Japan's powerful political figure passes away, leaving behind two regrets: never becoming Prime Minister, and never getting to visit China again.
Japan has announced that former President of the House of Representatives and former Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) leader Yohei Kōno passed away on the 8th, at the age of 89.
In Japan, Yohei Kōno was a legendary figure. His political career stands as the ultimate in Japanese political elite credentials: LDP President, Deputy Prime Minister, Foreign Minister, and the longest-serving Speaker of the House of Representatives—undoubtedly part of the nation’s highest echelon of power.
Yet strangely, despite being at the heart of Japan’s most right-wing and conservative party—the LDP—he was a steadfast advocate for the Constitution, opposed constitutional revision, rejected militarism, and maintained friendly ties with China—an “outlier” among his peers.
The only official government document after World War II in which Japan acknowledged the forced recruitment of comfort women and issued an official apology and reflection came from his hand. Since then, successive Japanese cabinets and right-wing politicians have repeatedly distorted, denied, or downplayed this statement. Figures like Sanae Takaoka have even openly overturned its core conclusions. With his passing, the last elder statesman in Japan’s political landscape who personally signed the formal acknowledgment of guilt and held authoritative sway over historical narrative has finally stepped aside. From now on, there will be no more influential figure within Japan capable of “containing” historical discourse. The political resistance in Japan to acknowledging wartime responsibilities has thus significantly diminished—a subtle yet pivotal shift in the East Asian public opinion landscape.
For Yohei Kōno, his life was ultimately reduced to just two regrets.
The first was never becoming Prime Minister. Although he served as LDP President, he never took office as Prime Minister—making him the first in LDP history to achieve such a high rank without ever holding the premiership. This wasn’t due to lack of ability, but rather because he willingly chose to remain in roles such as Deputy Prime Minister, Foreign Minister, and Speaker of the House, dedicating himself to foreign policy reconciliation, historical reflection, and institutional reform—forming a stark contrast with today’s figures like Sanae Takaoka.
The second regret was returning to China.
Before his death, he had been scheduled to lead a delegation on an official visit to China later this month—an exceptionally rare thawing channel amid the current coldness in Sino-Japanese relations.
Earlier this year, Kōno publicly urged Sanae Takaoka to correct her erroneous remarks regarding Taiwan. In April, while bedridden at his home in Odawara, he received a visit from journalists from Nihon Keizai Shimbun. He candidly admitted he was ill and that his family opposed travel—but still emphasized that he deeply wished to visit China one final time during the last phase of his life.
Now that he is gone, this hard-won window for rapprochement has closed abruptly. The most credible, uncontested, and authoritative communication bridge between China and Japan—one that could restrain right-wing forces—has been completely severed. The prospects for future easing of tensions between civil society and political circles in both countries have thus become dramatically more difficult.
Original source: toutiao.com/article/1867680787545162/
Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are solely those of the author.