No sooner had Japan’s opposition parties proffered their unity in the midst of the national emergency following last week’s powerful earthquake than the same players were resuming the finger pointing and sniping of old, nipping cheers over bipartisan cooperation in the bud and showing why Japan and other regional democracies have been at a standstill.
Initially there was reason for optimism that the political landscape could have been fundamentally altered after the magnitude of the catastrophe became more obvious to all. Amid what Tokyo has called the worst calamity to hit the nation since World War II, the Democratic Party of Japan and its main rival, the Liberal Democratic Party, decided to put differences aside and agreed to discuss an emergency tax increase to fund disaster relief.
As related bills must be passed by April 1 to ensure the swift implementation of the massive relief package that will be required for reconstruction, such unity was essential, and on Sunday Japan’s second-largest opposition party, the New Komeito, said it was also willing to cooperate.
This contrasted sharply with the situation on Friday, where hours before the magnitude 8.9 earthquake hit off the east coast of Japan, sparking a major tsunami, both opposition parties were calling for the resignation of Japanese Prime Minister Naoto Kan, seen as deeply unpopular and accused of illegally receiving campaign funds.
That came after weeks of political skirmishing that had prevented Kan — the fifth prime minister in Japan since 2006 — from crafting policies to fund the rising costs of a fast-ageing society, curb public debt twice the size of the economy and spur growth as the population shrinks.
Sunday’s unity, therefore, was reason for hope that parties would put their differences aside long enough to deal with the aftermath of the tsunami and the risks of a meltdown at the Fukushima Dai-ichi nuclear power station.
Sadly, even the likely 10,000-plus casualties were insufficient to make unity last, and hours later sniping resumed, this time over the Japanese government’s handling of the catastrophe and allegations that it had briefly covered up the threat emanating from the nuclear power station.
No wonder Japan has fallen behind and lost its dynamism of old, rife as it is with seeming unbridgeable divisions and endless infighting for short-term political gain. If a major catastrophe such as the one that hit on the weekend can only provide a brief hiatus in habitual sniping, then there is little reason not to believe that a few weeks hence Japan will return to its state of stupor, unable to make the contributions to the region that such a power should be making.
The quake will recede into memory, but the challenges to the region, from future natural catastrophes to the uncertainties created by China’s rise, will not disappear. Only when politicians put an end to their juvenile pitched battles, roll up their sleeves and strive toward a clearly defined goal can those challenges be met and surmounted.
Taiwan, which faces challenges of its own, has fared little better, and possibly even worse, than has Japan in terms of summoning unity in the face of natural crises. More often than not, its political forces have been divided and are canceling each other out for sheer political gain — usually the next local or national elections.
We should all bear in mind that future crises, from Chinese expansionism to the forces of nature, do not face such internal divisions and take advantage of factionalism in others.
On Friday, Mother Nature provided us yet another reminder of the risks of disunity. Will we ever learn?
Jan. 1 marks a decade since China repealed its one-child policy. Just 10 days before, Peng Peiyun (彭珮雲), who long oversaw the often-brutal enforcement of China’s family-planning rules, died at the age of 96, having never been held accountable for her actions. Obituaries praised Peng for being “reform-minded,” even though, in practice, she only perpetuated an utterly inhumane policy, whose consequences have barely begun to materialize. It was Vice Premier Chen Muhua (陳慕華) who first proposed the one-child policy in 1979, with the endorsement of China’s then-top leaders, Chen Yun (陳雲) and Deng Xiaoping (鄧小平), as a means of avoiding the
As the Chinese People’s Liberation Army (PLA) races toward its 2027 modernization goals, most analysts fixate on ship counts, missile ranges and artificial intelligence. Those metrics matter — but they obscure a deeper vulnerability. The true future of the PLA, and by extension Taiwan’s security, might hinge less on hardware than on whether the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) can preserve ideological loyalty inside its own armed forces. Iran’s 1979 revolution demonstrated how even a technologically advanced military can collapse when the social environment surrounding it shifts. That lesson has renewed relevance as fresh unrest shakes Iran today — and it should
The last foreign delegation Nicolas Maduro met before he went to bed Friday night (January 2) was led by China’s top Latin America diplomat. “I had a pleasant meeting with Qiu Xiaoqi (邱小琪), Special Envoy of President Xi Jinping (習近平),” Venezuela’s soon-to-be ex-president tweeted on Telegram, “and we reaffirmed our commitment to the strategic relationship that is progressing and strengthening in various areas for building a multipolar world of development and peace.” Judging by how minutely the Central Intelligence Agency was monitoring Maduro’s every move on Friday, President Trump himself was certainly aware of Maduro’s felicitations to his Chinese guest. Just
In the US’ National Security Strategy (NSS) report released last month, US President Donald Trump offered his interpretation of the Monroe Doctrine. The “Trump Corollary,” presented on page 15, is a distinctly aggressive rebranding of the more than 200-year-old foreign policy position. Beyond reasserting the sovereignty of the western hemisphere against foreign intervention, the document centers on energy and strategic assets, and attempts to redraw the map of the geopolitical landscape more broadly. It is clear that Trump no longer sees the western hemisphere as a peaceful backyard, but rather as the frontier of a new Cold War. In particular,