【英语国际】日本需要的是小泽一郎

The Democratic Party of Japan is about to make a momentous choice. Its party leadership vote on Tuesday will decide who holds the office of prime minister. The contrast between the two candidates could not be more stark. In one corner stands a man who represents continuity with the failed policies of old. In the other his opponent, who promises to shake up economic and diplomatic strategy and rein in the all-powerful bureaucracy.

The reformer is Ichiro Ozawa. Calling him controversial is putting it mildly. Having left the Liberal Democratic party in the early 1990s and plotted its defeat in last year’s election for the DPJ, he is loathed by former colleagues. The nationalist right rages about his pro-China sympathies. The left of his own party fears and distrusts his Machiavellian skills. The media see his contest with Naoto Kan, current prime minister, as the equivalent of Darth Vader’s face-off with Luke Skywalker.

Yet it is Mr Ozawa, sometimes dubbed the shadow shogun, and not Mr Kan who remains true to the vision of change that swept the DPJ to power last year. The party promised generous child benefits of Y26,000 ($309) per month to tackle the demographic decline. This was also the first attempt since the bubble economy burst in 1990 to help consumption by bolstering incomes directly.

The brunt of the deflationary malaise has been borne by the lower middle classes, particularly younger people. Moves by Junichiro Koizumi, former prime minister, to deregulate the labour market were worthwhile but also put more deflationary pressure on wages. During the past 10 years the number of households earning less than Y3m has grown by 50 per cent. The slow decay of social cohesion was recently highlighted by news of people claiming benefits for pensioners who had been dead for years – including one found mummified in the family home.

The DPJ shift to policies that boosted consumption was the right move, and an electoral asset. Strange, then, that Mr Kan turned back, fighting this summer’s upper house election on an austerity platform. Child allowances were to be capped, consumption taxes doubled and corporate taxes cut instead. Unsurprisingly, Mr Kan’s proposal went down like a cup of cold rice gruel. Mr Ozawa was vocal in his disapproval. But why did Mr Kan reverse? The kindest explanation is naivety: he fell for the “Japan is the next Greece” story. By contrast, Mr Ozawa’s idea of securitising loans and other assets on the government’s bloated balance sheet sent shivers down the spines of bureaucrats, not to mention the bond market.

Mr Ozawa, meanwhile, is neither a nationalist rightwinger nor a pacifist. He favours a pragmatic foreign policy – which means, at the moment, more distance from the US and more proximity to China. He denies the need for American marines in Okinawa but sees the value of hosting the country’s Seventh Fleet. If anyone can resolve these tricky issues, it is Mr Ozawa.

Japanese politics has come to resemble karaoke night, with a succession of forgettable performers each taking a brief turn on stage. Mr Ozawa is different. Though only four years older than Mr Kan, he seems to have been around forever. He was a cabinet minister and held important party posts in his early forties, a feat in a gerontocratic country. He also became an ally of Kakuei Tanaka, the brilliant but corrupt populist who dominated politics in the 1970s and 1980s. It is this association that gave him his organisational prowess but also “something of the night” that makes him controversial.

All right-thinking people in Japan say they are against the “money politics” Mr Ozawa is said to represent. Yet the nation’s politics runs on money: politicians do not amass grand fortunes, but exchanging favours is a practice that runs through society from top to bottom. Some of Japan’s greatest leaders – including Nobel Prize-winner Eisaku Sato – were investigated on multiple occasions. Mr Ozawa, who has been investigated but not charged with anything, is merely the latest in a long and illustrious line.

According to a Japanese proverb, if water is too clean no fish can live in it. If Japan wants to carry on flopping around in clean, empty water, Mr Kan is the man. If it wants to adjust to the realities of the post-crisis world, the choice should be Mr Ozawa, dark side and all.

The writer is a Tokyo-based analyst at Arcus Research

日本民主党将要做出重大抉择，周二的党魁选举将决定谁能出任首相。两位候选人的对比十分鲜明，一方代表着以往失败政策的延续，另一方是他的对手，承诺要重整经济和外交战略，钳制拥有无限权力的官僚体系。

改革者是小泽一郎(Ichiro Ozawa)，但他远非“争议”二字可以形容。他在20世纪90年代早期脱离自民党(Liberal Democratic Party)，去年又为民主党(DPJ)出谋划策，在大选中击败了自民党。前同事因此对小泽痛恨不已。民族主义右翼分子对他支持中国的态度十分愤怒，而党内左派又对他马基雅维利式的权术既恐惧又不信任。媒体将他和现首相菅直人(Naoto Kan)的对决比作达斯·维达(Darth Vader)与天行者卢克(Luke Skywalker)的交锋。

然而仍然坚持去年促使民主党走上执政地位的改革愿景的人，正是有时被称为“影子将军”的小泽一郎，而非菅直人。民主党承诺每月慷慨发放2.6万日元（合309美元）的儿童福利，解决人口老龄化问题。这也是1990年泡沫经济破裂以来，日本首次尝试直接通过提高收入来促进消费。

受日本通缩顽疾影响最大的是中低层阶级，尤其是年轻人。前首相小泉纯一郎(Junichiro Koizumi)放松劳动力市场监管的举措虽值得一试，但也给薪酬带来了更大的通缩压力。过去10年，收入低于300万日元的家庭数量增加了50%。社会凝聚力的逐渐衰弱在最近的新闻报道中得到了突出体现：有人替死亡多年的人申领退休金，其中一位已在家中变成了干尸。

日本民主党促进消费的政策转变是正确之举，也是一项选举资产。吊诡的是，菅直人却彻底转向，试图通过财政紧缩赢得夏季的上院选举。儿童津贴要封顶，消费税要加倍，而企业所得税却会削减。菅直人的提议像一碗冷粥一样让人失望。小泽毫不讳言自己的不满。但菅直人为什么会转向呢？最善意的解释是幼稚：他听信了“日本是下一个希腊”的说辞。相比之下，小泽将政府膨胀的资产负债表上的贷款和其他资产证券化的设想，则让官僚们不寒而栗，更不用说债券市场了。

小泽一郎既不是民族主义右翼分子也不是和平主义者。他青睐务实的外交政策——目前这意味着疏远美国，亲近中国。他否认需要让美国海军在冲绳驻军，但又认为美国第七舰队的驻留是有价值的。如果有人能解决这些棘手的问题，则非小泽莫属。

日本政治已变得就像通宵K歌，各色人等你方唱罢我登场，很快就会被遗忘。但小泽一郎不同，虽然只比菅直人年长四岁，但他却似乎永远没有走下舞台。他40出头就担任了内阁大臣，并在党内担任重要职务，这在一个老人统治的国家委实称得上一项成就。他还是上世纪七、八十年代主导政坛的优秀却腐败的民粹主义者——田中角荣(Kakuei Tanaka)的盟友。正是这种关系赋予了他组织能力，然而“黑夜里的勾当”也让他颇具争议性。

日本所有头脑正常的人都表示，他们反对据称由小泽一郎代表的“金钱政治”。然而日本政治的确是依赖金钱运行的：政客并不聚敛大笔财富，但礼尚往来却是整个社会自上而下的惯常做法。一些日本最伟大的领导人，包括诺贝尔奖得主佐藤荣作(Eisaku Sato)，都多次受到调查。虽曾受到调查却未受到任何指控的小泽一郎，不过是长长的光荣行列中最新的一员。

日本谚语有云，“水至清则无鱼”。如果日本想在“至清无鱼”的水里扑腾，则菅直人较为合适。但如果日本想正视后危机世界的现实，小泽一郎才是正确的人选，即使他有阴暗面。

本文作者是Arcus Research驻东京分析师。