Eighty years have passed since the Empire of Japan accepted defeat at the hands of the Allied Powers. On this day, I find it especially meaningful to present my vision of the nation in English. It is my sincere hope that Japan will continue to mature spiritually and move toward true independence of the heart.
If any part of this text seems unclear or difficult to interpret, please feel free to leave a comment. I would be more than happy to offer further explanation or context. After all, ethics—like nations—are often twisted in translation.
Introduction:
I am a hybrid conservative—born because Japan lost the war.
This is not rhetorical flourish or exaggeration. It marks the ethical starting point of my existence. Had Japan won the war, I would not have been born. Or perhaps I would have grown up as a completely different person, shaped by a different set of values and education. But Japan was defeated. The constitution changed. Education changed. The shape of the nation itself changed. And as a result, I was born into postwar Japan. That is why I must confront the era that gave birth to me.
What I seek is Japan’s true independence. But by independence, I do not simply mean “not relying on the United States.” The independence I envision is one in which the nation becomes ethically autonomous. And such autonomy must be grounded in three principles: thorough pacifism, national self-determination, and international cooperation. These may appear contradictory on the surface. In fact, I am not opposed to shedding blood if it is the only way to prevent war. A strange statement, perhaps?
Yet I believe this contradiction is precisely the reality that postwar Japanese must bear. To speak of the nation is not to avert our eyes from such contradictions, but to accept them—and to continually ask what actions are ethically permissible within them.
This manuscript is an attempt to reimagine the shape of the nation. It is neither conservative nor progressive, but rather a draft of a new national vision grounded in my own ethics. I hope you will receive it as such.
I. The Hollowing of Postwar Conservatism and Patriotism in Name Only
“Hakkō Ichiu.” When this phrase was uttered without reservation by a ruling party lawmaker in Japan’s National Diet on the 70th anniversary of the war’s end, I felt a chill run down my spine. The speaker was Junko Mihara, a member of the Liberal Democratic Party. In the context of addressing corporate tax avoidance, she stated that “under the principle of Hakkō Ichiu, we should operate our tax system,” and urged Prime Minister Abe to “propose this to the world.”
This frivolous remark lacked historical sensitivity, international awareness, and ethical weight. The phrase Hakkō Ichiu (literally “Eight Corners of the World Under One Roof”) was a wartime slogan used to justify imperial expansion and domination. It was closely tied to the ideology of the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere, which, despite its rhetoric of Asian solidarity, trampled the autonomy of neighboring nations. It is a term that should be handled with utmost caution.
Yet here it was, casually invoked by a ruling party politician on a symbolic anniversary—with no significant political backlash. This fact alone reveals how “conservatism” in Japan has degenerated into mere repetition of symbols, stripped of historical responsibility and ethical introspection.
When I speak of “pseudo-rightists,” I refer precisely to those who indulge in wordplay divorced from the gravity of history. They recycle slogans like Gozoku Kyōwa (“Five-Race Harmony”) and Hakkō Ichiu as if they were stylish catchphrases, without context or reflection. But if you ask them: “What is a nation?” “Who is governance for?” “Who bears responsibility for its failures?”—you will likely receive no meaningful answer. They merely trace the surface of words. There is no ethics there.
Consider the prewar young officers who were drawn to Ikki Kita. They envisioned an ideal nation and were willing to risk their lives for it. Kita was a socialist who rejected aristocratic hierarchy and argued that the Emperor should exist for the people—a radical stance. The young officers, on the other hand, pledged unconditional loyalty to the Emperor. Yet they found solace in Kita’s words and acted upon them. In this twisted relationship, I see a kind of ethical urgency between thought and action.
That is why I feel anger toward the shallowness of today’s conservative discourse. We must not reduce the ideas of those who risked their lives to mere symbolic gestures. To speak of history is to accept its ethical cost and take responsibility for it.
Today’s Japanese conservatism lacks that resolve. And in that hollow space, I see the deepest ethical void that postwar Japan continues to carry.
II. Japan’s Diplomatic and Security Doctrine: Toward Ethical Autonomy
Since the end of World War II, Japan has formally regained its sovereignty. Yet in practice, it has remained embedded within a structure of defense dependence—sheltered under the U.S. nuclear umbrella. This is not merely a military arrangement; it is an ethical problem. It means entrusting national security to the judgment of another country. For Japan to truly act as an autonomous nation, I believe it must break free from this dependency.
Of course, this cannot be done overnight. The goal is not to abruptly dissolve the alliance, but to gradually revise the U.S.-Japan Security Treaty and build a system in which Japan defends itself. To do so, Japan must articulate its own diplomatic and security doctrine—its own principled framework.
1. Begin with Internationalism and Reckoning with War Responsibility
Japan must first confront the structural limits of the postwar regime and take a step toward genuine internationalism. It is an anomaly that Japan is still listed under the “enemy state clause” in the United Nations Charter. Japan should lead diplomatic efforts to abolish this outdated designation.
Beyond that, Japan must establish its own ethical stance within the global order—one that upholds pacifism and renounces war, while also engaging with international realities.
The following principles should guide this stance:
- Respect international law and prioritize negotiation and dialogue in resolving conflicts
- Clearly reject any attempt to change the status quo by force (e.g., Russia’s invasion of Ukraine)
- Take sides not based on neutrality, but on ethical judgment
From this position, Japan must shift from passive pacifism—“not participating in war”—to active peacebuilding. This means becoming a nation that takes initiative in protecting human life: dispatching ceasefire monitoring teams, sending emergency medical and humanitarian aid to conflict zones, and acting decisively in defense of peace.
2. The Principle of “Helping Those Who Help Themselves”
Diplomacy grounded in ethics is not the same as idealism that collapses under its own weight. It must carry the cold clarity of realism, while applying a principled framework for choosing whom to support. That framework is the stance of “helping those who help themselves.”
- Japan should offer serious support to nations and individuals who are making genuine efforts on their own
- Aid must not be a top-down handout, but based on equal partnership
- Japan’s resources, technology, and human capital should be mobilized to build structures of mutual autonomy
Under this principle, reinvesting in domestic agriculture, forestry, and fisheries to overcome Japan’s low food self-sufficiency is ethically and nationally justified. Likewise, restructuring industries to adapt to a shrinking population, and pursuing autonomy in energy and technology sectors, should be seen as part of a broader strategy to become a nation that supports others through shared resilience.
3. Autonomy and International Cooperation Can Coexist
In envisioning Japan’s future, autonomy and cooperation are often treated as opposing concepts. But this is a mistake. It is precisely because a nation is autonomous that it can cooperate with others on equal footing.
A country that lacks its own diplomatic principles and merely reacts to the preferences of the United States or other major powers will not earn respect or trust. True trust and empathy in the international community come from being a nation that acts according to its own convictions.
At the heart of those convictions must be ethics. A nation that places ethical judgment at the core of its diplomatic doctrine—that is the Japan we should strive to become.
III. A Blueprint for National Autonomy: Reforming Technology, Education, and Institutions
No matter how clearly a nation articulates its diplomatic and security doctrines, they remain mere abstractions unless backed by the internal strength to realize and sustain them. The foundation of national power lies in technology, education, and institutional design. Rebuilding these pillars is not simply about economic growth—it is about constructing the structural framework of a society capable of embodying national ethics.
1. Cultivating Advanced Talent and Redesigning Knowledge
For Japan to function as a truly independent nation, it must answer the question: Who will carry this country forward? Preserving underperforming universities or perpetuating homogenized academic credentialing is not the answer. What is needed is the cultivation of advanced talent—practical, specialized, and ethically grounded.
The following initiatives should be positioned as part of a national strategy: (Details to be outlined in a separate post)
- Establish specialized schools and research institutions tailored to regional strengths Examples: Toyooka – music and design; Maizuru – marine science; Shingū – forestry and tourism
- Concentrated training of field-ready professionals in agriculture, forestry, fisheries, industry, healthcare, IT, and disaster prevention
- Restructuring universities through functional integration and specialization to create environments for lifelong learning
Education is not a “growth industry.” It is the nation’s regenerative engine—an ethical investment in the future.
2. Securing Indigenous Technology and Reconstructing Industry
Low food self-sufficiency, reliance on imported equipment, and a drifting energy policy—these are all symptoms of Japan’s eroded technological autonomy. To restore a structure in which the nation defends itself with its own technologies, the following shifts are essential:
- Increase domestic production ratios in strategic sectors such as defense, infrastructure, healthcare, and energy
- Redirect public funding from large corporations to regional core technologies and small-scale laboratories
- Improve working conditions and restore ethical trust in technical professions
A technician once said, “It’s best when it feels half like play.” In that statement lies the essence of innovation: free creativity paired with responsible flexibility. Japan’s institutional design has long neglected this perspective.
3. Connecting Institutional Design to National Ethics
Institutions are the mechanisms through which a nation’s ethical vision becomes visible. No matter how noble the constitution or ideals may be, if they are not reflected in the structure of governance, public trust and national dignity cannot be sustained.
To rebuild Japan as an ethical state, the following reforms are essential:
- Move away from cabinet-centered decision-making and strengthen parliamentary debate, transparency, and accountability
- Establish a constitutional court independent from the Supreme Court to serve as a guardian of law
- Institutionalize transparency and reflection—create systems that allow for honest examination and correction of failures
For a nation to be sincere toward its citizens, its institutions must be transparent, honest, and ethically intelligible. Institutions are the final field where ethics must be embodied.
IV. Discomfort with Conservatism Detached from Ethics
What deeply unsettles me is the kind of conservative discourse that speaks of “patriotism” while lacking any ethical foundation. The nation they describe feels hollow—morally unaccountable, devoid of fundamental questions like: What is a nation? What is governance? Who are the people?
They do not reflect on Japan’s prewar mistakes. Instead, they trace the surface of words and shout “pride” without substance.
1. The Shallowness of Unquestioned Historical Language
When Junko Mihara used the phrase Hakkō Ichiu in a positive light, it was not merely the revival of a slogan—it was a reckless disregard for historical responsibility and ethical context.
Hakkō Ichiu (“Eight Corners of the World Under One Roof”) was used to justify Japan’s imperial expansion, including invasions of China, the Korean Peninsula, and Southeast Asia. To romanticize it as a timeless national value is a violent misunderstanding of history—especially for those who lived under occupation.
When words are severed from thought and used as emotional symbols, conservatism ceases to be conservatism. It becomes mere historical revisionism.
2. Reactionary Conservatism Without Ethics
Much of today’s conservative rhetoric is built around opposition: anti-China, anti-Korea, anti-liberalism. But it rarely answers the question: What ethics are you defending?
- They condemn foreign aggression but glorify Japan’s own prewar invasions
- They claim to uphold democracy but resist deliberation and debate
- They speak of protecting the people but show indifference to the vulnerable and marginalized
This is not principled conservatism—it is reaction without ethics.
3. The Irony of the Young Officers and Ikki Kita
I find deep irony in the fact that prewar young officers were captivated by Ikki Kita. Kita held socialist views, rejected the aristocracy and privileged classes, and advocated governance by the citizenry. The young officers, by contrast, pledged loyalty to the Emperor and embraced idealistic nationalism.
Why did these ideologically incompatible figures converge? Because they shared a common thread: an urgent ethical desire to correct the corruption and injustice of the state.
Ironically, that ethical impulse found expression only through violent means, culminating in the tragedy of the February 26 Incident. Yet I believe their “ethical urgency” carried a depth of pain and sincerity far greater than the shallow conservatism we see today.
4. Conservatism Must Begin with Ethics
True conservatism is not merely about preserving tradition and culture. It must also involve a continual ethical inquiry into what a nation should be, and how power ought to be exercised. Without this, conservatism devolves into nostalgia or authoritarianism.
I do not measure political positions by “right or left,” but by whether they are ethical. Because the true purpose of thought is to imbue the nation—a vast apparatus of power—with ethics.
V. Internalizing National Ethics: The True Core of Conservatism
Japan’s postwar trajectory has been shaped by a tension between moral reflection and strategic compromise. Defeat in war was not merely a military loss—it was the exposure of a deeper failure: the betrayal of ethical imagination by the very concept of the nation.
1. Postwar Education as a Foundation for Ethical Renewal
If any ethical fragments remained in postwar Japan, they were found in the newly enacted Constitution and the educational system built upon it.
- Pacifism and the renunciation of war
- Respect for fundamental human rights
- Sovereignty residing in the people
- Equal opportunity in education
These were not just institutional principles. They were ethical foundations for a new national vision. Yet they were never fully internalized. Instead, they were politicized, diluted, or sidelined.
Ironically, these values—acquired through defeat—should have been most cherished by conservatives. They offered a chance to rebuild the nation not through pride, but through ethical clarity.
2. Conservatism as the Practice of Ethical Reflection
True conservatism is not blind reverence for tradition. It is the sustained effort to extract ethics from history and pass them forward. When a nation errs, it must possess the strength to recount those errors and reconstruct its ethical foundation—otherwise, it will repeat them.
We, born of defeat, must not reject that reality as shame. We must accept it as the starting point for imagining a new ethical nation.
3. Becoming a Nation Worthy of Respect
Respect is not earned through economic or military power alone. It comes from how faithfully a nation adheres to the ethical standards it sets for itself.
- Facing its own mistakes with sincerity
- Expressing clear international stances grounded in ethical judgment
- Listening to minority voices and refusing to abandon the vulnerable
A nation that steadily builds these practices earns the world’s trust and respect. And that posture is shaped not only by the state, but by the ethical capacity of each citizen.
Final Chapter: Conservatism as Ethical Inheritance
The nation is not a monument to pride, but a vessel for ethical memory. What we inherit is not glory, but the responsibility to reflect, to revise, and to transmit.
Postwar Japan was offered a rare opportunity: To rebuild not from triumph, but from ethical reckoning. Yet this reckoning was never fully embraced. The Constitution, the pacifist ethos, the educational reforms—these were not internalized as ethical commitments, but tolerated as political necessities.
True conservatism begins here: Not with nostalgia, but with the courage to preserve what is ethically sound, even if born of defeat. To conserve is not to cling to symbols, but to carry forward the values that make a nation worthy of respect.
A nation earns dignity not by asserting its past, but by confronting it. And in doing so, it must ask: What do we choose to remember? What do we choose to forget? And what do we dare to imagine as our ethical future?
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