Writing about Japanese politics from Nagatacho, the country¡¯s political center, grants you the privilege of observing and meeting a myriad of different people.
When lawmakers are back in town from their constituencies for parliament, a unique blend of humanity walks the corridors of power: bureaucrats in staid suits on their way to brief lawmakers, freshly-elected mayors on a pilgrimage to the mighty, former politicians on their way to redemption after a loss, secretaries carrying paper bags filled with presents. You name it.
The politicians themselves, too, can be quite a different crowd.
In 2021, Shizuka Kamei, a former Liberal Democratic Party heavyweight, authored a book whose title roughly translates as ¡°Nagatacho Zoo: The 101 People Who Ruined Japan,¡± published by Kodansha. The comparison has always seemed apt to me.
¡°What¡¯s common sense in Nagatacho is nonsense to the rest of the world¡± is a refrain often cited by political pundits on Japanese TV.
But understanding the dynamics of power requires looking at where that power originates ¡ª in elections.
It goes without saying that elections are of paramount importance even to the most veteran of politicians. Politicians with a poor electoral record are given the cold shoulder when push comes to shove.
It often takes them years to build a solid support base in their constituencies, or even decades for those who have to work their way up without counting on name recognition or ample funds.
But it can take much less for that base to crumble.
I got a sense of that hours into a business trip to Wakayama Prefecture in October 2024.
I was there to cover the local race for a Lower House seat. The contest pitted the LDP¡¯s Nobuyasu Nikai, the third son of Toshihiro Nikai, a retiring politician who wielded enormous political power in the 2010s, against Hiroshige Seko, a heavyweight with a disproportionate influence over the LDP¡¯s Upper House caucus but who was kicked out of the party for his involvement in a slush fund scandal.
I tried to gauge the mood of the audience as I listened to Seko¡¯s pitch with a few dozen bystanders.
A man in his 40s approached me and blurted out his frustrations toward the Nikai clan for neglecting their constituents for decades. Two days later a shop owner told me that they see Toshihiro Nikai just a few times a year.
In a district that hadn¡¯t seen a competitive election in decades, the election was the talk of the town.
An elderly woman tried to persuade her friend to vote for Nikai at a cafe. A member of Seko¡¯s entourage sat in an izakaya talking with local constituents. Candidates traveled to far-flung rural hamlets to...
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