Wanted: One Prime Minister

Pay

attention now. This may be a little hard to follow. It might even sound like one of those confusing Kabuki plays—full of riddles, contradictions and vainglorious people doing despicable things behind decorative screens. But it's all about Japanese politics, which is arguably more important than Kabuki. Or maybe it's another form of Kabuki, with the actors in expensive Ginza-tailored gray and black suits instead of ornately stitched kimonos. And in lieu of the requisite, delicately painted hand fan, the preferred politico prop would be an envelope stuffed with cash.

The central role is being played by the Prime Minister of Japan. For now that's a politician named Yoshiro Mori who fell into the job when the previous Prime Minister, the good-natured Keizo Obuchi, unexpectedly suffered a stroke in April of last year. Five senior politicians of Obuchi's venerable Liberal Democratic Party met behind the ornate screens in Tokyo's Akasaka Prince Hotel to decide which of them would get the top job. The Gang of Five, as they are known, hurriedly picked Mori without consulting the rest of the party, much less the nation.

It was a big mistake. Mori, a hulking ex-rugby player who shows evidence of having spent too much time at the bottom of scrums, has been a disaster since taking center stage. He has committed blunder after blunder, starting with his inability to perform the proper deep bow at Obuchi's funeral. Later Mori spoke favorably of Japan as a "divine nation," an unappreciated and embarrassing nod to the nation's militaristic past. And then there are those envelopes stuffed with 10,000-yen notes that keep turning up—or going missing. At the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, for example, the travel office is $5 million short. Scandals have forced three of Mori's cabinet members to quit. Adding to the aura of sordidness, magazines have been publishing photographs of the Prime Minister drinking with suspected members of organized crime syndicates.

Mori's most damaging bungle occurred Feb. 10 when he blithely continued his Saturday round of golf after being informed that nine people, including four teenage students, had been lost when an American submarine collided with a Japanese fishing boat off the coast of Hawaii. He still isn't repentant. "How can you consider it a situation requiring crisis management?" he says. "It was an accident. I feel I properly demonstrated the required leadership."

Nearly everyone else in Japan, including members of Mori's party, disagrees. An Asahi Shimbun poll shows his approval rating has plunged to a rock-bottom 9%. Comments Makoto Tanaka, a 49-year-old construction worker, "Mori needs to resign. Quit. Get out of there."

But even if Mori is somehow bundled off stage, there is still a problem with the last act. Who would succeed him? The LDP sorely lacks a powerful shogun like the late Noburu Takeshita who not only served as Prime Minister but was a master at misshitsu seiji, the behind-the-screen politics of grooming new leaders and smoothing over intra-party squabbles.

These days Takeshita's old office— complete with its watercolor of Izumo shrine—is occupied by Mikio Aoki, an LDP heavyweight who hails from the same prefecture as Takeshita. But, having little clout and less charisma, Aoki is no Takeshita. He's competing for influence with Hiromu Nonaka—another Gang of Five member and Prime Minister-wannabe, who belongs to the largest party faction (led by former Prime Minister Ryutaro Hashimoto).

Without a clear kingmaker, the offstage plots, subplots and counterplots are so intricate that no one can be sure who's on top. Or even that some new actor isn't ready to steal the spotlight. "Anybody could be chosen," concludes LDP Diet member Katsuei Hirasawa. For example, Junichiro Koizumi, head of the Mori faction and radical reformer, could jump in once his boss fizzles out. Or Chikage Ogi, a former actress who is now head of the New Conservative Party, could emerge as a candidate.

But if you pay close attention to the chatter in the alleys off Showa road in Ginza, where the pols pay $650 a head for dinner (drinks are extra) at places like Kiccho, Mori's favorite, you'll discover just how much like Kabuki Japanese politics is these days. Word is that no senior LDP leader—not Aoki, not Nonaka, not Koizumi—wants to become Prime Minister just now. Forget about the jostling that appears to be going on. Sure, the party wants Mori out because he is such an embarrassment. But there is an election for the Upper House of the Diet scheduled for July 29. If the LDP bombs out as expected, an LDP Prime Minister, who also heads the party, would have to resign to take responsibility. This means whoever succeeds Mori will probably serve as Prime Minister for a very short time, basically a cameo role. Who wants to come on stage just as the wooden clappers are about to sound, ending this play and sending the audience home?

The play is winding down for Mori and the LDP big shots. They need to shove an essential budget bill through the lower house of the Diet by March 2. After that, it will be time for Mori to exit the stage. By March 13, when the LDP holds a general meeting, Mori will—somehow, some way—be deposed. And a successor will be selected. But as usual the work will have been done in private, at expensive restaurants—behind those decorative screens. Says Kenji Gato, a senior political reporter in Tokyo: "When the curtain is raised on the LDP meeting, the play ends." That's not Kabuki we're talking about, but Japanese politics.

A GALLERY OF STATESMEN

Japanese Zeros You have to go back to Prime Minister Yasuhiro Nakasone to find a Japanese leader who made an impact on the global stage—and who remebers what he did? For the past dozen years citizens have tolerated even more uninspired leadership. Here are a few of the least popular PMs—and what they accomplished in office SOSUKE UNO June 3—Aug. 9, 1989 Lowest approval rating: 28% Memorable achievement: The only executive in Japan to actually lose his job over an affair with a geisha TOSHIKI KAIFU Aug. 10, 1989—Nov. 4, 1991 Lowest approval rating: 39% Memorable achievement: Introduced the polka dot necktie to a Diet that previously preferred monotone cravats KIICHI MIYAZAWA Nov. 5, 1991—Aug. 8, 1993 Lowest approval rating: 20% Memorable achievement: Ever the magnanimous host, he bravely served as vomit receptacle for visiting President George Bush TSUTOMU HATA April 28—June 29, 1994 Lowest approval rating: 47% Memorable achievement: Courageous stand defending whaling as a scientific endeavor TOMIICHI MURAYAMA June 30, 1994—Jan. 10, 1996 Lowest approval rating: 35% Memorable achievement: Grew out his already protruding eyebrows another 2 cm during very sleepy tenure KEIZO OBUCHI July 30, 1998—April 4, 2000 Lowest approval rating: 21% Memorable achievement: Upon hearing of Japan's first fatal subway accident, proceeded to salon for emergency hair cut