Japan's Sanae Takaichi Wins Landslide Election Victory, Cementing Power as Country's First Female Prime Minister

When Takaichi dissolved the Lower House on January 23, the move was widely seen as a calculated gamble. She had pledged to resign if her coalition failed to secure a majority — a bold wager that reflected both her confidence in her personal popularity and the urgency of consolidating power before that popularity could erode.

The gamble was amplified by the timing. Sunday's vote was the first midwinter election Japan had held in 36 years, and blizzard conditions across much of the country tested voters' resolve. The transport ministry reported that 37 train lines and 58 ferry routes were closed, 230 domestic flights were cancelled, and snow depths exceeded two meters in parts of Niigata prefecture. Turnout stood at 21.6% with four hours remaining before polls closed — nearly three percentage points lower than at the same stage in the 2024 election.

Despite the weather, the result vindicated Takaichi's calculation. 'Takaichi now has the LDP and the technocrats exactly where she always wanted them,' economist Jesper Koll wrote on Substack. 'The LDP is now beholden to her; and the elite technocrats now know she'll be in power for at least two or three more years, so they have no choice but to invest their career in her success.' The opposition Centrist Reform Alliance, a recently formed merger of the Constitutional Democratic Party of Japan and the LDP's former coalition partner Komeito, was projected to suffer heavy losses, leaving questions about its political future.

Perhaps the most remarkable dimension of Takaichi's ascent has been her ability to generate genuine enthusiasm among younger voters — a demographic group that Japanese politicians have long struggled to mobilize. Her official X account boasts more than 2.6 million followers, dwarfing the 64,000 of Yoshihiko Noda, co-leader of the centrist opposition alliance. Videos of her playing drums with South Korean President Lee Jae Myung and singing 'Happy Birthday' in Italian to Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni have gone viral, cultivating an image of warmth and accessibility that stands in sharp contrast to the grey uniformity of Japan's political establishment.

'Even though I'm not that much into politics, pro-Takaichi videos are recommended to me a lot on YouTube,' Mana Suzuki, a 20-year-old Tokyo resident, told the Guardian. 'And there is almost no criticism of her in the comments section.' Supporters have drawn comparisons to baseball superstar Shohei Ohtani and have embraced her as Japan's 'commoner prime minister' — the daughter of a police officer and a car company employee who cites Margaret Thatcher as her inspiration.

Yuiko Fujita, an associate professor at Tokyo University, told the Nikkei that Takaichi's appeal lies partly in what she represents as a break from tradition. 'Until now, politics has been dominated by senior male figures,' Fujita said. 'The fact that the prime minister is now a woman, someone with a different background from what people are accustomed to, creates a feeling that something is shifting.' Yet observers note a tension in this appeal: Takaichi opposes allowing female members of the imperial family to become reigning empresses, insists that married couples should use the same surname — almost always the husband's — and shows no interest in challenging centuries of sumo tradition. Her popularity, it seems, rests less on progressive credentials than on the sheer novelty of her presence and the force of her personality.

Takaichi's spending plans have been central to her electoral appeal, but they have also generated significant anxiety in financial markets. She unveiled a record $783 billion budget for the fiscal year starting April 1, on top of a $135 billion stimulus package introduced late last year to ease cost-of-living pressures. Most provocatively, she promised to suspend the 8% consumption tax on food for two years — a measure estimated to cost ¥5 trillion ($30 billion) annually in lost revenue.

These pledges resonated with voters battered by Japan's worst inflation in decades. The country has endured consumer price increases above the Bank of Japan's 2% target for 45 consecutive months. Real wages fell for 11 consecutive months year-on-year in 2025, and on an annual basis, real wages have declined every year since 2022. The yen weakened further at the start of 2026, briefly approaching 160 against the U.S. dollar.

But critics, including many in the business community, question how Japan can afford such generosity when government debt already exceeds 260% of GDP. 'Markets could react in the following days, and the yen could come under renewed pressure,' warned Seiji Inada, managing director at the consultancy FGS Global. Kristi Govella, Japan Chair at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, noted that the victory reflects Takaichi's personal popularity rather than any improvement in economic fundamentals. 'Little else has changed since July when the LDP was drubbed at the polls,' Govella observed. The question now is whether Takaichi will use her mandate to push through the consumption tax suspension or whether market pressure will force a more cautious approach.

No issue has defined Takaichi's brief tenure more sharply than her confrontation with China. In November, she suggested that Japan could become involved militarily in the event of a Chinese attempt to invade Taiwan — a statement that broke with decades of careful ambiguity in Japanese foreign policy and provoked a fierce backlash from Beijing.

China responded by urging tourists not to visit Japan — advice that has been widely heeded — and warning young people against studying there, citing 'safety concerns.' Cultural exchanges have been disrupted, and in a symbolically potent move, China ended decades of 'panda diplomacy,' demanding the return of giant pandas on loan to Japanese zoos. Takaichi's refusal to walk back her remarks has only deepened the rift with Japan's largest trading partner.

Yet the confrontation has proved politically advantageous at home. Her hawkish stance has played well with voters increasingly concerned about Chinese assertiveness in the region, and it has earned her the endorsement of U.S. President Donald Trump, who announced plans to host her at the White House on March 19 and declared in a Truth Social post: 'It is my Honor to give a Complete and Total Endorsement of her.' Margarita Estévez-Abe, an associate professor of political science at Syracuse University, suggested that the election victory could paradoxically create space for reconciliation. 'Now she doesn't have to worry about any elections until 2028,' Estévez-Abe said. 'So the best scenario for Japan is that Takaichi kind of takes a deep breath and focuses on amending the relationship with China.'

The scale of Takaichi's victory has immediate legislative implications. If the ruling coalition achieves an absolute majority of 261 seats — a near certainty based on projections — it will control all parliamentary committees and committee chair positions, streamlining the passage of budgets and legislation. A supermajority of 310 seats, also well within reach, would give the coalition the power to override the Upper House, where the LDP-led alliance lost its majority in July 2025.

Economist Jesper Koll predicted that Takaichi would use this leverage to pursue an activist industrial policy. 'Watch for more state-directed initiatives to create national champions, leveraging the $550 billion U.S.-Japan investment deal to create a sense of urgency amongst reluctant CEOs,' Koll wrote. 'Japan's M&A boom will get turbo-charged to create greater economies of scale, and thus more credible global competitiveness — all this in the name of higher national economic security.'

Defense spending is also expected to rise significantly. Takaichi and Trump appear aligned on the need for Japan to invest more in its military capability, and the Trump endorsement has reinforced expectations of deeper U.S.-Japan security cooperation. Yet 'where the money is coming from' remains a pressing question for voters like Yuko Sakai, who told the BBC: 'I am concerned with what President Trump is doing as well as the national defence issues. Balancing budget spending between defence and people's life is a major concern for me.' The fractured and diminished opposition offers little prospect of a meaningful check on Takaichi's agenda, placing the burden of accountability squarely on financial markets, the media, and the prime minister's own political judgment.