I guess the health of a democracy is a relative matter. True, a country that has consistently held democratic elections for the past sixty plus years without any authoritarian takeover or other temporary emergency political arrangements sounds like a sufficiently healthy democracy. But I am slightly terrified of recent political developments in Japan that seem to demonstrate an utter disregard of the rule of law and democratic principles by the leaders of the nation.
Very few people realize that Japanese democracy is facing dangerous times. Within Japan, the main concern that has been raised consistently in the mainstream media has been the disturbingly low voter turnout. The issue of unconstitutional malapportionment (which the Supreme Court apparently does not consider a sufficient basis to invalidate election results conducted under those conditions) has been largely an issue for lawmakers and lawyers. And the general public, though many have been disillusioned by the current administration, have become apathetic about engaging in the political process in the first place (hence the low turnout). But another fundamental problem was exposed through the recent snap election, which resulted in Prime Minister Abe retaining his ruling coalition's super-majority in the lower house, allowing him to pass laws without the support of the upper house.
The problem that only few people seem to want to confront is the fact that Japan's entrenched political class hasn't demonstrated a healthy degree of respect for the rule of law or for the basic principles of democracy. Sure, I don't think that lawmakers are concerned solely about holding onto power and, as misguided I believe their policies to be, they probably have at least some kind of belief that the policies they are pursuing are good for Japan. But a democratic government isn't supposed to ignore the will of the people . And democratic leaders are not supposed to manipulate the timing of elections so as to prevent the main opposition from even running candidates in the majority of districts and thereby discourage its already disillusioned populace from participation. They are certainly not supposed to proudly claim a mandate of the people when a large number of voters decided not to vote.
Abe's questionable commitment to constitutional democracy and the rule of law is demonstrated even further by his very decision to call a snap election when he did. Normally, the Japanese prime minister can decide to call a snap election as a way to appeal to the people when the lower house passes a resolution of non-confidence or rejects a confidence resolution against the cabinet. These are the scenarios envisioned by Article 69 of the Constitution, and it seems to be the only ones that was originally intended by the drafters. As a result of precedent decided in relation to a 1952 snap election, however, the authority to call a snap election has been expanded under Article 7 which gives the Emperor the duty to proclaim the dissolution of the Diet (which is considered a matter of the state rather than a political act) with the "advice and approval" of the cabinet. Even under this expanded interpretation, there was past snap elections have been accepted because, according to Japanese legal expert Nobuo Gohara, they did not disrupt the principle of separation of powers.
As Gohara explains, however, this snap election is different from past snap elections that were called without a non-confidence resolution or rejection of a confidence resolution. There was no rejection of a budget or major defense/national security bill that could be interpreted as the equivalent of a vote of non-confidence. Instead, Abe called a snap election when he already had a super-majority and did so purposely at the worst possible time for the opposition. Gohara describes this act as the equivalent of stomping on an opponent who has fallen down in the course of a boxing match and argues that its seemingly legal nature does not mean that it does not violate a hard-and-fast rule. Before the election, he expressed concern that the resulting overwhelming concentration of power within one faction could result in the loss of a basic principle of the Japanese Constitution (the separation of powers).
A problem with the legal precedent permitting snap elections outside the literal scope of Article 69 under Article 7 is that there is no articulated restriction on that power. Presumably, a snap election cannot violate another provision of the Constitution, but Gohara's argument points out a serious deficiency in the current state of law surrounding snap elections, and there is, indeed, a grave concern over the fact that a snap election can be called without a serious justification. The Japanese judiciary tends to take a non-interventionist stance and has, since the early post-war years, stopped short of critically addressing issues that it has deemed highly political matters. (It should be noted that this stance has generally benefited and continues to benefit Abe's conservative Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) which has effectively dominated postwar politics, save for a short three-year period when the population flirted with the disastrous rule of the LDP's main opposition, the Democratic Party of Japan (DPJ).) Predictably, the Supreme Court has not indicated whether there may be any limit on the authority of the prime minister to call a snap election, thereby leaving the Japanese government and the Japanese people without a clear legal framework that can be used to determine whether the dissolution of the lower house in a particular instance complies with the Constitution (i.e., the supreme law of the nation). As a result, many of those who question the propriety and decry the "unconstitutionality" of the latest election have largely been confined to making ethics-based arguments and using the term "unconstitutionality" without the backing of a honed legal argument, even though it seems clear that the dissolution raised questions about basic democratic principles enshrined in the Constitution.
This democratically and, in my opinion, constitutionally problematic election comes at a time when the rule of law and respect for democracy in Japan was already under threat. Earlier this year, Abe gutted Article 9, the Japanese Constitution's famous "peace clause," by a cabinet decision "reinterpreting" the provision to permit "collective self-defense." The contentious argument over what to do with Article 9 aside, this process employed by Abe is extremely disturbing. The Japanese Constitution sets out a clear process for amendment in Article 96: the amendment must be supported by a two-thirds majority in both houses of the Diet and ratified by a national referendum. Constitutional reinterpretation is a method that has been employed by past governments, but it is clear that there is very little appetite for collective self-defense among the Japanese population. A constitutional revision of Article 9 through proper channels would be cumbersome and presumably challenging (as it should be since it is the revision of the supreme law of the land). The use of reinterpretation in this case was nothing more than a maneuver to sidestep the constitutional process. This may be news to many Japanese politicians, but the Constitution is not a formalistic document. The inconveniences it imposes on those in certain positions of government are there for a reason, and they are not there to be disregarded when a political agenda doesn't have the proper support.
As if this isn't bad enough, Abe has attempted to take a two-step approach to achieve the ultimate revision of Article 9 by first revising Article 96 to lower the number of votes required in the Diet for a constitutional amendment. Revision of Article 96 seemed unlikely to garner support according to past opinion polls, but after his coalition's victory in the snap election, he may take aim at Article 96 again (with the end goal of revising Article 9). It seems that Abe wants to remove the checks that have been imposed through the constitutional process to make it easier for him to push through his political agenda that may not have sufficient support among the people of Japan. To him, the supreme law of the land is a mere inconvenience that can be dealt with through political maneuvers.
You would think that in a democratic country, a sufficient number of people would be angry enough to be moved to action. Unfortunately in Japan, dissatisfaction seems to lead more to disillusionment or one-off complaints. There is very little sense and desire for civic involvement in the Japanese societal fabric. People often to express that they would ultimately "defer" to politicians and bureaucrats when it comes to issues of law, even when they have some kind of opinion, because they feel that they do not have the expertise in law to have a proper understanding. (If it weren't for the terrifying implications, it would be refreshing from the perspective of a legal professional who lives in a country where everyone seems to loudly assert their opinions on issues of law that they demonstrably do not understand.) One theory of this "deference" to authority is that it comes from a cultural attachment to political systems that were long based on political authorities (whether the Emperor or feudal lords) ruling over regular folk. Japan, despite a short period of vibrant liberalism and democracy in the early 20th century, was kind of shoved into democracy without proper practice. Japanese democracy hasn't been too shabby, and like I said in the beginning, it is doing relatively well, but the Japanese people don't seem to understand that it is with them which sovereignty resides under the Constitution. There is very little sense of civic engagement and the idea that the people can bring about political change. As a result, government leaders can take constitutionally and democratically questionable actions with little consequences, even if the people are aware of them.
I want to make it perfectly clear that I have no intention of calling Abe a fascist or a dictator (at least not so far). Honestly, as far as people who disregard democratic principles go, Japanese political leaders who do so tend to be pretty polite (so far). However, that does not mean that any government leader who tramples on the Constitution or disregard democratic principles should be allowed to masquerade on as democratic leaders. The Japanese people need to wake up and take their righteous place as the sovereign of Japan.
Now, am I being overly dramatic? Part of me sincerely hopes so because that means that Japan can bounce back as a healthy democracy. But I am worried. The country has fallen into its fourth recession since 2008. Abe's nationalist positions have invited a great deal of suspicion from Japan's neighbors at a time when relations remain tense. Ultra-nationalists are on the offensive. Immigration is increasingly necessary to support a graying population, but a strong cultural aversion remains. Combined with all these factors, a government that does not respect democratic principles and is unwilling to be reigned in by its people is vulnerable to the influence of extremists.
What's scary is that very few people in Japan seem to be talking about accountability. Sure, there are people who raise voices of anger and argue why Abe's actions were unconstitutional or even just undemocratic. But there is little talk of accountability and concrete steps that are to be taken to hold Abe accountable. These voices seem to be drowned out by apathy and disillusionment with both the ruling coalition and opposition parties which caused so many voters to stay home. Many people don't like Abe, but they don't like the alternatives either. With little civic-mindedness, there seems to be no movement to take alternative (non-electoral) steps to bring attention to the Abe's problematic actions. Maybe the problem is that most Japanese persons are only taught about political participation through the education system which is heavily influenced by the powers-that-be. I don't really have a good solution to that. Not yet, at least.
