In explaining his policies to the Diet, Abe grabbed the attention of Japanese political analysts with his phrasing. “They [the sanctions] are what my cabinet will decide and [North Korea] should expect something severe,” he declared. In a political culture where a vast bureaucracy and groupthink traditionally hold sway, the prime minister’s declaration that “my cabinet will decide” was startling. The words were indicative of a much larger project–Abe’s bold attempt to strengthen the powers and prerogatives of his office to resemble more closely the U.S. White House.
Upon taking office, Abe immediately created more than a dozen new posts and filled them with political appointees who, under the aegis of Chief Cabinet Secretary Yasuhisa Shiozaki, will help him formulate foreign, economic, education and North Korea policy. Abe also appointed a government spokesman, a job that did not exist before. Pundits have dubbed the group “Team Abe,” and many of its members are relatively young politicians who share the prime minister’s conservative views.
For decades, Japan has essentially been run by its vaunted but slow-moving bureaucracy, staffed by the elite graduates of top universities. Nestled in Kasumigaseki, Japan’s Capitol Hill, they’ve quietly mapped the direction of the country, helped the politicians execute their plans–and sabotaged them at times, too. For Abe, who has never worked in the bureaucracy, to circumvent this system and try to rely instead on a powerful inner circle of advisers would be a watershed development–a genuine shift in the government’s balance of power if successful. Whereas former prime minister Junichiro Koizumi enhanced his office mostly by dint of charismatic leadership, his successor has begun to do so institutionally. Already he’s said to be limiting access to his office by bureaucrats to cement his own grip on policymaking, according to Japanese media reports.
Analysts say that to a degree, a shift of power toward the prime minister’s office was inevitable. “Japan’s level of participation in foreign affairs has become deeper and more complicated in recent years,” says Yukio Okamoto, a former special adviser to prime ministers Koizumi and Ryutaro Hashimoto, and now a Tokyo-based political consultant. “The issues Japan has to deal with–from [U.S. bases in] Okinawa to North Korea–have become deeply entangled in Japan’s domestic policies. Today, only the prime minister’s office can deal with diplomatic and internal issues comprehensively.” Policy options proffered by a multidisciplinary group close to the prime minister, Okamoto adds, would be preferable to those conceived by a single agency.
Abe, indeed, has appointed five special advisers to the prime minister. The most notable one, perhaps, is Yuriko Koike, special adviser for national-security affairs (following story). A skilled, effective politician, she has steadily risen up the ladder (serving most recently as Environment minister), but her latest job could be her hardest. Abe has made it clear that he intends to create a Japanese-style National Security Council based on the American and British models, one that can synthesize and streamline policy options for him. Both Koike and Shiozaki, who is also responsible for national security, are expected to lay the groundwork for an NSC in coming months. Currently staffed with only two executive assistants, Koike’s office is expected to expand considerably once the cabinet law is revised to make possible additional hires.
Could an NSC really work in Japan, or might one just spark tensions and turf battles with the Foreign Ministry and Defense Agency (a problem to which even America is not immune)? The issue of foreign-intelligence sharing among different ministries and agencies has already been sticky and could only get more complicated. Success will depend on Koike’s style and the number of people she’ll be able to mobilize. “Appointing a prominent political figure like Koike is a double-edged sword,” says Okamoto. “She can use her capacities to thrash [through] the bureaucracy, or she can be perceived as a nuisance by the bureaucrats,” he adds.
Abe is similarly trying to consolidate power around other issues that mean a lot to him. He’s appointed a special adviser for education, Eriko Yamatani, and established a new education-reform panel for her to run. The prime minister wants to weed out poor teachers and promote competition between schools, perhaps through a voucher program. But he confounded some critics by appointing both like-minded and more-liberal education experts to the panel. It’s not the first time that Abe has softened his hawkish stance since becoming prime minister. Some experts see his occasional tacking to the center as a calculated move. “He is more realist and pragmatist than has been generally regarded,” says Takao Toshikawa, a Tokyo-based expert on Japanese politics.
Remarkably, when it comes to Koizumi’s forte of economic policymaking, Abe seems far less engaged. The clearest sign is his lineup of economic gurus. It includes few if any wheeler-dealers who can push through a hike in the consumption tax or a reform of pension and health-care programs for the elderly–two issues that need immediate attention to contain the growth of the nation’s mushrooming debts. “There is no [Heizo] Takenaka,” says Hiromichi Shira-kawa, the chief economist at Credit Suisse Securities in Tokyo, referring to the outspoken U.S. -educated economist who was the architect of Koizumi’s structural reforms.
In contrast, Abe’s special adviser for economic and fiscal policies, Takumi Nemoto, is a politician. Thus, he is not a threat to the bureaucracy. As an outsider economist, Shirakawa says, Takenaka could afford to put his job on the line. Nemoto can’t. Economic Minister Hiroko Ota is herself perceived as too polite for the head-knocking the job requires. “The momentum for economic reform has been slowed. Abe is good at dealing with clear and present dangers, as in his dealings with North Korea, but he does not seem interested in economic matters,” says Shirakawa.
Meanwhile, anti-reformers within the ruling Liberal Democratic Party, who were almost destroyed by Koizumi, seem to be making a comeback. Koizumi ousted several LDP veterans who opposed his reform plan for the postal service. But with upper-house elections scheduled for next summer, senior party members have been pressuring Abe to welcome the pariahs back into the fold. Abe’s closest supporter is Hidenao Nakagawa, the influential ruling-party secretary-general.
It’s a tricky situation for Abe. Many of the postal-reform opponents ousted by Koizumi are conservatives who generally support Abe’s agenda. But a decision to welcome them back into the LDP might open the prime minister to criticism that he is not fully committed to economic and fiscal reform–denting his public image as a man ready to carry on the Koizumi legacy. Abe has so far refused to comment on his matter, but given the pressure, some experts say it’s only a matter of time before the outcasts rejoin the party.
Perhaps fortuitously, national- and regional-security issues are dominating the headlines these days, not domestic reform. They give Abe a chance to strengthen the executive branch at time when the public is jittery about North Korea. The prime minister’s early effort to improve Japan’s bilateral relationships with China and South Korea, along with his swift response to the nuclear crisis, have already won plaudits: his public-support rating in polls hit 70 percent recently. Japan is a nation that reveres consensus, and any leader who aims to make an end run around the country’s redoubtable bureaucracy is taking what Okamoto calls “a gamble.” But right now Abe has the hot hand–and an appetite for change.
