When a person from your hometown rises to national leadership, the feeling is more than pride. It is recognition that history can pass through the hands of someone you once met on the street or shook hands with at a small rally. I still remember seeing Sanae Takaichi when she first ran for election in the early 1990s. She was young, determined, and standing before ordinary people with a voice that was both clear and strong. It was almost thirty years ago, yet that memory remains vivid.
To see her today on the verge of becoming Japan’s first female prime minister is remarkable. This is not her first attempt. She tried and failed twice before, each time blocked by the old networks that dominate the ruling party. Yet she did not vanish, nor did she change her principles to please factions. She remained steady, continuing her work, building her expertise, and staying close to her convictions. That perseverance has finally been rewarded.
Her victory in the LDP leadership contest is not only a personal triumph. It speaks to a public longing for leaders who embody competence and dedication. Japanese people have grown weary of leaders who appear as placeholders, chosen not for merit but for factional balance. Takaichi’s ascent suggests that persistence and substance still count, even in a political culture often driven by lineage and compromise.
For me, there is an emotional layer. Nara is often remembered as the cradle of Japan’s ancient civilization, a place of temples and tradition. To see someone from that soil rise to guide the modern state is meaningful. It connects the roots of history with the uncertainties of today.
The Party Divided Within Itself
The Liberal Democratic Party is a peculiar institution. Unlike the two-party systems seen elsewhere, Japan’s dominant party has long contained within it both liberal and conservative currents. In some ways it is as if the Democrats and Republicans of the United States coexisted inside a single political organization, fighting each other in leadership contests but still wearing the same party label.
This arrangement has given the LDP remarkable resilience. By allowing factions with opposing views to remain under one banner, the party has managed to avoid the open splits that might otherwise have weakened it. At the same time, this structure has encouraged constant internal struggles. Leaders are often chosen less for vision than for their ability to balance factions and preserve influence.
The effect on the public has been mixed. On the one hand, stability has been maintained. Japan has largely avoided the rapid swings of government that plague many democracies. On the other hand, citizens often feel disconnected from the process, watching as leaders rise and fall according to deals struck behind closed doors. This has contributed to voter apathy and declining faith in mainstream politics.
For Takaichi, winning within such a system is itself remarkable. She did not emerge from a powerful political family. She did not inherit a dynasty. Instead, she carved her path within a party that often favors lineage over merit. That alone sets her apart in the LDP’s long history.
The Axes of Politics
To understand Takaichi’s significance, it is important to place her in the line of recent leaders. Shinzo Abe was the central figure of the past two decades. A conservative at heart, he emphasized patriotism, closer ties with Taiwan, and a desire to preserve Japan’s cultural traditions. His leadership was interrupted by health issues, yet his long tenure left a deep mark. The tragedy of his assassination in 2022 shocked the nation and created a vacuum that reshaped politics.
After Abe, Yoshihide Suga stepped in. He had served as Abe’s chief cabinet secretary, known for his tireless work and plain style. As prime minister, he faced the daunting task of leading Japan through the pandemic while hosting the postponed Tokyo Olympics. These were extraordinary circumstances, and he carried the burden with determination. Although his term was short and often criticized, his dedication was undeniable. He represented a bridge between Abe’s era and what came after.
Fumio Kishida and Shigeru Ishiba represented a different current. They leaned toward liberal internationalism, emphasizing smoother relations with China and Korea, support for sustainability initiatives, and policies that welcomed immigration. They sought to present Japan as a cooperative partner in global frameworks, often stressing diversity and inclusivity. Their vision, however, left many Japanese uneasy. With the population declining, the economy stagnating, and cultural identity feeling fragile, such policies seemed detached from public anxieties.
It is tempting to call this divide globalist versus nationalist, but the reality is more complex. Abe himself was highly global in his engagement, building alliances across Asia, strengthening ties with Europe, and positioning Japan as a proactive international actor. Nationalism and internationalism are not mutually exclusive. What mattered was the orientation of policies toward protecting Japan’s identity while still engaging with the world.
Takaichi has remained consistent since her first election in 1993. While the political environment has shifted around her, her positions have not. This steadiness contrasts sharply with the changing currents of recent leaders.
The Social Mood Today
Japan is facing profound challenges. The population continues to decline, with fewer children born each year and an aging society placing immense strain on the economy. At the same time, immigration is increasing, not in overwhelming numbers, but enough to spark cultural anxieties. Add to this the long shadow of economic stagnation, and it is no surprise that patriotic sentiment is rising.
This rise is not driven by racism or hostility to outsiders. It is born of a desire to preserve values and traditions that many feel are slipping away. Immigration is not opposed in principle. What people want is a policy that is transparent and legal, one that protects social cohesion rather than eroding it through ad hoc measures. To label these concerns as xenophobia is to miss their depth.
The best analogy is the household. Imagine a family that welcomes guests but then begins to quarrel among themselves about how to treat them. Some want to offer everything, others worry about fairness, and soon the quarrel grows larger than the presence of the guests themselves. This is how Japanese society feels at times, divided not only by policy but by fear of losing its sense of home.
In this environment, Takaichi’s rise is understandable. She represents stability and a clear voice that speaks to patriotic concerns without rejecting engagement with the world. Her popularity is part of the same pattern that elevated Abe, and it mirrors in some ways the rise of conservative leaders elsewhere. Yet comparisons to figures like Donald Trump flatten the differences. Takaichi is neither populist in style nor careless in rhetoric. Her appeal lies in quiet consistency.
The Meritocratic Standard
Meritocracy is a word often used but rarely embodied in politics. In Japan, as in many countries, politics is treated as a family business. Children inherit seats, names open doors, and dynasties perpetuate themselves. This tendency has produced leaders who appear more as heirs than as statesmen.
Shinjirō Koizumi exemplifies this pattern. Son of the charismatic former prime minister Junichirō Koizumi, he entered politics with a famous name and media charm. During the recent leadership contest, veteran politicians supported him precisely because they saw him as a pliable figure. With him at the top, they could maintain their influence behind the scenes.
But Koizumi lacked substance. His education abroad, including a degree from Columbia University, did not translate into depth or command. His English, despite the degree, seemed limited. To many observers, this looked like a familiar pattern where prestigious universities serve as a finishing school for political heirs rather than centers of rigorous learning. The public saw through it.
Takaichi stood in contrast. She was not born into a dynasty. She fought her way up through determination and knowledge. Her command of both detail and vision convinced many that she was a leader who understood Japan’s problems in full. Her victory was therefore more than personal. It was a rejection of puppet politics and a sign that voters still value merit when it is visible.
The Media Problem and the People’s Voice
One of the most striking features of the recent contest was the role of the media. Mainstream outlets promoted Koizumi as the natural successor, repeating polls and narratives that suggested his inevitability. Yet this narrative never aligned with the quiet mood of the people.
Japanese citizens have grown skeptical of the media. They sense a widening gap between coverage and reality. When media voices amplify candidates who are convenient to the establishment but disconnected from the public, trust erodes further. In this election, the press insisted Koizumi was favored, but voters chose differently.
This dynamic is not new, but it is growing sharper. Many already expect that Takaichi will face criticism, some of it exaggerated or even distorted. The media may present her as extreme, inflexible, or old-fashioned, despite the steadiness she has shown. She will need to lead with resilience, knowing that media storms may not reflect the nation’s deeper mood.
The disconnect between establishment narratives and grassroots sentiment is now a defining feature of Japanese politics. For Takaichi, this gap is both a challenge and an opportunity. If she listens closely to the real voice of the people, she can strengthen her legitimacy in ways that media approval cannot provide.
The Hope and the Risk Ahead
Takaichi’s rise places her among the ranks of conservative leaders who have gained prominence globally. Yet she is also different. She does not speak in slogans or provoke for attention. Her reputation rests on decades of consistent positions and detailed policy work.
The risks are still great. Factions within her own party may resist her leadership. Entrenched interests will seek to slow or redirect her initiatives. International pressures from China, Korea, and the United States will test her diplomacy. The media will scrutinize and sometimes distort her image. And the ever-present challenge of governing an aging, anxious society will weigh on her.
Yet she carries with her a hope that feels refreshing. People see in her the possibility of restoring traditional values while also updating them for today’s world. The task is not to reject diversity but to frame it within a coherent national identity. In the household analogy, she must calm the quarrels among family members and create a harmony that includes the guests without destroying the home.
Her safety is also a concern. The memory of Abe’s assassination lingers heavily. Leadership in today’s climate carries physical risks as well as political ones. The nation will need to ensure that her protection is strong, for her loss would be a tragedy not only to her supporters but to Japan’s democratic process itself.
From Nara to the Nation’s Future
The journey of Sanae Takaichi is more than the story of one politician. It is a lesson in perseverance, in the possibility of merit triumphing over lineage, and in the slow patience that sometimes wins in the end. She began in Nara, a place known for history and tradition, and now stands at the threshold of guiding the modern state through its uncertainties.
Her victory reminds us that leadership can emerge not only from dynasties but from faithfulness over time. She did not inherit her position, nor did she rise overnight. She endured defeats, faced setbacks, and continued to stand firm. That is the kind of story that ordinary people can respect, for it mirrors the struggles of life itself.
Now Japan looks to her for guidance. She carries the weight of tradition and the challenge of renewal. She must hold firm to values while steering the country toward a future that is both open and secure. This is no easy task, but it is one that many believe she is prepared to face.
From the ancient grounds of Nara to the office of prime minister, her path is a bridge between past and future. May she walk it with wisdom and courage.
Image: A picture captured by the author (Nara Saidaiji Station, where PM Shinzo Abe was assassinated on July 8, 2022.)
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