Voters may say sayonara to Socialists - Social Democratic Party in Japan

0 Comments | Insight on the News, Nov 28, 1994 | by Willis Witter

In the wake of the Cold War, Japan's Socialists have abandoned everything for which they've traditionally stood in exchange for what may be a fleeting taste of power.

Provided it stays together, the Social Democratic Party, led by Prime Minister Tomiichi Murayama, controls a large-enough block of votes to make or break any government. But the improbable partnership Murayama formed with the right-wing Liberal Democratic Party this summer makes about as much sense as a Republican and a Democrat running on the same ticket in the next U.S. presidential election.

"What exists now is a jumble of leftists, rightists, conservatives and liberals, all jockeying for position," says John Neuffer, a political analyst at Mitsui Marine Research Institute, a Tokyo policy group.

After winning the top slot in June, Murayama ushered in a brief period of stability in a nation that changed prime ministers four times during the previous year. But the conciliatory 70-year-old politician is appearing increasingly vulnerable. Dissidents in his own party, angered after months of ideological backsliding, are threatening to bolt and add yet another group to the dozen or so political parties vying for power. The dissidents, led by former party chairman Sadao Yamahana, recently established a group of about 40 lawmakers who oppose any move to merge with the Liberal Democrats.

The other big challenge to Murayama's government comes from a bloc of parties known as Kaikaku. The group, which includes former prime ministers Morihoro Hosokawa and Tsutomu Hata, plans to merge into a single super-opposition party before the end of the year. If the plan works, Japan would get its first real taste of two-party politics, not unlike the Democrats and Republicans in the United States.

"If the Kaikaku is successful, people will have to jump on that bandwagon or else stay with the Liberal Democrats, because no one can afford to stick out as a small, insignificant party," says Neuffer. "The reason is money."

Later this month, lawmakers are expected to pass an electoral reform law that will fund political contests with taxpayer money instead of private cash contributions. The question is, where would that leave the Socialists?

To become prime minister, Murayama sacrificed four decades of his party's left-wing dogma. The Socialists now back virtually everything they historically opposed, including the legality of Japan's armed forces, the U.S.-Japan Security Treaty, Japanese participation in U.N. peacekeeping missions, a national sales tax, nuclear power and the symbol of the rising sun on the national flag.

"Dramatic as these developments are, we should remember that those [original] positions were not formed out of real convictions or principles," says Reizo Utagawa, a scholar at Japan's Institute for International Policy Studies. "They were created by the Socialists' role as an opposition party and abandoned when the party finally got a chance to put its hands on the levers of power. Both in opposition and now in power, the Socialists fundamentally lacked legitimacy."

All that remains is the party's formal name - Nihon Shakai To - Japan Socialist Party. Several years ago, the group changed its English name to Social Democratic Party of Japan, by which it is widely known in the West.

The Socialist leader himself may have trouble being taken seriously. Just two weeks ago, Murayama stood on the deck of a Japanese destroyer, sternly reviewing a fleet of three dozen Japanese ships and submarines in windswept Sagami Bay south of Tokyo. The scene was designed to dispel rumors that poor health would force him out of office. But to many, it did little to shore up the sagging credibility of a man long opposed to the very existence of Japan's military. It reminded some of Michael Dukakis' ill-fated ride in an Army tank in the 1988 presidential contest - an image so devastating that George Bush used it in his own campaign ads.

Theoretically, Murayama could stay in power until 1997, provided he keeps his 70 Socialist lawmakers linked to the stronger liberal Democrats, who control 201 seats. Together with a smaller third party, they command 295 of 511 seats.

But the wholesale shift to the right has Socialist Paw stalwarts searching for a way to stem the decline. In last year's elections, the Socialists lost more than half of their seats, dropping from 140-plus to the present 70. The next time they face voters, many analysts expect the party to disappear altogether. "The bell tolls for the Socialists," says Neuffer. "They're pretty much finished."