Cue the Liberal Democratic Party’s perennial Game of Thrones-esque battle for the “Iron Throne” of party president – a position currently synonymous with Japan’s prime minister. On August 14, Prime Minister Kishida Fumio announced that he will not seek re-election as the LDP president after his three-year term, which ends in September. Unlike the U.S. Democratic Party’s collective sigh of relief when President Joe Biden announced his withdrawal from the 2024 presidential race, Kishida’s announcement came with little fanfare; it was more a question of when, not if, he would drop out.
There is no doubt that Kishida has not been the leader to boost the party’s popularity. Not long after taking office in 2022, speculation had been rife about a “post-Kishida” era of the LDP. Kishida has spent the last 14 months with an approval rate below 30 percent; his Cabinet’s approval rating reached a low of 14 percent earlier in the year following a damaging slush fund scandal. In Japan, local and by-elections are typically a litmus test of the ruling party’s popularity. So when the LDP lost three lower house by-elections in April, with one of those seats belonging to an LDP incumbent, fingers were pointed straight at Kishida.
But Kishida’s unpopularity merely follows a string of incidents that highlight the LDP’s self-serving use of its power to put its own affairs above the interests of the public (kanson minpi). For example, former Prime Minister Abe Shinzo refused to offer public explanations in the face of allegations of political corruption. Then in 2021 Suga Yoshihide, Abe’s successor, doubled down on undemocratic behavior by refusing to recall parliament from its recess after a constitutionally-mandated request from over one-quarter of lower house members. The reason: He was too busy with the LDP’s presidential election.
Recently, political philosopher Uchida Tatsuru blamed the LDP’s dismissive attitude toward democratic conventions for the historically high number of fringe candidates in the July 2024 Tokyo gubernatorial election. Referring to the fringe candidates as “democracy hackers,” Uchida argued that the LDP’s ignoring of democratic practices has created a deficit of political maturity in the public sphere, which in turn allows self-serving parties and politicians to take advantage of the public’s growing disinterest in politics.
With a general election due to be scheduled sometime in the next year, the opposition parties moved quickly to gain some sort of advantage from Kishida’s withdrawal. The leader of the Constitutional Democratic Party, the main opposition party, said that the LDP presidential election is just another reset of the party, a “trick” to avoid the public’s criticisms. The head of the Japanese Communist Party echoed this sentiment, saying that “nothing will change as long as a government rotates only within the LDP.”
In other words, the collective message from the opposition is that while the LDP monopolizes the government machinery it will continue to serve its own, not the public’s, interests. So, what is the LDP doing to convince the public otherwise?
On August 22, Hirai Takuya, the LDP’s head of public relations, launched “The Match” campaign, the party’s public messaging surrounding the presidential election. The Match is highlighted by a pictorial collage visualizing LDP leadership with former prime ministers. The black-and-white coloring creates a sense of historicity, while each figure’s size is dependent on their impact during office. Perhaps in the appeal to a digitally conscious public, Hirai also boasted that AI was utilized in creating the image.
As for the catchphrase, the LDP explained that it has multiple meanings. Supposedly it refers to the competitive “match” of the leadership election. It is also supposed to suggest a “match” to ignite growth and the aim to “match” the public’s needs to LDP policy. Apart from promoting leadership, the poster is also designed to indicate the LDP’s difference from the opposition while attempting to boost support.
Yet, despite the LDP’s best attempts, the disconnect between LDP leadership elections and the public has never been clearer. Already, public views on “The Match” suggest that they are not sure what the point of the campaign is, nor what the LDP is trying to say. Even voices from within the party suggest that the message misses the point of trying to revive the LDP’s image. Rather, with its heavy emphasis on the past, the campaign is surely a slap in the face to anyone hoping that this election will result in meaningful change within the LDP.
One of the messages the LDP is trying to send to the public with ”The Match” campaign is that this presidential election is for the people. The first LDP member to announce their candidacy was Kobayashi Takayuki, former economic security minister. He will run as an independent candidate “without being bound to factions,” which he claims “will symbolize the LDP’s seriousness about changing itself.”
Not since 1999, when then-presidential candidate Koizumi Junichiro vowed to “destroy the LDP” (Jimintō wo bukkuwosu) – a reference to overcoming factional politics – has there been a direct indication that the LDP’s factional politics will take a backseat to real policy issues. Yet Kobayashi is the outlier thus far. Since Kishida’s announcement that he is stepping aside in the upcoming election, stories of factional alliances and maneuvering have dominated the news.
For instance, since indicating he will contest for the LDP presidency, Kono Taro has drawn ire from Abe faction members for his suggestion of returning the money from the recent slush fund scandal. There are even schisms within factions, with Kono’s faction leader, Aso Taro, indicating he will not lend his support to the minister for digital transformation.
This stands in stark contrast to the United States’ Democratic Party’s show of unity to nominate Kamala Harris as the party’s presidential candidate after Biden withdrew from the race. Instead, what we see within the LDP is more reminiscent of the United Kingdom’s 2022 Conservative Party leadership election, when candidates from neoliberal and right-wing factions fought over who would captain the sinking Tory ship.
When asked about her initial impressions of “The Match” campaign at the LDP headquarters, the LDP’s Inoguchi Kuniko simply said “there are no women.” The poster indeed serves as a striking visual reminder that Japan has never had a female prime minister.
Three women – Foreign Minister Kamikawa Yoko, Economic Security Minister Takaichi Sanae, and Noda Seiko – are in the fray, but all are seen as long-shot candidates in a crowded field. Even securing support from enough legislators to register their candidacies has proven difficult.
Again, there is a disconnect between public sentiment and the messaging from the top. The LDP needs to improve its image of gender-inclusive leadership, but instead its power seems to idolize the “glory days” of a male-dominated LDP. Amid the need for Japan to improve its internationally poor record of women in leadership positions and the public’s attitudes toward them, “The Match” campaign’s visual theme is hardly doing anything to help.
Given that many of the leaders on the poster led Japan through three “lost decades,” the public relations campaign carries a heavy burden. Perhaps if the LDP’s PR team considered trying to “match” the party’s record with reality, they might close the gap between the leadership election and public concern.