In a historic turn of events, 64-year-old Sanae Takaichi has emerged as the leader of Japan’s ruling Liberal Democratic Party (LDP), paving the way for her to become the country’s first woman prime minister. Known for her hardline stance on China and conservative values, Takaichi’s win marks a defining moment for Japanese politics—a realm long dominated by male leadership and entrenched ideology.
A staunch admirer of Margaret Thatcher, Takaichi is not new to political rigor. Her victory over 44-year-old Shinjiro Koizumi—a charismatic but relatively inexperienced politician and son of a former prime minister—signals the party’s preference for seasoned leadership in turbulent times. While Koizumi could have symbolized generational change, Takaichi represents traditional strength and political steadiness.
Her win came after a runoff vote in which she outpaced Koizumi following the elimination of moderate Yoshimasa Hayashi and two others. With parliament almost certain to confirm her, Takaichi is expected to take office by mid-October, becoming Japan’s fifth prime minister in as many years.
But inheriting the nation’s top job doesn’t come with ease.
Takaichi now faces a storm of challenges: Japan’s ageing population, growing economic uncertainty, increasing geopolitical pressures, and a population deeply divided over immigration. A rising populist party, Sanseito, has been gaining traction with its controversial anti-immigration rhetoric, branding immigration a “silent invasion.” Both Takaichi and Koizumi, during the LDP campaign, tried to resonate with concerned voters—some arguing that Japan should rethink its openness to those from different cultures.
Takaichi echoed these sentiments, stating Japan should “reconsider policies that allow in people with completely different cultures and backgrounds.” While such views are rare in Japan’s mainstream politics, they are now finding space in the national conversation.
Still, voices from the ground reflect a more complex reality. Kimiko Tamura, a 66-year-old retiree, voiced concern about the fading tolerance towards foreigners. Meanwhile, 33-year-old Nguyen Thu Huong from Vietnam, who has lived in Japan for 14 years, sees it differently: “Cultural differences are difficult, but Japan is a good place to live.”
On economic policy, Takaichi has previously supported “Abenomics 2.0″—a continuation of aggressive monetary easing and fiscal stimulus championed by her mentor Shinzo Abe. However, on the campaign trail, she presented a more moderated tone and even softened her typical hardline rhetoric on China.
Despite the excitement surrounding her gender-first breakthrough, some experts urge caution. Yuki Tsuji, a gender politics professor at Tokai University, pointed out that Takaichi has shown little interest in advancing women’s rights or gender equality. “Her win may be symbolic, but substance still matters,” Tsuji emphasized.
There were also questions about Koizumi’s capacity to lead. Though youthful and reform-minded—he famously took paternity leave and surfs—experts warned he might lack the depth to lead effectively during a national crisis.
As Takaichi prepares to step into Japan’s highest office, her leadership will be scrutinized not only for how she governs but also for how she navigates a country at a social and political crossroads. Will she bring real transformation or simply reinforce old frameworks under a new face?
One thing is certain: this moment, etched in history, speaks to the growing demand for leadership that balances strength with empathy, tradition with progress, and vision with humanity.
