Headless In Tokyo

Explanations for his and his colleagues' ineptitude abound. Some blame their failings on Japanese traditions that value seniority over performance. Others single out the rigid Japanese educational system. Still others point to deeply institutionalized cronyism in the political and business worlds, which tend to prioritize chummy dealmaking over serious policy formulation. But pretty much everyone agrees on the biggest problem. It's the LDP itself, which has singlehandedly ruled Japan, with only one brief interruption, since the party's founding in 1955. For too long, the LDP was essentially the only game in town—a result of the Cold War, when the party was set up as the only counterweight to socialist and communist parties that were anyhow too radical to appeal to mainstream voters in this conservative nation. The party also developed notably opaque ties with business, handing out lucrative public-works contracts or favorable regulation in return for political contributions. The result was a culture of backroom dealing and little accountability. The system rigged the game strongly in favor of incumbents, conformists and timeservers.

While times were good, the flaws in this setup were harder to see; during Japan's boom years, a smoothly functioning bureaucracy and a talented entrepreneurial class delivered enough growth for everyone, and the politicians just had to make sure the wealth trickled down to their constituents. The end of the Cold War, however, and the collapse of Japan's asset bubble after 1989 gradually began to expose the downside of the LDP's dominance. The increasingly sclerotic party seemed bereft of economic answers, dithering for years over how to clean up the banking sector, for example. And yet it managed to hold onto power despite its manifest lack of ideas. Virtual stasis ensued. "The LDP has been in power for so long that it can't change itself," says Masaharu Nakagawa of the opposition Democratic Party of Japan.

Things briefly looked like they might improve at the beginning of this century, when Japan's economy perked up and a glamorous reformer, LDP Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi, took the helm from 2001 to 2006. By appealing directly to the people and campaigning against his own party, Koizumi shook things up and gave great momentum to calls for change. He also drove home the notion that politicians actually can and should sell their big ideas straight to the electorate. Koizumi strengthened the prime minister's office at the expense of the bureaucracy and chipped away at the traditional LDP faction system.

Many things haven't changed. One glaring symptom is the phenomenon of so-called hereditary politicians, who have basically inherited their jobs from family members. In the past 20 years, eight prime ministers have been sons or grandsons of previous LDP politicians. According to a recent study by Japanese journalist Shiota Ushio, a full quarter of all current members of the Diet are the children of ex-legislators; among LDP lawmakers, the figure is even higher, at 40 percent. Even Koizumi, the supposed iconoclast, was a third-generation politician.

Inbreeding has produced a political class deeply out of touch with the nation. The scions attend the best schools and universities in Tokyo, returning to their "home" districts only when election time comes around—which contributes to their sense of estrangement and has inspired disgust among voters. Critics also argue that family connections have made LDP politicians soft. Abe, for example, was the son of a prominent politician and the grandson of a prime minister, and when he precipitously threw in the towel, DPJ member Keiro Kitagami says his constituents interpreted this lack of "gumption or toughness" to Abe's "pampered life."

Another expression of the LDP's oppressive clubbiness is the tendency of its leaders to appoint ministers on the basis of personal affinity rather than professional qualifications. Both Abe and Aso were accused of governing by the principle of otomodachi naikaku: "the cabinet of buddies." "This is one reason we've had such a miserable political situation over the past five years," says political analyst Takao Toshikawa.