Japan's First Lady Isn't Shy About Criticizing Policy
One of the most widely quoted policy critics of Shinzo Abe, the Prime Minister of Japan, is his wife.
Dec. 6, 2013 10:34 p.m. ET
TOKYO—After winning two landslide elections
over the past year, Japan's popular, powerful prime minister, Shinzo
Abe, faces little parliamentary opposition. One of his most widely
quoted policy critics runs a tiny pub named "UZU," or "Tidal Swirl,"
hidden among the back streets of a dowdy Tokyo commercial neighborhood.
"I don't want agriculture to be
treated like industrial products," the 51-year-old proprietor said one
recent afternoon, explaining her antipathy to Mr. Abe's signature
free-trade pact aimed at subjecting farmers to global competition. In
her establishment, with just two dozen seats and a narrow open kitchen,
she serves customers her organic "Akie Rice" grown in her "Akie Paddy"
located back in the prime minister's own rural district.
When
she's not running her pub, Akie Abe carries out her official duties as
Japan's first lady, greeting dignitaries and presenting awards. But the
tart-tongued wife of the prime minister hasn't been afraid to offer her
honest—often critical—opinions of her husband's policies, like the time
she declared herself in a speech to be "the opposition in the household"
over his staunch advocacy of nuclear power less than three years after
the Fukushima disaster.
"There's no
guarantee another accident won't happen," Mrs. Abe told The Wall Street
Journal in her first interview with a foreign media organization since
her husband took power nearly a year ago. An avid user of Facebook who
posts accounts of her daily activities from her smartphone, she once
uploaded a photo of the carcass of a cow left in the evacuation zone
that she had taken herself.
So far, Mrs. Abe seems to have had
little sway over Mr. Abe's policy-making. But she has angered supporters
and energized foes. Some Japanese media have called her Mr. Abe's
liability, others his secret weapon, helping stoke his high support
rate.
The first lady's anti-nuke
comments prompted an opposition lawmaker to chide Mr. Abe, 59, for
failing to form a consensus even in his inner circle. From the floor of
the legislative chamber, the parliament member held up a panel
displaying photos of Mrs. Abe and former Prime Minister Junichiro
Koizumi, Mr. Abe's mentor, who has also recently attacked nuclear power.
"I must admit those two are extremely
important figures in my life," Mr. Abe responded with a chuckle. "But we
as the government must ensure a stable energy supply."
As her husband was getting the cold
shoulder from his South Korean counterpart amid bilateral animosities,
Mrs. Abe posted a photo of herself mixing a giant pot of bibimbap, a
popular Korean dish, standing next to Korean dignitaries to celebrate a
Korean festival in Tokyo in September. She received hundreds of comments
accusing her of offenses like "cozying up to the Koreans" and "damaging
Japan's national interests." She also got over 2,000 "likes" on her
post and praise from a South Korean foreign ministry spokesman.
Just
as U.S. Vice President Joe Biden was urging her husband to make greater
efforts to get along with South Korea during his visit to Tokyo
Tuesday, Mrs. Abe was at an art show, exhibiting paintings by children
from the two countries. "It is very important our children get to know
each other through paintings," she said. "I believe the children will
build the future for the Japan-Korea relationship."
The prime minister's office declined to comment for this article.
Mrs.
Abe has also helped to endear her husband to voters. She has shared
with the public his personal moments, such as looking sleepy with mussed
hair in the morning, and eating a Popsicle in pajama bottoms on their
sofa late at night. Fans rallied to defend her photo of Mr. Abe feeding a
piece of meat with chopsticks to the childless couple's dog, a
miniature dachshund named Roy, after someone accused the prime minister
of holding the utensils improperly, branding it an insult to Japanese
culture.
"She has served as his shock
absorber," says Ikuo Gonoi, a political scientist who has analyzed Mrs.
Abe's influence. Mr. Gonoi says Mr. Abe faces pressure from
conservatives to pursue a tougher foreign policy and criticism from
liberals that he's too hawkish. "Her remarks have kept his image from
going to one extreme or the other."
Mrs. Abe's blunt public statements
reflect, in part, the surprising freedom and informality political
families have in Japan, where American-style handlers and image-makers
remain relatively rare.
She isn't
Japan's first first lady to make waves. Miyuki Hatoyama drew notice with
a book published the year before her husband took office in 2009,
describing her abduction by aliens. ("While my body was asleep, I think
my soul rode on a triangular-shaped UFO and went to Venus," she wrote).
Nobuko Kan, the wife of another recent leader, published a book
addressed to her husband titled "What Could Possibly Change If You Were
Prime Minister?"
Days after Mr. Abe
started his first, short-lived term as prime minister in 2006, Mrs. Abe
surprised the public by holding her husband's hand as they disembarked
the plane on his first overseas trip. Such a display of affection had
rarely been seen among Japan's public figures. The media scrutinized the
photogenic first lady's fashionable outfits, and criticized her
celebrity-like lifestyle. She abandoned her personal blog after a
controversial post showing the Abes at a fancy holiday party at a
well-known singer's house.
After Mr. Abe
returned to power in late 2012, Mrs. Abe picked up where she had left
off. At an event to promote farming fashion, she hit the catwalk in a
loose blue-and-white-striped smock with gold sneakers. She invited a
Journal reporter to her practice session of naginata, a type of Japanese
fencing. There, she sported a white cotton kimono paired with black
baggy trousers, as she lunged at her opponent—the wife of another former
prime minister—with a long wooden sword, giving a quick shout to
express fighting spirit.
Mrs. Abe grew
up in Tokyo, heir to a family owning a confectionery company, and met
Mr. Abe, the scion of one of Japan's most prominent political families,
while she was working at an ad agency. They have been married since
1987.
Mrs. Abe says she was never
career-oriented, but explored her own projects after her husband's first
stint as prime minister ended in 2007. "That was a period of setback
and hardship for us as a couple. After a while, he decided to refocus on
his political career. I felt like I needed to start my own life." She
went back to school and wrote a master's thesis on education in Myanmar.
She started farming.
Then came the pub
in October of last year, weeks before Mr. Abe returned to power. She
says Mr. Abe agreed on two conditions: She didn't drink while working;
and she must close it if she couldn't make a profit within a year. Has
she met the financial goal? "Yes. Just barely," she said.
