The rise of Sanae Takaichi as Japan’s first woman prime minister is historic and not just because she broke a very high glass ceiling in Tokyo. It’s also the moment when the simple, chilling slogan “Japan First” takes centre stage in Japan’s politics in a way that mirrors the global surge of populist “First” rhetoric: from “UK First” to “Nigeria First,” from “America First” to what many of her peers now propose. The phrase may seem innocent, but embedded within it is a legerdemain: the unsaid suggestion that whoever came before wasn’t putting “our” country first. And that is the illusion we must watch.
When a politician says “Japan First” what are they really signalling? That the prior leaders put someone else first. The implication is not subtle: your predecessor had another nation’s interests at heart. It’s the same logic that casts gossip on the entire political order. But let’s be honest, did all previous British prime ministers, US presidents or German chancellors somehow wake up each morning wondering how to serve Canada, France, Mexico or Zimbabwe before their own country? Of course not. Yet the phrase works because it plants the seed of suspicion that “they” did.
Think of it this way. When Nigel Farage loudly declares “UK First!” he’s not really saying his country’s leaders in the past had ...Zimbabwe or Zimbabweans first. He’s saying, our leaders (including Margaret Thatcher) didn’t have the U.K. first and you deserve someone who will. When Donald Trump thundered “America First,” the implicit message was: the previous presidents didn’t. These slogans traffic not in historical fact but in emotional accusation. They caricature politics as betrayal. And in that sense, when Takaichi uses “Japan First,” or aligns with that sentiment, she is participating in the same rhetorical shortcut.
Let’s examine the clever sleight-of-hand: “First” = evil past. If you tell people “you were not first, with me you will be,” you sow doubt about the loyalty or competence of your predecessors. You don’t need to specify “They served France first” or “They served Mexico first.” The insinuation is generic but powerful, you were not the priority. That’s enough for populist rage. It’s the same refrain everywhere.
Yet, the truth is more nuanced. Most heads of government, almost universally, claim they will serve their nation’s interests. Most ‘political science’ textbooks assume the national interest is the driving logic of a state. Saying “First” doesn’t introduce a new ambition; it introduces a suspicion about the last guy. It’s rhetorical inflation, not policy substance. For Takaichi, the rhetoric may carry other meanings: national self-assertion, defence readiness, immigration controls, all legitimate policy debates. But cladding them in the “First” slogan invites a broader discourse, we weren’t first before; now we will be.
And that’s where the danger lies. Because if every leader pledges “our country first,” then what? Does “your country” always lose? Does cooperation, diplomacy, interdependence become subordinate? Do we automatically assume your predecessor was also a traitor to the concept of “us”? That kind of language invites tribalism, resentment, and zero sum thinking.
Worse, it weakens the possibility of nuance. We know that political leadership often has to balance national interests with global ones like trade, alliances, climate, migration. A slogan that says “My country first” can become shorthand for “my country alone,” or “I will ignore what comes after ‘my’,” and leave unsaid the implications for others. For her peers, the line is thin between self-assertion and isolation. When Takaichi proclaims “Japan First,” she is playing the populist card. OK. But the unspoken promise is that others, previous leaders, didn’t.
Now, one might say, is this unfair? After all, sometimes previous leaders did put other interests above theirs; globalization, multinational elites, foreign-investor lobbies. Sometimes they compromised national sovereignty for international institutions. So the “First” slogan has some basis. But here’s the clutch: the mistake is generalising the notion that most predecessors were guilty of betrayal. That becomes cynicism. And once you enter the posture of eternal accusation, you set the threshold for “good leadership” unreasonably high, not only must the new leader serve the country, she/he must prove that all previous failed it.
In the case of Takaichi, putting “Japan first” also taps into a deeper nationalist margin, in a country grappling with declining birth-rates, economic malaise and regional tension, the slogan reinforces the message, “We’ll look after us, before others.” That resonates. But it also obscures complexity. It simplifies politics into a moral ledger, first vs second, us vs them. Meanwhile, real governance requires constant trade-offs. Saying you will be first is easy. Showing how you will do that without leaving the rest behind is hard and all this has echoes of Hitlerian speeches before 1934.
And yes, there is a glass-ceiling breakthrough here, a woman in Japan’s highest office. But the slogan muddies the milestone. When “First” becomes a shining catchword, it distracts attention from the hard questions of policy and governance. Instead of asking “How will she lead?” we ask “What does she claim they didn’t do?” That’s a different conversation.
In the end, “First” is a mirror held up to the people. It says: you got the short straw before; I will shorten the straw for them now. But if all leaders say “First,” then are we in a world where every successor is accusing the predecessor? And what happens when the successor becomes the predecessor?
What we need is not to dismiss “Japan First” as mere populism but to question it. Behind the slogan lie assumptions, that previous leaders weren’t loyal; that new leadership will fix everything; that “our country” has been betrayed. None of those assumptions are innocuous. They shift politics away from partnership and scrutiny, toward suspicion and loyalty tests.
So yes, Takaichi can be the first woman prime minister of Japan. That’s an achievement. But let’s not mistake the rhetoric around her for inevitable rupture. “First” is a powerful word but history tells us that leadership is not won with slogans alone. It is earned day by day. And if “First” becomes the brand of every successor, we end up in a cycle where everyone declares “I come first” and no one ever asks: “What about someone else?”
Check Thanos Kalamidas' eBOOK, HERE!
No comments:
Post a Comment