Opinion Sanae Takaichi and the return of Japanese conservatism

Cut to the 2025 election, and she was the undeniable frontrunner. Her persistence made her the inevitable choice. But what does Takaichi truly represent, and what deeper convictions drive her political persona?

Japanese Conservatism

Takaichi belongs to Japan’s revisionist conservative tradition, which emerged after World War II among thinkers and politicians seeking to reclaim Japan’s “lost pride.” Her politics echoes the philosophy of Nippon Kaigi, the Shinto-influenced lobby advocating constitutional revision, moral education, and reverence for the emperor.

To Takaichi, the 1947 Constitution, drafted by the US, constrained Japan’s soul as much as its sovereignty. Her political project is, thus, to reverse that cultural emasculation and restore Japan’s autonomy.

In essence, Takaichi’s worldview is restorative rather than revolutionary, a call to rebuild the old order, not to disrupt it. She views the nation not just as a political entity, but as a moral community. Her speeches often frame the government’s role as nurturing “discipline” and “social harmony”, frequently citing how a strong country begins with strong families and shared values.

The Legacy of Abe

Takaichi’s rise cannot be understood without grasping her long and loyal relationship with Shinzo Abe, Japan’s longest-serving prime minister. Both entered the Diet in 1993 and shared a belief that Japan’s pacifist identity had stifled its national spirit. Abe elevated Takaichi to several key cabinet positions, including Minister for Gender Equality in 2006 and Minister for Internal Affairs and Communications from 2014-17.

Through these appointments, Abe recognised in Takaichi a disciplined technocrat who could translate ideology into policy. If she helped amplify Abe’s message, he, in turn, helped legitimise her ascent. By 2021, when she contested the LDP presidency, his public endorsement transformed her from a fringe nationalist to a mainstream contender.

Abe was a realist, and so is Takaichi. Flowing directly from her nationalism is the conviction that Japan must possess a military commensurate with its status as a major economic power.

The Paradox of Representation

Under Abe’s tenure, Takaichi expanded institutional frameworks, such as the 2015 Act on the Promotion of Women’s Participation and Advancement in the Workplace. This required corporations to publish gender data and adopt inclusion plans. She also advanced childcare expansion and flexible work arrangements, boosting female labour participation from 63 to 70 per cent over the following decade.

It is tempting to read Takaichi’s rise as a triumph for women in Japanese politics. But her vision of empowerment is instrumental, not emancipatory. She opposes same-sex marriage, separate surnames for spouses, and female imperial succession, framing equality as an economic necessity, not a human right. Women’s inclusion, she argued, was necessary to offset labour shortages and sustain growth.

Japan ranks 118th out of 146 countries in the World Economic Forum’s Global Gender Gap Report 2024, especially low in political empowerment and economic participation. Women occupy less than 15 per cent of parliamentary seats, and corporate leadership remains overwhelmingly male.

While she has pledged to appoint more women to her cabinet, her policy positions reflect a more traditionalist view of gender roles, in line with the patriarchal norms of her party’s old guard. Hence, her rise cracks the ceiling but leaves its structure intact. She is allowed to succeed precisely because she does not challenge the system.

Taro Aso as Anchor

To consolidate power, Takaichi has turned to Tarō Aso, the veteran finance minister and former prime minister, appointing him LDP Vice President. Aso’s faction provides her government with credibility and institutional ballast. Under Abe, Aso was the guardian of Abenomics and the LDP’s most experienced coalition broker.

As Vice President and leader of a faction, he retains leverage to influence decisions, appointments, and internal party debates. His faction’s support was among the bases that supported Takaichi’s leadership. Yet this also limits her independence, since any overreach in fiscal populism could invite quiet resistance from Aso’s powerful faction.

The Reluctant Partner

Her greater constraint, however, lies outside the LDP. Japan’s governing coalition depends on Komeito, the pacifist, centrist party backed by the Buddhist organisation Soka Gakkai. Since 1999, Komeito has partnered with the LDP in coalition governments, acting as a moderating force. The party generally relies on the group’s votes to maintain majority control.

Immediately after Takaichi’s victory, Komeito leader Tetsuo Saito expressed unease about her visits to Yasukuni Shrine, a symbol of Japan’s wartime past, warning against hardline positions on immigration. There are also hints that Komeito may withhold or condition backing if Takaichi pursues policies that are too far removed from their platform. Given that the coalition’s stability depends on Komeito’s support, this gives them leverage.

Takaichi’s worldview can be summarised in three intertwined imperatives. First, her aim is to restore Japan’s self-respect through constitutional, cultural, and educational reform. Second, to secure its autonomy through economic self-reliance and military preparedness. Third, to build a so-called moralistic society through family, faith, and discipline.

As a female leader in a traditionally male-dominated environment, she faces heightened scrutiny and expectations to defy gendered norms. In a way, she personifies what feminist theorists call a patriarchal bargain, where power is achieved through compliance rather than resistance. Yet, her visibility redefines what female authority can look like in Japan and in a society where only one in 10 Diet members is female, that visibility matters.

The writer is research analyst, Indo-Pacific Studies Programme, Takshashila Institute