But Junichiro Koizumi’s love affair with the public may well end in tears
Justin McCurry in Osaka
Election candidates hoping to boost their appeal queue up to be photographed with him. An elderly woman threatens to kill herself unless she is granted a brief audience. Just about everyone wants a piece of Junichiro Koizumi.
The public’s love affair with their 59-year-old prime minister is turning the traditional modus operandi of Japanese politics on its head.
Bland statements prepared by officials have been replaced by impromptu briefings by the premier himself; normally soporific parliamentary debates now make essential viewing; and posters and T-shirts bearing his features sell fast.
Japanese of all ages are so in thrall to Koizumi that it seems almost indecent to ask whether the affair will end in tears and recrimination. The answer must wait until Japan feels the impact of structural reforms announced last week.
For now, people are willing to put fears of corporate bankruptcies and job losses on hold while they enjoy the novelty of having a leader with charisma, style and a clear direction after a decade of economic gloom and political cynicism.
A poll conducted last week by the Asahi Shimbun newspaper put the new Cabinet’s approval rating at 81% Koizumi’s predecessor, Yoshiro Mori, ended a miserable year in power with less than 10%.
Koizumi has also achieved in two short months what British and American politicians have failed to do over the past year reawaken public interest in elections. In the first test of his administration, Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) candidates won the most seats in last Sunday’s Tokyo metropolitan assembly elections.
The turnout, at just more than 50%, was almost 10% higher than the record low of four years ago. A similar boost is expected in upper-house elections next month.
More than two million people have subscribed to Koizumi’s weekly e-zine since its launch two weeks ago. Extra staff have been hired to cope with the 3 000 e-mails he receives every day.
An appearance by Koizumi in the national Diet is guaranteed to boost viewing figures, with housewives abandoning the usual daytime TV fare for the latest instalment in this compelling political soap opera.
Koizumi’s walkabouts are about the nearest Tokyo gets to public disorder. People stop what they are doing and rush forward for a closer look. Even those barely old enough to vote have been swept off their feet. “He’s just such a nice guy,” gushed one young man in Tokyo.
The premier’s few minor decisions have done nothing to break the spell. Last month he surprised everyone by admitting Japan had been wrong to forcibly isolate its lepers, a practice that continued until 1996.
Earlier this month, after a knifeman murdered eight children at a primary school in Osaka, he was on camera to share in the country’s sorrow and anger. By contrast last February, Mori continued his game of golf after being told that a Japanese fishing vessel carrying teenage trainees had been sunk off Hawaii.
But the media fascination with Koizumi’s style and his “unconventional” personal life (he divorced in 1982 and has two sons) may not be able to drown out discussion of policy for much longer. In a recent editorial Asahi said: “All that has changed about the LDP over the last few months is the face of its leader. Koizumi’s popularity has merely concealed the LDP’s defects.”
Opposition parties are regrouping. Yukio Hatoyama, leader of the Democratic Party, has vowed to grill Koizumi on his “half-hearted” reform proposals, and Kiyomi Tsujimoto, an outspoken Social Democratic MP, has written a book denouncing the unhealthy personality cult forming around the prime minister.
But the people most likely to burst Koizumi’s bubble come from within. The LDP’s own “forces of conservatism” are alarmed by plans to court urban voters after decades of depending on rural support, and to privatise the post office, slash banks’ bad loans and end the country’s addiction to public works projects.
In an interview before he became leader, Koizumi was asked to describe his political style. “It’s like nobody else’s in Japan. It’s unique, extraordinary,” he said. On that, at least, everyone can agree.