges. It's not entirely clear to me why an election grounded in strong doubts about political corruption and government failures in Tokyo is somehow removed from a consideration of Japan's "image in the future." Arguably, it has more to do with how Japan will be governed over the coming decades; the idea of Japan's being a regional or a world power with the aging Japanese public living in fear that they won't be properly cared for in their old age and with an attenuated LDP trying to hold power at all costs is laughable.

And so with nine days to the election, the DPJ has gotten its wish: this is a lifestyle election. Will the Japanese people take this golden opportunity and actually turn out to punish the government? And if given a stake in the leadership of the Upper House, will the DPJ be able to parlay that into a serious run for control of the Lower House?

When in doubt, talk about how to make Japan great again

"Now the vote likely will pivot on scandal and mismanagement of the country's enormous pension system. This is a shame. The election really should be about Mr. Abe's vision for a more activist international role for Japan."

So says Michael Auslin, AEI's newest Japan scholar, whom I previously discussed in this post, in which I discussed his unquestioning acceptance of Prime Minister Abe's "beautiful country" rhetoric.

Compared to Auslin's latest — an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal (available free here) — the earlier article was a work of inspired genius.

Let's start with the above quote. Who is Michael Auslin — or Abe Shinzo, for the matter — to tell the Japanese people what the election should be about? Why is it a shame that the Japanese people are concerned about the responsiveness of the government to their very real quality of life concerns? Why should the voters ignore the government's very real indifference to their concerns and vote on the basis of some abstract concern about Japan's position in the world? And why does Auslin think that the Japanese people are just hankering for Japan to play a more significant global role as a US ally?

Once again, Auslin buys the rhetoric emanating from Tokyo: "Despite scandal and missteps, they might find that it is Mr. Abe who offers the most compelling vision of their country's role in the world."

What is Mr. Abe's vision for Japan in the world, and how does Mr. Abe plan to achieve it without wide-scale reform of how Japan is governed? Japan, like Italy, Germany and other continental European countries, is trying to manage the difficult task of coping with an aging and shrinking population while at the same time transforming the economy to ensure survival and prosperity in a globalized economy. But Auslin believes none of the matters. All that matters are the superficial symbols of national power and Japan's rhetorical commitment to the US, not the long-term future of Japan as a great power.

Who cares if swathes of the country are in terminal decline? Who cares if people cannot be certain that care for the elderly will be sufficient to handle the aging of baby boomers? Who cares if corruption and incompetence have shaken public trust in nearly every sector of Japanese life? Why should the election be decided based on these mundane issues when the Japanese people can use the election to acclaim Abe Shinzo as the leader who will make Japan great beautiful again!

The US should not want an ally that is incapable of responsible governance and unable to cope with the challenges that its society will face in the coming decade. And it should not want an ally that comes running whenever the US calls. It should want a country that is confident, well-governed, and a model to its neighbors, one that is a good-faith partner that honors its commitments to its allies, but only makes those commitments after an open discussion as to whether doing so is in its interests.

Before Japan can begin talking about leading in the region, it needs to sort out its numerous domestic governance issues. That is the criteria by which to judge Prime Minister Abe. In his nine months in office, what has he done to transform how the country is governed? Auslin does not address that question; the national referendum bill and the government's stated intention to buy F-22s are apparently all that matter.

Calling out the generalissimo

The DPJ has issued another campaign flier featuring a comic strip that tells the story of how the Abe government learned of disappearing pension payments in December 2006 and covered it up until questioned by DPJ Diet members in May.

Here is the last panel:


This panel asks, "For what purpose is the election postponed?" In the foreground, Abe says, "The Diet session was extended in order to pass the administrative reform bill," to which the DPJ bluebird replies, "What administrative reform law! Didn't you just make a state-managed 'amakudari temporary staffing company [haken kaisha]?" In the background, meanwhile, Abe and his cackling LDP cronies talk about the real reasons for delaying the elections: "Let's delay the election by all means. The people will soon forget." "If we make it in summer," says his advisor, "no one will be here." The bluebird replies, "I wonder to what extent they look down upon the people."

This panel is interesting as much for what it reveals about the DPJ's fears approaching the election as for what it reveals about the DPJ's thoughts about the Abe Cabinet. Undoubtedly the DPJ leadership is gravely concerned that Abe's Diet extension stunt will work: the month will pass, memories of the government's incompetence will wilt in the summer heat, and the government will emerge from the election a bit scrapped up but still in command of the Upper House — with two years to do whatever they wish before having to face the voters again. But the party also, of course, sincerely believes that the Abe Cabinet's vision of Japan is one wholly at odds with the concerns of the people they claim to represent. Just in case readers are unclear on that, the flier's back cover removes all doubt:


There he is, the commander in chief himself, resplendent in a uniform not unlike those favored by Latin American strongmen (and labeled with his favorite phrase — hint, it contains the word beautiful), surrounded by symbols of his government's dismal failures: the lost pensions, which "broke future dreams;" the juminzei tax hike, which bullied the weak; the decision to approve textbooks that claimed that the military had nothing to do with ordering Okinawans to commit collective suicide; and the renewed dispatch to Iraq. And then there's the mug shots of his advisers, including Foreign Minister Aso, who suggested that Japan consider a debate on developing a nuclear arsenal, former Administrative Reform Minister Sada, who misused political funds, Tax Commission Chairman Honma, who had a discounted love nest in Tokyo, Health Minister Yanagisawa, who insisted that women are baby-making machines, and lastly, the late Matsuoka Toshikatsu and his expensive fresh water. It was printed too early to include former Defense Minister Kyuma in the rogue's gallery. (Meanwhile, the uniform is a not-so-subtle reminder of Abe's family history and the provenance of some ideas favored by him and his cronies.)

This is actually similar to a suggestion I made a month ago: the DPJ should make "a video compilation of all of Abe's apologies for gross mistakes made by his government, with a cameo or two from Ministers Yanagisawa, Kyuma, Aso, and, of course, Mr. Nakagawa." While this flier is considerably less effective than a video that would let Abe and his ministers speak for themselves, the idea is the same. Time and time again, the government has given the opposition ammunition for its campaign. It's about time they put it to good use, although, that said, it is unclear how exactly voters will respond to this. Will it be enough to make them put off their vacation, or else submit an absentee ballot to register their disgust with the generalissimo's government?

Men are not angels

Working in the office of a Japanese Dietman and watching Japan's "sausage-making" process has been valuable in a number of ways — many of which I have documented here one way or another — but one lesson that I have left largely unmentioned is my renewed appreciation for the American political system.

No political system is perfect, because human beings are imperfect. The label of democracy does not automatically make people and the institutions by which they govern themselves somehow more perfect than otherwise.

But that is the genius of the American political system. It is grounded in human imperfection. It's all there in Federalist 51 by James Madison: "If men were angels, no government would be necessary. If angels were to govern men, neither external nor internal controls on government would be necessary. In framing a government which is to be administered by men over men, the great difficulty lies in this: you must first enable the government to control the governed; and in the next place oblige it to control itself. A dependence on the people is, no doubt, the primary control on the government; but experience has taught mankind the necessity of auxiliary precautions."

It is not just checks and balances, giving the branches of government the duty to check other branches (and making it in their interest to do so) — it is a culture of accountability: oversight committees, inspectors general, auditors, ombudsmen, and even investigative journalists, who lend a hand when others fail. The existence of these mechanisms presupposes human failure. They exist because they assume that individuals will try to skirt the law, will try to abuse their power — and that without vigilance by citizens, and by organizations and individuals whose purpose is to be vigilant, the system will be subverted.

One of the things I find most regrettable about the Japanese political system is the near-total absence of a culture of accountability. Public funds disappear into private pockets. Public interests are subverted by private interests. The watchers collude with the watched, and the voters — those who should be watching the watchmen — look away in indifference or disgust instead of demanding better.

It is with great alarm, then, that I look at the latest sinister twist in the saga of Dick Cheney, who has now asserted that his office is a kind of hybrid executive-legislative body, and free from the bounds of laws that govern both branches. That is a remarkably subversive idea: a powerful fiefdom within government that is free from "external [or] internal controls on government."

As the wreck that is the Bush administration finally comes to an end, the American people have a lot of serious thinking to do about the foundations of American constitutional order: not simply "liberty" or "democracy" or "equality," but accountability. It is government held accountable for its actions that makes the others possible. Unaccountable government is arbitrary government, and if American constitutionalism is to survive, citizens must recognize this as being the highest ideal.

Atlas shrugs in Japan?

This afternoon one of the local DPJ politicians supported by my boss was in the office, resting, and he asked whether I have read "Einrando." After some initial confusion, I finally figured out that he was asking about Ayn Rand — because he's in the process of reading Atlas Shrugged in Japanese (there are few books for which "in the process" is as apt as Atlas Shrugged).

We then proceeded to discuss the various "philosophers of liberty" — Hayek, Hume, Locke, Smith, Popper, Oakeshott — and he insisted upon the need for more liberty and smaller government in Japan.

I was taken aback, not necessarily because of his admiration, but because I had been discussing the applicability of Atlas Shrugged to Japan with Colonel Sturgeon just the other day. My point wasn't so much about Japan's needing smaller government and less exploitation of the government for private ends — it does — but the applicability of the novel's mood.

In the novel, the various sectors of society and economy fail, like a body wracked with disease that systematically attacks different organs. There is a pervasive gloom, with the action of the plot punctuated by news reports about one industrial sector after another failing. As I have watched reports of massive corruption in corporations in every sector of the Japanese economy — the latest example being NOVA, the leading English conversation school — and throughout the government, I cannot help but recall the atmosphere in Ayn Rand's dystopian America. While Japan might not be experiencing serial organ failure, it is suffering from a pervasive infection that has weakened every sector of the body politic.

Now, no one should construe this post as an unqualified endorsement of Ayn Rand. I consider my youthful infatuation with her thinking as one of those things that people should grow out of, like wearing velcro sneakers. As Stephen Fry said in an episode of A Bit of Fry and Laurie, "I don't believe in market forces. I used to, of course, when I was a child, but like everybody else, when I grew older, I discovered it was all made up." Now I would not go quite so far as that, but I did grow out of Rand: the world is far too complicated to be divided neatly into craven collectivists and heroic individualists.

But the discussion of the applicability of liberal (in the old sense, or the current sense for Europeans) thought to Japan is interesting. As I have written before, I have a hard time with importing Western political concepts into the Japanese context. Modern Japan has never known liberalism — it has had liberals, but never liberalism. Its institutions and political culture is steeped in constant interaction between state, economy, and society. Some would say that it is so as a function of Japanese culture, and is thus impervious to change. To me, that is neither here nor there. As far as I am concerned, it is a function of political culture, which while being slightly more susceptible to change is still a function of unique conditions in a given polity. As an Oakeshottian, I am content to let political culture be. Political culture grows over time, and is resistant to attempts by outsiders to change it. (Imagine what the New Dealers who came over to Japan with SCAP would think about what they wrought.) Would more liberalism in a political sense, with greater respect for the individual and a more dynamic civil society be enormously welcome in Japan? Absolutely. Would more economic liberalism, with more risk-taking, more dynamic enterprises, and less collusion among bureaucrats, politicians, and corporations be welcome? I must answer again in the affirmative.

But these will result only from long-term structural change; Japan will not change overnight. And as it changes, it will necessarily reflect Japanese conditions: for example, a more active civil society, but one that cooperates with the government and more risk-taking, but a strong safety net to protect people from getting too hurt. And with more than a quarter of Japan's population set to be over sixty-five in a few decades' time, there is a floor below which the Japanese welfare state will not recede. An aged society is necessarily a society in which the state will have an active role.

Nevertheless, the question of whether and how Japan will become more liberal is a fascinating one, that will only grow more interesting with time.

Reading the proverbial tea leaves

In light of the new Asahi poll showing that the DPJ has expanded its lead in the proportional representation races for the Upper House, 29% to 23%, it is interesting to consider Shisaku's discussion of whether a Lower House election is also possible this year.

Now, I don't disagree with his conclusion: "damnably unlikely." With its Lower House majority artificially high due to the LDP's stealing "seats in the urban areas that by all rights should be Democratic Party seats," there's pretty much one way that the LDP's majority can go. (Hint, it's down.)

But then, a lot of people are talking about the possibility of an election. My boss, who makes no secret of his desire to attempt a jump to the Lower House at the next opportunity, anticipates the next election to be before the 2009 deadline, perhaps as early as the autumn. His staff — myself included — have focused on canvassing in the Lower House district in which he'd compete. For an election that is supposedly two years away, there is a tremendous amount of time and money being spent now.

That, of course, is no guarantee of anything, but it does show that people are taking the possibility of a Lower House election before the end of the year quite seriously.

Why?

Allow me to offer some thoughts. (Ed. — What have you been doing until now? It's called throat clearing.) First, it seems that the Matsuoka-pensions problem double whammy has changed everyone's thinking on the political landscape. A merely weak and unpopular cabinet seems to have been transformed into a powerless and unpopular cabinet, led by a prime minister who appears to be able to do little more than apologize, repeatedly. A gloom has descended upon Nagatacho. The Diet continues to sit, debate, and pass legislation — and may even do so for longer than scheduled — but there is no joy in Mudville. Think back to early May, when "Shinzo" was fresh from his summit with "George" and he was celebrating the constitution's birthday by proclaiming his intention to tear it to pieces. There was a buoyancy to this government that seems all but spent.

The DPJ is now the buoyant party, as it has grasped the government's gift with both hands and (to use another sports metaphor) is rushing for the end zone. It has been remarkably mishap-free in the weeks since the pensions issue broke, and that's important. Yomiuri might nag about how the DPJ is short on specifics, but for the moment the public seems less concerned about the DPJ's shortcomings than the fact that bureaucrats mishandled the pensions of millions — and the government was slow in responding to it.

So what is the significance of this? Well, if we go back to Gerald Curtis's account of how the 1993 change of government happened, we can recall that political change in Japan is overdetermined: a number of factors, many were apparent only in hindsight, combined to unseat the scandal-ridden LDP. And much depended on the tactical decision making of individual politicians, not least Ozawa Ichiro.

What do we have today?

Corruption-tainted cabinet. Sordid, messy incident involving a cabinet minister. Prime minister lacking popular appeal. Incompetent handling of major source of income for millions. Talk of the post-Abe period by cabinet ministers. Ozawa Ichiro at the helm of the opposition (whatever his failings, he is wily and unpredictable).

These factors may not add up to significant change — but then again, they might. There's enough uncertainty out there that I cannot rule out a Lower House election by some chain of circumstance that will look perfectly clear in hindsight, especially if the fears raised by the pensions scandal render the electorate impervious to the government's blandishments.

And people call Japanese politics boring.

Meet the new daijin, same as the old daijin

On Friday morning, Prime Minister Abe summoned forty-eight-year-old Akagi Norihiko to Kantei and requested that Akagi serve as Matsuoka Toshikatsu's successor at the Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry, and Fisheries (MAFF). Akagi, a Tokyo University graduate, MAFF old boy (OB), and grandson of an agriculture minister in the cabinet of Abe's grandfather Kishi, was first elected the same year as Matsuoka (1990) and served in a similar succession of posts in LDP policy organs as Matsuoka.

In other words, he's a younger, more elite version of the late Mr. Matsuoka. (I say more elite because, as I wrote in this post, Matsuoka was not a Todai grad, not a ministry generalist OB, and not a hereditary politician.)

There are no indications that the policies Akagi will pursue will be any different from Matsuoka, and there are already signs of inappropriate monetary dealings between Akagi's koenkai and groups seeking contracts from MAFF. As Abe made clear when appointing him, Akagi will, like Matsuoka, seek to promote further reform of Japanese agriculture, work to the target of one trillion yen in agricultural exports, and act as a tough negotiator in WTO negotiations. In other words, agricultural mercantilism and favoritism on behalf of companies and farmers supporting the LDP.

Akagi's accession to the cabinet is a clear illustration that the problem is much bigger than Matsuoka: the problem is systemic. No cabinet-eligible LDP politician has clean hands.

Change the LDP, change Japan — now more than ever

David Pilling, the FT's Japan correspondent, indirectly responds to a point I made earlier this week when discussing Matsuoka's suicide in an op-ed entitled "No way back to old Japan" (subscription required).

As the title suggests, he argues that Matsuoka's suicide actually marks the death throes of the old political system:

The postwar system that is now morphing into something new depended on fast growth to survive: the LDP shovelled tax money from the cities to the countryside via huge public works programmes. It reaped dividends in the form of votes from over-represented rural constituencies and "political donations" through grateful interest groups. That system is no longer viable, for the simple reason that the money has run out. The public works budget has been savaged in the past decade. The system of paying for roads and dams with post office savings is being wound down. Indeed, the post office itself, the world's jangliest piggy bank, is being privatised.

Gerald Curtis, a Japan expert at Columbia university, says that Japan is undergoing the third great change in its modern history. The first was the Meiji Restoration, when leaders ditched feudalism. The second was the postwar construction of a machine to deliver rapid economic growth. Professor Curtis calls the third phase a "20-year decade", a glacial but valley-carving response to domestic economic crisis and globalisation. That adjustment has meant the slow breakdown of convoy capitalism, reflected in the unwinding of cross shareholdings. It also heralds the abandonment of egalitarian income distribution. In politics, it means the end of elections by money-stuffed envelopes and the rise of prime ministerial power and accountability.

Interestingly, he also argues that Abe's emphasis on education and constitution revision are signs of change, rather than examples of how Abe is interested in anything but midwifing the creation of a new political system.

I wish it were so. I wish the old system were transforming before our eyes, the Abe Cabinet being the swansong of the old era. But I think the evidence to support Pilling's argument is thin.

Undoubtedly the money is running out. There's no way around that. Politicians like the late Mr. Matsuoka have a smaller pot to fight over — but how will that affect the system? Will pork-barrel politicians decide to become reformers when faced with difficulties in earmarking funds for their constituencies? Will the incumbency advantage actually fail them as the amount of money they send home shrinks? On the contrary, won't politicians simply compete that much more fiercely to earn their share of the shrinking pie?

As for the rise of the prime minister in the policy making system, the new power