With Ozawa, there's no easy option

Ozawa Ichiro has escaped indictment by the Tokyo Public Prosecutors Office again. Once again, his former secretaries were not quite so lucky, with three, including sitting Diet member Ishikawa Tomohiro, being indicted for political funds violations.

Michael Cucek rightly points to the gross misconduct of the PPO in its Ahab-like pursuit of Ozawa — and perhaps the more egregious campaign by the media to paint Ozawa as the conniving, monstrous puppet master of the Hatoyama government.

But I cannot treat Ozawa's escape from prosecution as a victory for the prime minister and the DPJ, and cannot but wonder whether the DPJ wouldn't be better off without its secretary-general.

If anything, the indictment of three of his former aides even as Ozawa survives with a vote of confidence from the prime minister will continue to be a drag on the government. As in the days when Ozawa was in charge and Hatoyama his secretary-general, Hatoyama sounds like Ozawa's chief apologist, explaining Ozawa's behavior to a skeptical public. Except, of course, Hatoyama is now the prime minister of Japan. Ozawa's presence at the head of the DPJ would be less of a problem for the Hatoyama cabinet if it had been able to dominate the media and dictate the narrative being told about the government. But the Hatoyama government has been so ineffectual in its public relations — not entirely its fault seeing as how certain publications are serving as the LDP's partners in opposition — that everything said or done by the government in relation to Ozawa contributes to the media's narrative of a government under Ozawa's thumb. Instead of reporting on the remarkable changes the Hatoyama government has made to the policymaking process, the media has been able to fixate on the superficial resemblance between the current government and the LDP in its heyday (which Ozawa of course participated in). As I've said before, I'm not convinced that DPJ government with Ozawa wielding outsized influence is worse than LDP government in which an army of backbenchers wielded influence in combination with the bureaucracy that was able to undermine all but the most determined prime ministers — and even determined prime ministers like Koizumi Junichiro did not win every battle with the backbenchers.

What should the Hatoyama government, Ozawa, and the DPJ do going forward? As Hokkaido University's Yamaguchi Jiro — a DPJ sympathizer — notes, the fate of political change and with it the Japanese people's hope for their democracy hang in the balance. He recommends that Ozawa let the trial proceed and let the PPO's evidence (or lack thereof) speak for itself. At the same time, he suggests that Ozawa forthrightly answer every question surrounding doubts about his political funds in the court of public opinion. I wonder whether Ozawa is capable of this. I know that Hatoyama and other DPJ leaders are not capable of making Ozawa do it. At the very least, Ozawa has to restrain himself and at least appear as if he is the prime minister's subordinate, not his equal (or superior).

Meanwhile, the Hatoyama government must fundamentally reconsider how it presents itself to the public via the media. The time of letting the facts speak for themselves has passed, because the facts about the government do not speak for themselves. The government needs begin aggressively making its case. Whether that will entail a new chief cabinet secretary, a media strategy team attached to the prime minister's office, or some other scheme will depend on the government, but the current arrangement is simply not working. And the prime minister needs to start showing some ability to lead, or step down.

No matter how skilled a campaigner he is, no matter how zealous a reformer he is, Ozawa's baggage imperils the government — and more than that, it jeopardizes Japan's political future and provides further impetus to cynicism among the Japanese people. There is no easy answer to the Hatoyama government's dilemma. Fire Ozawa, and it loses a skilled campaigner trusted among party supporters in the provinces. Retain Ozawa, and the prime minister continues to look weak and the media continues to feast upon the Ozawa scandal.

Ultimately, I fear that Hatoyama is simply incapable of solving this dilemma and saving his government.

The Ozawa saga continues

Say what you will about Ozawa Ichiro, but he is nothing if not resilient. In the nearly three years since the DPJ took control of the House of Councillors, he has resigned as party president twice, reversing his decision the first time in November 2008, returning as acting president in charge of elections the second time in 2009 and surviving to serve as secretary-general of the DPJ in power. Despite investigations into illicit real estate deals and connections with the construction company Nishimatsu, despite the indictment of his aide, despite being the target of attacks by the LDP and the media, Ozawa has remained, bloodied, perhaps, but undaunted.

Has his long and storied career finally come to an end?

The latest blow to Ozawa is a criminal investigation by the Tokyo prosecutor's office of Ozawa's support group, the Rikuzankai, for failure to report properly a 400 million yen donation that was used to purchase housing for Ozawa's aides. Ishikawa Tomohiro, a former Ozawa secretary now serving as a member of the House of Representatives, may be indicted for his role in the scandal.

As perhaps a sign of the gravity of the situation, the Hatoyama government declined to comment. Unlike last year, when DPJ leaders joined Ozawa in questioning the motives of the prosecutor's office, the Hatoyama government is taking a wait-and-see approach. For his part, Ozawa apologized to the Japanese people for the "misunderstanding" and said that there was no criminal intent in the misreporting of the donation suspected to have come from the Kajima construction company.

Perhaps not coincidentally, Ozawa has begun a tour of the country in anticipation of July's upper house election. Sankei and Yomiuri, which have enthusiastically cataloged Ozawa's political interventions, have both reported that Ozawa is shifting to a "low posture" and question whether it is a function of the deepening investigation or the approaching upper house election.

For that reason, there may be a silver lining to Ozawa's being under investigation and increasingly away from Tokyo on the hustings. Namely with Ozawa preoccupied, the Hatoyama government may find it easier to dispel the notion that it is under Ozawa's thumb and use the forthcoming Diet session to move its agenda instead of having to fend of accusations that Ozawa is the real ruler of the country. Meanwhile, the Ozawa scandal is also keeping the LDP from becoming a more effective opposition party, which is good for the DPJ if not for Japan. Like the Hatoyama scandal before it, the Ozawa scandal seems like an inviting target for the LDP, an easy way to attack the government without having to consider the party's future. Yamamoto Ichita warns his party that the DPJ's mistakes will not be sufficient for the LDP to regain the trust of the public, but I suspect that his warnings will go unheeded.

Of course, that is slight comfort compared to the risk that Ozawa could take the government's support down with him. For now the government and the DPJ have little choice but to hope for the best.

Whatever the reality of Ozawa's role in the policymaking process, he is casting his shadow over the Hatoyama government. Remarkably, the Faustian bargain the DPJ made with Ozawa to merge with his Liberal Party — a deal made when Hatoyama was last the president of the DPJ — continues to dog the DPJ. Ozawa was instrumental in positioning the party to unseat the LDP and take power, but only if it took on Ozawa's baggage: his history as Tanaka Kakuei's lieutenant and a leader of the LDP's largest and most notorious faction, his secretiveness, his tendency to lunge for fleeting opportunities that backfire (cf. the breakdown of the 1993-1994 non-LDP coalition), and his tendency to speak a bit too freely for his own good. The DPJ, for better or worse, knew exactly what it was getting when it joined hands with Ozawa — and it has not been disappointed.

Regardless of how the investigation plays out, it may be time for Ozawa to leave, at least after the upper house election if he survives this latest scandal. As indispensable as he is on the campaign trail, he is hurting the government. If Ozawa is serious about wanting to change Japan for the better, he must ask himself whether the Hatoyama government would be better off with him in retirement — provided that the Tokyo prosecutor's office does not determine the terms of Ozawa's exit from politics.

Is it possible improve Japanese political financing?

Less than two months after succeeding the tainted Ozawa Ichirō as DPJ president, Hatoyama Yukio is mired in a scandal of his own, related to the use of fake contributions to cover for illegal transfers from Hatoyama's personal funds to his political support group.

Jun Okumura describes the scandal in painstaking detail here.

Asō Tarō naturally singled out Hatoyama for criticism, calling on the DPJ leader to provide a clearer explanation for what happened. This scandal, however, will not be the gift to the LDP that the Ozawa scandal was, which, after all, undermined the DPJ's promise that regime change would signify a dramatic change from LDP rule — covering up questionable contributions from a construction company being all too typical of business as usual under the LDP. Instead, the Hatoyama scandal looks like business of usual for all politicians under the current political financing system, the creative accounting that all political support groups appear to be both within the law and in the black. (With the added twist of the role played by Hatoyama's personal fortune in covering up for shortfalls.)

In hindsight, we should not be surprised that, given Hatoyama's wealth, the line between his personal funds and his political organization was blurred. But it's hard to get too worked up over a political funds scandal, not when the political funds control law appears to be honored more in the breach than in the observance.

I'd like to think that upon taking office the DPJ could fix the political financing system — which because it gives individual politicians a considerable degree of independence from their parties has certainly undermined the cohesiveness of the LDP — but it may be beyond reform. Short of banning kōenkai outright, which would be impossible and, beyond that, presumably unconstitutional, any reform at this point would be mere tinkering to refine the ability of authorities to uncover egregious abuses of the system.

What the government should do, however, is bring Japanese political activities into the twenty-first century. Make it easier for individuals to contribute to politicians, enable politicians to make more use of the Internet, a scalable method of reaching supporters and providing information compared with the labor-intensive and costly method of disseminating an endless stream of paper. It should also — as Ozawa has argued — lift the restriction on door-to-door campaigning, which is cheaper than distributing material.

If the DPJ and other parties are serious about political reform, they ought to lower the barriers to entry in Japanese politics, making it easier for outsiders, candidates without the "three ban", to enter politics. Doing so won't spell the end of corruption, but it would make it possible for candidates to be successful even without the cozy relationships with donors that lead to corruption.

Will he stay or will he go?

Okubo Takanori, Ozawa Ichiro's chief secretary, has as expected been indicted by the Tokyo district public prosecutor's office for violating the political funds control law..

Ozawa is due to announce whether he will remain as DPJ president today.

In the days leading up to the indictment, the DPJ has rallied behind its embattled leader, which in practice means that the decision to resign is, as Hatoyama Yukio said Tuesday, in Ozawa's hands alone. An uneasy truce, limiting backbencher criticism of Ozawa, appears to be holding, but it is unclear how durable the truce is. In the meantime the party is struggling to limit the damage while waiting for Ozawa to decide. To that end, at a meeting of the DPJ executive Tuesday Okada Katsuya, who still looks to be the most likely successor should Ozawa go, stressed the need to address the public's concerns about money politics in the DPJ — but, as many reformist DPJ members worry, it is unclear whether the DPJ can fix its image with Ozawa as the face of the party, particularly if Ozawa's political organization continues to be investigated for collusion with the construction industry.

I'm due to board a plane shortly, but in the meantime read Aurelia George Mulgan's summary of the meaning of the Ozawa scandal.

Ozawa fights back

Appearing at a press conference at DPJ headquarters this morning, DPJ President Ozawa Ichiro, under fire following the arrest of Okubo Takanori, his chief secretary, was defiant.

Ozawa stated that he would not step down following the arrest, and insisted that his secretary received money from Nishimatsu construction in compliance with the political funds control law.

In his press conference, Ozawa accused the Tokyo District Public Prosecutor's Office with abusing its powers for political purposes — he described the prosecutor's investigation as being "without precedent." (MTC provides more detail for why this arrest may have been politically motivated.)

Even if Ozawa somehow manages to survive this affair, the damage may well have been done, both to him and his party.

The first reason is simply how the Japanese press operates. The press wasted no time initiating a feeding frenzy surrounding the scandal, with the Sankei Shimbun — which had just published a lengthy hatchet job on Ozawa the day before the scandal broke — the most aggressive shark. A glance at Sankei's most recent political articles reveals that it has published thirteen articles on the arrest since the story broke Tuesday, not counting the four-part reprint of Ozawa's press conference and an editorial running three pages online calling for a full accounting from Ozawa. This glut may be partially attributed to Sankei's heftier web presence, but considering its recent attack on Ozawa, there is obviously more to it. Sankei has taken it upon itself to undermine Ozawa, and it will do everything it can to flog this story. Sankei is not alone, of course. A scandal involving the possible next prime minister and the man everyone in Japanese politics loves to hate? Too good to pass up. And so Yomuiri reports, without naming any names, that part of the DPJ has called for Ozawa to step down. And Mainichi provides a handy reminder that Nishimatsu had ties with the late Kanemaru Shin, a favorite bogeyman from the old LDP.

All of which goes to suggest that Ken Worsley is wrong to argue that the election will simply be a matter of measuring "21 million yen in illegal donations possibly going to balance out against 54 million missing pension payments." Politics do not work like that — electoral politics do not work like that. The voters are not keeping a running account of the LDP's failures versus Ozawa's and the DPJ's shortcomings. Perceptions matter. Reputations matter. As I wrote in my initial response to this affair, Ozawa has spent years trying to remake himself in the public eye, to present himself as an earnest reformer and not the clone of Tanaka Kakuei. It takes very little to destroy a reputation. By fighting back Ozawa might be able to undo some of the damage, but the initial response has surely undone much of his efforts to remake his public image. How much will it take for the public to conclude that they are better off sticking with the LDP — whose corruption and failures are well known — than switching to the unknown and "irresponsible" DPJ?

Given the irregularities surrounding the arrest, Ozawa and the DPJ are right to fight back. I was hasty in suggesting that Ozawa may have to step down, but much will depend on whether the prosecutor's office is able to provide enough evidence to dispel claims that the arrest was politically motivated — and whether the press takes the irregularities seriously or whether it devotes all of its attention to judging Okubo (and Ozawa) guilty until proven innocent. Many are the scandals in which the man at the center of the scandal put up a brave front initially only to cave in the face of relentless pressure.

But there is no doubting that this is a blow to the DPJ. Ozawa has been a blessing for the DPJ, without question. He brought a much needed blend of political realism and policy vision to a party that lacked both in its half-decade of existence. He has disciplined its unruly ranks, forced the party's members to focus on winning, and remade the party so that it can compete in electoral districts across the country. Despite press reports in recent years about potential defectors from the DPJ, he has successfully co-opted rivals and served as a glue for a party that was demoralized by the 2005 election and the 2006 Horie email scandal that led to the embarrassing resignation of Maehara Seiji. But all of that came with the taint of Ozawa's past, both his LDP past and his past as the relentless schemer behind the Hosokawa-Hata non-LDP cabinets and during his wilderness years in the 1990s. A scandal like this was always possible, but it was a risk well worth taking.

Readers will note that I have not called the election for the LDP yet. I myself have argued that the LDP is so far gone that nothing can possibly save it. But Ozawa's stumble has given the LDP an opening. It has changed the focus of public attention from incompetent and unpopular Aso to corrupt Ozawa, a much needed break for a government fighting for its life. If the media continues to probe, and if the prosecutor's office helps to keep the story alive, Aso may continue to benefit from Ozawa's being the subject of a feeding frenzy. Moreover, it may enable the LDP to go on the offensive, something it has been unable to do virtually from the moment Aso took office. The LDP has already jumped on Ozawa's remarks about the US military presence in Japan — a Tuesday meeting of the defense policy subcommittee of the national defense division of the LDP's Policy Research Council was apparently devoted to criticism of Ozawa — and now the arrest has given new life to another line of attack, one that the LDP has already used against Ozawa but which will not undoubtedly have greater resonance. The LDP will go on the offensive, with LDP reformists declaring that the LDP's past is the DPJ's present, while Prime Minister Aso stays above the fray, solemnly proclaiming that he is above politics and focused solely on fixing the economy. I'm not saying that this will be enough to rescue the LDP, but it does give the governing party hope that it did not have before. The party is already lowering its sights for the general election to 230 seats, which, if it can get them, would be enough sufficient for the LDP to sneak back into power with Komeito's holding the key to power.

This outcome would be terrible for Japan.

An LDP-led government even more dependent on Komeito while still facing an upper house in opposition hands would make the current government look dynamic. Such a government would almost certainly trigger some form of realignment. Realignment, while perhaps necessary in the long term, will simply doom Japan to irrelevance in the near to medium term while the new parties reformed from the ashes of the old.

None of which is to say that a DPJ government would be a panacea, but at least a DPJ victory contains the possibility of a sharp break with the past and some progress on the problems facing Japan. Ozawa, for all his failings, is essential to producing a DPJ electoral victory and for making the most of such a victory. His authority, his charisma, and his political abilities are unmatched by any potential successors in the DPJ — and these qualities will be essential if the DPJ is to take on the bureaucracy, as it plans to do should it take power. But undermined by these allegations, Ozawa will have that much less authority over his party and in the eyes of the public.

Finally, as Janne Morén notes, all that may come of this is complete disillusionment with the political system, a sort of anti-"Yes we can"-ism. Some might say that Japan is already there, but I think there are still glimmers of hope among the public that it is not too late to change. Perhaps this can be overstated — Ozawa, after all, has never been seen as a saint — but this scandal may lead many to conclude that Japanese politics is simply beyond fixing.

That would be the worst possible consequence of this scandal. Japanese democracy cannot be reinvigorated without the public's taking a keen interest in how the country is governed, even if taking a keen interest means being anger at the government's failures.

Did the LDP just find its miracle?

Hold the debate, indeed.

Naturally Ozawa Ichiro's top aide had to get himself arrested the day I wrote 1,000 words on what kind of leader Ozawa would be as a prime minister.

Jun Okumura has the details here.

In brief, Ozawa's aide has been accused of receiving funds for one of Ozawa's political support groups from Nishimatsu Construction, a construction company (not surprisingly) with some history of dubious contributions to politicians.

It is hard to see how Ozawa will recover from this: I can only imagine the glee with which Aso Taro said "no comment" to reporters this evening.

Sankei has already broken out the pictures of Kanemaru Shin, which is precisely why this is so devastating.

Ozawa's challenge since becoming DPJ president has been to convince voters (and members of his own party) that he has left his past as Tanaka Kakuei's "son" behind, that he means what he says about reform. It is questionable how much success he has had. I've heard DPJ members talk of urban voters viewing Ozawa with some distrust, and, after all, would rural voters — among whom Ozawa has campaigned heavily — be all that dismayed by his past association with Tanaka? Nevertheless, whatever progress Ozawa has made in changing his image will probably be undone in one fell swoop. It is hard to run as an agent of change when you're taking shady money from that most corrupt of industries, the construction industry. Even if Ozawa had nothing to do with this deal, the damage has been done. The past, it seems, has caught up with Ozawa.

While it is far too early to identify the political consequences of the arrest, the question now is whether Ozawa leaves the leadership without a fight and designates a successor, or whether the DPJ falls into civil war. For all we know this incident could lead to the DPJ's reformists throwing up their hands and quitting the party. For my part, I suspect that Ozawa will be nudged out the door and given some advisory position, with the leadership passing to Okada Katsuya, who has been working hard to burnish his image and has the virtue of not being strongly disliked by the bulk of the party. The DPJ can presumably only save itself by jettisoning Ozawa, and quickly.

This seems to be a fitting end to the age of Ozawa, with Ozawa a Moses-like figure who has brought an opposition party within sight of the promised land only to be denied entry for past transgressions (past in the nature of the act, not in the timing).

And who ever said that Japanese politics is boring?

Can the LDP — or anyone — eradicate amakudari?

The Aso government, looking to hasten the passage of the FY2009 budget (the third stage of Prime Minister Aso's plan to overcome the recession), has promised to accelerate the timetable for introducing the ban on the practice of amakudari and the related practice of watari, whereby a retired bureaucrat wanders to other employers who might have inappropriate ties with his former ministry. The government will concurrently hasten the creation of a new organization that will help retiring bureaucrats find jobs.

Clearly Mr. Aso is trying to head off criticism from multiple directions: reformists within the LDP, former LDP administrative reform czar Watanabe Yoshimi, and the DPJ.

Economist Ikeda Nobuo dismisses as "make believe" the idea that the government can simply decree an end to amakudari.

Ikeda makes the astute point that one cannot simply decree the end of amakudari, because the problem is intertwined with a range of problems relating to the nature of the bureaucracy and the labor market. How, he wonders, are fifty-something ex-bureaucrats — despite their management experience and (presumably) advanced degrees — supposed to find jobs on their own in the labor market as it exists today? What company is hiring senior managers in their fifties, unless it entails providing a sinecure in exchange for the ex-bureaucrat's connections and knowledge? At the same time, both the LDP and the DPJ are on record as wanting to cut waste, which in practice means dissolving the semigovernmental corporations that absorb a good number of ex-bureaucrats. If the private sector cannot gainfully employ them, and if there are fewer semi-public or public sector jobs available, where exactly will these still-useful ex-bureaucrats go? Foreign companies?

One way to ease the pressure on the system is by having more bureaucrats retire earlier. Takahashi Yoichi, formerly of the finance ministry and now one of its biggest critics, and Eda Kenji, formerly of METI and now an independent Diet member collaborating with Mr. Watanabe, have been promoting precisely that, with their 脱藩官僚会 (dappan kanryo kai). Based on the example of the bakumatsu, when samurai voluntarily left the service of their daimyo, their idea is to encourage bureaucrats to retire early and put their policy expertise to work for the whole of Japan, as a means of encouraging the transfer of power away from the bureaucracy. Incidentally, Mr. Eda calls for the same combination of cutting waste and banning amakudari, meaning he better get to work recruiting dappan kanryo. (He explains the group here.) Clearly, however, these changes will not be enough. It may take the bureaucracy introducing merit-based promotions, which in turn will require that incoming bureaucrats receive more education before entering their ministries instead of devoting the first several years of their careers to training.

Of course, there is a whole different set of problems assuming it were even possible for companies to hire mid-career ex-bureaucrats as managers with ease. The US government is, in a sense, engaged in an ongoing struggle to prevent retired civil servants from abusing their former positions. A whole range of institutions — departmental inspectors general, the government accountability office (GAO), the Justice Department's public integrity section, the office of government ethics, and so on — is engaged in the hard work of investigating and punishing abuses of office by current and former government employees.

The laws are fairly clear. Former employees are legally proscribed from representing a third party with government agencies on any matter in which involvement was "personal and substantial." Some high level officials are subject to a "cooling off" period, a one-year period during which any attempt to contact their former employers with "the intent to influence" an official decision is forbidden. "Very senior" employees are banned from contacting senior executive branch officials and employees of their former agency for a year. Naturally it is worth asking what happens after the cooling off period, because Japan also has laws mandating cooling off periods. The difference, it seems, is not a matter of law, but a matter of enforcement.

As the Global Integrity Report on the US found, the US government has more work to do on policing ties between former bureaucrats and their employers. But the point is not that the US is perfect — far from it. Rather, the US government has made a point of trying to root out this behavior. It has developed a number of organizations with the explicit purpose of keeping these corrupt ties in check. And despite that, it still has a hard time policing ties between retired civil servants and their former agencies, especially, I would argue, in matters of defense (Eisenhower's defense-industrial complex).

In other words, it is not enough to declare amakudari at an end and offer to assist retiring bureaucrats with finding new employment. Is this government prepared to create new institutions to police ex-bureaucrats and the government's ministries and agencies? Is it ready to protect whistleblowers? Is it prepared to create and nurture a whole new agency whose explicit purpose is policing the rest of the bureaucracy? Uprooting amakudari will require a government-wide commitment to eradicating the practice. It will also require Diet oversight.

Naturally the same challenges apply for the DPJ, which has made cutting waste its top promise for the next general election.

Unlike Nakagawa Hidenao, who continues to impugn the DPJ's reformist credentials based on the slightest of pretenses, I believe the DPJ is serious about administrative reform. I recently talked for an hour with Nagatsuma Akira, the man responsible for exposing the pensions scandal and a currently a member of the DPJ's "Next Cabinet" as minister responsible for pensions. Mr. Nagatsuma is passionate about administrative reform, seeing it, correctly in my view, as essential for democracy. He is positively bursting with ideas for reform., with a zeal unmatched by any Japanese politician I have ever met. He believes in the importance of accountability. His zeal, I think, is representative of how the DPJ will govern.

But zeal or no zeal, the DPJ will still have to find a way to navigate through this treacherous minefield, with the additional challenge of the party's ties with public-sector unions. I still have hope for the DPJ, but I am not blind to the difficulties it faces on this fundamental issue.

For now, simply declaring an end to amakudari is nothing more than a publicity stunt. (Ikeda, more generous than I, calls it a first step, which I suppose is true but that presumes that this government is prepared to take the aforementioned next steps.)

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?