A scheme to send each Japanese household two cloth masks, at a cost of ¥47bn ($436m) to taxpayers, generated scorn. Detractors dubbed the programme “Abenomasks”, a play on “Abenomics”. When the masks started to arrive, many were dirty and defective and, for most people, too small; entire regions have yet to receive any. “Is that really public policy?” asks Sone Yasunori of Keio University.
The government’s economic stimulus measures have been similarly ham-fisted. Mr Abe backtracked on an initial plan to give struggling households ¥300,000 each, shifting instead to a universal ¥100,000 handout favoured by his Liberal Democratic Party’s coalition partner, Komeito. The result looked “muddled instead of decisive”, says Phillip Lipscy of the University of Toronto. The government has yet to dole out the cash; individuals will have to brave a bureaucratic gauntlet to obtain it. Loans and other support measures for businesses have come wrapped in red tape. More than 285,000 businesses inquired about subsidies to put employees on leave, but only 1.9% of them have actually received any payments. Meanwhile, the economy is officially in recession, having shrunk by 3.4% at an annual rate in the first quarter of the year and by 7.3% at the end of last year.
Throughout the pandemic Mr Abe has devoted lots of attention to a controversial plan to raise the retirement age for prosecutors—widely seen as a way to keep allies around. Normally apolitical celebrities waded in to denounce the move on social media. “In the midst of the coronavirus calamity, we should focus on people’s lives,” wrote Miyamoto Amon, a director of musicals and plays. Even Mr Abe’s friends in the conservative media voiced concerns. On May 18th Mr Abe finally backed down. “Day by day, Mr Abe is losing his centripetal force, not only in the government but in the ruling party,” says Toshikawa Takao, editor of Tokyo Insideline, a political newsletter.
Nonetheless, the prime minister remains the unchallenged centre of Japan’s political universe. The inept opposition is “not really taking advantage of this situation”, says Ms Nakabayashi. Although voters during the pandemic have preferred the more decisive leadership of governors such as Tokyo’s Koike Yuriko and Osaka’s Yoshimura Hirofumi, moving from local to national politics is tricky. Ms Koike’s party flopped at national elections in 2017. Mr Abe’s ruling Liberal Democratic Party remains dominant in the polls, and his challengers inside the party have stayed quiet. “People distrust his leadership,” says Mr Toshikawa. “But at the same time they recognise there is no alternative national leader at this moment.” ■
