Japan's Political Crossroads: Why the Liberal Democratic Party's Decades-Long Dominance is Crumbling

Foreign arrivals have sparked frustrations that opposition parties have strategically leveraged against the ruling party.

At 74, Haruo Tsukamoto confronts the most challenging political decision of his lifetime: selecting Japan's next prime minister and questioning his decades-long party loyalty.

As one of nearly a million rank-and-file Liberal Democratic Party members eligible to vote in the October 4 leadership contest, this sixth-generation rice farmer from Ibaraki faces a deeply personal dilemma. The LDP has dominated Japanese politics throughout most of the post-war period, with its leader traditionally assuming the role of prime minister.

However, this dominance is weakening significantly.

Tsukamoto once held outgoing leader Shigeru Ishiba, a former agriculture minister with rural connections, in high regard. Now he questions whether the party continues to represent people like himself. The government's summer release of rice reserves to control domestic prices left many farmers feeling that urban consumers received priority over agricultural producers.

"LDP membership offers little benefit these days," Tsukamoto remarked, noting the contrast between minimal financial support for today's farmers compared to decades ago when the party boasted over 5 million members and demonstrated robust support for rural communities.

The upcoming party election represents more than selecting a prime minister. It occurs as the LDP loses grip on the voter base that sustained its long-term dominance. Escalating living costs, party funding scandals, youth migration to urban centers, and emerging populist and far-right challengers have collectively eroded its traditional support foundation.

Additionally, increasing foreign arrivals—primarily tourists—have fueled public frustration that opposition parties have quickly exploited. Within months, the ruling LDP coalition has lost majorities in both parliamentary houses, while smaller populist parties have gained ground through direct, simplified messaging.

"We can no longer rely on guaranteed voting blocs," noted Hirokatsu Suda, a 58-year-old LDP councilor in Mito, Ibaraki's capital. "As a 30-year LDP member, I've never witnessed such challenging times for our party."

The next leader will be evaluated on both policy agenda and ability to unite a fractured party while developing workable relationships with opposition groups. Their success will determine whether Japan regains political stability or descends further into uncertainty. The outcome will shape Tokyo's approach to external challenges, from managing US-China relations to strengthening regional security. Domestically, it will decide whether Japan maintains fiscal discipline or returns to stimulus-driven economic strategies.

Five candidates compete for leadership, with the race primarily between Shinjiro Koizumi, a 44-year-old reformist with urban appeal, and Sanae Takaichi, a 64-year-old right-wing candidate promising enhanced economic support and regional assistance.

In last year's leadership contest, Ibaraki supported Ishiba over both Koizumi and Takaichi. With Ishiba no longer participating, the prefecture's support remains contested.

Koizumi proposes raising wages by 1 million yen ($6,763) by 2030, revitalizing regional prefectures through new industrial development, and maintaining central bank independence in monetary policy. He is the son of former Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi, who privatized Japan's postal system two decades ago—a reform remembered in Ibaraki for its impact on rural employment and services.

Investors express greater concern about Takaichi's potential victory. She likely would increase spending to stimulate growth and favors distributing funds to local governments to combat inflation. Critics worry she might impede the Bank of Japan's interest rate normalization efforts.

Other candidates include Yoshimasa Hayashi, 64, the current chief government spokesperson, viewed as representing continuity and proposing a UK-style universal credit program for struggling households. Takayuki Kobayashi, a 50-year-old conservative, advocates temporary income tax reductions. Toshimitsu Motegi, 69, an experienced foreign minister, emphasizes creating positive investment cycles to generate growth.

Only two candidates will advance beyond the first round, determined by votes from regional LDP members and parliamentary lawmakers. The second round gives parliamentary lawmakers greater voting weight. Recent polls indicate Takaichi and Koizumi lead significantly among rank-and-file members, while Koizumi and Hayashi lead among legislators—though many lawmakers remain undecided.

The winner will almost certainly become prime minister following a parliamentary vote, as opposition parties apparently failed to unite behind a single candidate earlier this week.

Whoever succeeds won't inherit a strong governmental position. The LDP recently lost its majority in both parliamentary chambers and must govern as a minority. Consequently, sweeping reforms appear unlikely. The LDP has frequently replaced leaders after approximately one year to project an image of change.

This instability has created opportunities for rival parties. The far-right Sanseito party, established only five years ago, shocked the establishment by securing the second-highest vote total in July's upper house election. Its slogans—"Japanese First" and "Don't Break Japan Any Further!"—have resonated with disillusioned conservatives, particularly in rural regions.

In Ibaraki, LDP councilor Suda recalls urging voters to maintain party support, only to discover they cast ballots for Sanseito instead.

Naoko Takahashi, an LDP representative in Ibaraki's prefectural assembly, notes the party has steadily lost support since former Prime Minister Shinzo Abe's 2022 assassination. "Our shift too far left drove right-wing voters away," she explained.

In Tsukamoto's hometown of Joso, LDP support is visibly declining. As younger generations migrated to Tokyo, farms faced labor shortages. Through Japan Agricultural Cooperatives, Tsukamoto helped recruit Chinese workers to address this gap. Today, foreign residents constitute approximately 10% of the town's population.

Most work diligently, he acknowledges, though some create problems. For years, residents accepted this compromise to sustain agricultural operations.

However, Sanseito's strict anti-immigration stance has found receptive audiences. Tsukamoto worries about potential consequences. Without foreign workers, "farming will collapse here and throughout Japan," he cautioned.

In fields surrounding his home, farmers in straw hats harvest rice using traditional methods while tractors traverse the landscape. LDP posters line straight farm roads—reminders of the party's once-unshakable rural influence.

Yoshinori Iita, 40, cultivates rice, wheat, and soybeans across approximately 370 acres in Joso, much leased from neighbors who abandoned farming after prolonged periods of insufficient prices.

"Various food prices are increasing. Why is rice uniquely treated as problematic?" he questioned.

As a registered LDP member, Iita plans to support Kobayashi in the leadership contest. During July's election, he voted for the Democratic Party for the People, an opposition group focused on increasing disposable income. The LDP secured 24% of Ibaraki's vote, followed by Sanseito at 14.2% and the DPP at 13.7%.

"Honestly, I'd accept any party except the LDP currently," he added.

In Mito city, Shuichi Nakayama holds different perspectives. A road construction professional who joined the LDP decades ago, Nakayama remembers when construction contractors and the party were virtually synonymous. For decades, road builders thrived under the LDP's patronage politics, which allocated budgets and projects to regions during Japan's economic boom.

After founding his company, Shuwa Planning, Nakayama remained a loyal LDP supporter, dedicating years to door-to-door canvassing and telephone campaigning for party candidates. Despite Japan's economic stagnation and flattened construction demand, the LDP's conservative values continued aligning with his own.

For him, only Takaichi can restore what he describes as the party's "authentic right-wing ideology."

"If the LDP rebrands itself with someone like Koizumi, we'll never reclaim those founding principles," he stated.

Some voters have simply abandoned hope. Less than a mile from Mito Station, 78-year-old restaurant owner Ritsuko Kotani has decorated her storefront with Sanseito posters. "The LDP would be better off collapsing completely," she remarked.

For many party members, survival now requires compromise. During last year's LDP contest, both Koizumi and Takaichi campaigned as disruptors. This year, both have moderated their positions. They recognize that the winner, inheriting a fragile minority government, will require allied support to advance policies.

Even 41-year-old lawmakers like Takahashi struggle with LDP representation. She abandoned plans for a dental practice to enter politics, believing more women and parents should participate in policymaking.

Facing prefectural assembly re-election next year, she reveals some supporters urge her not to campaign under the LDP banner. "I currently cannot ask people to support the LDP, especially younger voters or peers," she admitted. "It's difficult now to confidently identify with the 'LDP'."

In Joso, Tsukamoto sits beneath a calendar featuring Ishiba's smiling image, torn between LDP loyalty and doubts about its future.

"Perhaps the current multi-party policy environment represents the appropriate direction," Tsukamoto reflected. "If the LDP regains exclusive power, it might simply revert to unaccountable governance."