Lacking Diplomacy

AN STYLE="font-size: 75%; color:#990000; font-weight:bold">Wednesday, May. 23, 2001 "Loose cannon" and "Japanese politician" are phrases not often used in the same sentence. The typical Japanese politician, in fact, is a dour, tight-lipped geezer much too cautious to utter anything worth noting. Like many stereotypes of Japan, this is one we might just have to toss in the rubbish bin, and it's all because of The Lady with the Big Mouth.

That would be Makiko Tanaka, of course, the acid-tongued Foreign Minister in the new administration of Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi. In office less than a month, Tanaka has already made her voice heard. Nobody in Japan is really surprised by this because Tanaka has made a career out of her quick-witted, acerbic repartee, and she is one of the main reasons Koizumi himself is so popular these days.

Tanaka ran as his de facto running mate in the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) election for the party presidency last month. Side by side, they made a striking duo: Big Mouth and the Weirdo. It was she who gave Koizumi that nickname, by the way. Note that Koizumi -- or anyone else -- hasn't returned the favor. (Until now: TIME is hereby declaring Tanaka, Big Mouth.)

It's a fair nickname because Tanaka, 57, is one of the first politicians to figure out how to use the media in Japan. In fact she's a made-for-TV phenomenon. The daughter of former Prime Minister Kakuei Tanaka (who left office in disgrace in 1974), Makiko learned the craft of acting as a student at Waseda University, where she performed in theater. She studied well: she has perfected the witty sound bite and sharp comeback, and comes across as appealing while on the talk-show circuit. She also portrays herself as an everyday housewife with roots in the countryside, which is about as sincere as the Yale-educated George W. Bush presenting himself as a Texas hick.

Tanaka's father -- despite the scandals -- was enormously popular in Japan. Uneducated and charismatic, he conveyed a sense that he cared about the downtrodden. His daughter has ridden his coattails, inspired, in large part, by family loyalty. She has never forgiven members of the LDP who took control of his faction -- the group now lead by Ryutaro Hashimoto, Koizumi's prime ministerial opponent -- and many political insiders believe her primary motivation in politics is to exact revenge for her father. Tanaka inherited her father's name, his deep voice and his animated, natural style -- and in turn, she inherited his popularity. (She is arguably more popular than Koizumi himself, and so the PM was wise to give her a prominent role in his cabinet.)

It's really too bad that Japan's parliamentary system doesn't make room for a Vice President, because that would be the perfect place for Tanaka. She'd have a bully pulpit from which to offend people until the cows come home, and it wouldn't make one iota of difference. She'd amuse, which is a contribution that shouldn't be underrated in Japan, and when necessary, she could come out guns blazing to put down anyone who dares to malign Koizumi. She could also be used to float all kinds of trial balloons, ideas the Koizumi administration wants to trot out before the public.

As the country's top diplomat, most people would agree that the job requires, well, diplomacy. But this isn't her strong suit; it's not even in her wardrobe. In some parts of the world, a Foreign Minister with a nasty streak could probably get away with it, because, let's face it, who would notice? But Japan, as much as it has tried since the end of World War II to hide in the shadows of the world stage, does in fact have a role to play because of its economic might (a bit questionable at the moment) and its place in Asia.

Koizumi probably figured that with all the attention on the economy, political reform and him, nobody was going to pay much heed to his administration's diplomatic front. Well, guess what? Barely a month in office, a lot of hot- button issues have already come across Tanaka's desk.

-- There was Kim Jong Nam (or a reasonable facsimile of him), son of North Korea's Dear Leader, Kim Jong Il, showing up at Narita Airport with a fake passport from the Dominican Republic.

-- There were Japan's irritated neighbors, South Korea and China, working themselves into a seasonal lather over the way some junior-high school textbooks deal with World War II.

-- There was a corruption scandal in the Foreign Ministry left over from the previous administration.

-- There was the controversial visit to Tokyo by former Taiwanese President Lee Teng-hui; Tanaka said she had a problem with him coming, even though Koizumi had given it the O.K.

-- And there was the U.S. and its new aggressive missile defense plan, in which Japan figures large.

And what has Tanaka done? Let's just say she's made some "curious" choices. On the positive side, first, she probably made the right call on Kim Jong Nam, having him deported to China instead of charging him with a criminal offense. That spared us all an ugly international incident. She's also sent out the right messages concerning the bureaucracy, that she's willing to take on the status quo and put an end to some unseemly behavior. So we'll give Tanaka her due on those two points.

But otherwise, we propose she relax that Big Mouth of hers and listen a wee bit more. Not surprisingly, she has few allies, not within her party, and not within the Foreign Ministry. Her LDP colleagues in parliament are generally derisive of her abilities and smarts. And the bureaucrats in the Foreign Ministry found out in a nanosecond that she was not going to be an easygoing boss. First she banned underlings from her office, saying they were intimidating her. (Tanaka bullied? I don't think so. It's hard to imagine anyone bullying her.) Then she scuttled some appointments made by her predecessor, in a couple of cases sending diplomats scurrying back home after they had already been posted overseas. Those moves were later rescinded. This kind of stuff doesn't really register with the public, mind you. They couldn't care less if a bunch of pampered bureaucrats who've wined and dined at the public trough have their noses put out of joint. Her opponents, though, have been quick to attack her. Some of the barbs are unfair, and carry a sexist tone. One old-timer warned her to keep her emotions in check.

But the point that Tanaka has failed to grasp is that ultimately she's going to need some of those "bums" on her side. This lack of a brain trust, as the Japanese call it, is embarrassingly apparent. Earlier this month, the U.S. Deputy Secretary of State, Richard Armitage, visited Tokyo to bring the Koizumi team up to speed on Bush's missile defense scheme. What did Tanaka do? She canceled her meeting with him; she made some lame excuses and then finally admitted she was so overwhelmed by all the issues facing her she was "in a state of panic." Then she reportedly told a counterpart in China that Japan would tone down this textbook problem in the future. Then she reversed course. And this week she made some wisecrack about the name of the President of Nigeria, who was visiting Tokyo.

If first impressions are important, then Tanaka is in trouble, for the early, unmistakable impression she is leaving is that she is all style, no substance, and out of her depth as Foreign Minister. But this probably isn't fair. She is a sharp tactician, and if she doesn't know all the nitty-gritty details of antiballistic missiles and the Kyoto treaty, who cares? She's got the bureaucrats for that. If she hasn't fired them all yet.

No matter what she does, whom she offends or what blunders she makes, Tanaka has already achieved one thing: she has changed the image of the Japanese politician. For that, we should all be grateful.