The Liberal Democratic Party’s absolute majority in the House of Representatives under the leadership of PM Takaichi Sanae, and the 15 seats won by the anti-immigration party Sanseitō, mark another step in the rise of the far right in Japan. The views and policies they have expressed should make this assessment uncontroversial, and yet, a number of notable articles have taken to calling these perspectives unnecessarily alarmist.
It is pointed out, for instance, that Takaichi avoided right-wing topics on the campaign trail, and that the party’s manifesto lacked the kind of populist rhetoric that one would expect from an anti-immigrant turn. Takaichi’s success in the previous election was not a referendum on her political positions the way that far-right successes have been elsewhere. It is fair to say, then, that most voters do not necessarily hold far-right beliefs, at least not explicitly.
Nevertheless, “far right” is entirely appropriate as a description of both Takaichi herself and of shifts within Japan’s political landscape more broadly. The confusion here may be related to differing attitudes towards the terminology, as well as how we are to measure the rise of an ideology. What we mean by the term has, for instance, become muddled precisely because Japan has for so long kept ideologically far-right parties out of the Diet, and so-called alarmists are now finding themselves attempting to denounce clear-cut threats to liberal democracy using a language that few find persuasive.
Roughly summarized, the far right is a broad coalition of actors opposed to liberal democracy. This definition may be surprising given that successful far-right parties were often democratically elected into their respective offices. Indeed, the far right is not against democracy per se, but they are united by a hostility to the principles of liberalism, in particular minority rights, the rule of law, and the separation of powers. Insofar that democracy is based on liberalism, however, the rise of a democratically elected far right still leads to an erosion of democracy. After all, a democracy without the inclusion of minority voices is hardly a democracy at all.
I have written before about Sanseitō, a party that attributes the gender equality movement to the pernicious influence of “Cultural Marxism,” promotes a deeply nativist vision of Japan, and favors revisionist views of history that portray Japan as a savior rather than aggressor. These are all explicitly far-right beliefs in that they are incompatible with liberal democracy.
Sanseitō does not seem to dispute this. The party is on the record that it finds liberal values to be fundamentally inimical to the preservation of Japanese culture. In their 2025 book on their draft of the constitution, Sanseitō explains that the concept of individual rights cannot be squared with the preservation of Japan’s culture and natural environment.
This is, broadly speaking, a position shared by Takaichi’s most vocal supporters in the ultraconservative movement. It is also reflected in the LDP’s 2012 draft for the constitution, which is notorious for its weakening of human rights guarantees and individual liberties. Takaichi herself has said she favors this draft, and her comments in recent years on individual rights and public welfare suggest that it may be used as a model for her amendment efforts.
The need for us to identify and publicly call out the far right is because its ideology is by definition a threat to the values and institutions that underpin democracy. Experience has shown that such threats must be curtailed, sometimes through means that strike some as undemocratic. In some European countries, it is not uncommon to see outright agreements between political parties to not go into coalition with the far right as a matter of principle. In the francophone Belgian region of Wallonia, far-right parties are not invited to interviews. Some scholars argue that it is as a result of this policy that the far right remain marginal as a political force.
The need for such mechanisms is because the postwar exclusion of the far right means that there is an inherent electoral benefit to occupying that space. Keeping these views out of the public sphere therefore requires the intervention of institutions such as the media. This is a deeply democratic activity: scholars, journalists, and citizens can collectively decide to deplatform and otherwise exclude views that have a historically proven track-record of leading to democratic erosion.
The Japanese media has so far failed at coordinating a coherent response, even if many reporters bear the same concerns. For the most part, broadcasters abide by a fairness doctrine that makes more pointed analysis difficult (hence, Sanseitō is rarely outright described as far right). The result is that Sanseitō is continuously given opportunities to expound on its views by the mainstream media, which, in spite of its decline as as source of information, still has a major role in shaping public debate.
Which is all to say that our concern should not be about how many seats Sanseitō gets, but on how its continued normalization in the media unshackles views that have so far been kept in check. Views that, for instance, Takaichi has said she shares. That is, however you slice it, a significant success for the ideas and values of the far right.
Romeo Marcantuoni received his Ph.D. from the Graduate School of Asia-Pacific Studies at Waseda University. He is currently an Adjunct Lecturer of Political Science at Temple University, Japan Campus. He earned his MA and BA in Japanese Studies at KU Leuven, Belgium. His current research focuses on interpretive approaches to the study of political parties from the perspective of emotions and narrative.
