TOKYO: In a busy train station outside of Tokyo, the late afternoon activity is perforated by the voice of Sohei Kamiya, the leader of the Sanseito party, as he stands on an improvised platform, encircled by many supporters with flags and holding placards. His message is blasting and not defensive — Japan and the Japanese should come first.
As Kamiya rails against what he calls the “growing foreign influence” in Japan, chants of support erupt. Across the street, opponents shout back — “Racist!” — their voices rising over the police barricades, but Kamiya remains steady, brushing off criticism with a firm declaration that he is just saying what ordinary people are thinking.
Once a fringe voice, Kamiya is now gaining traction. His Sanseito party, although small, made unexpected gains in July’s parliamentary elections, and with the ruling Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) preparing to elect a new leader — and thus Japan’s next prime minister — Kamiya’s nationalistic rhetoric is finding echoes in the mainstream.
As Japan grapples with economic uncertainty — stagnant wages, soaring prices, and a rapidly ageing population — many feel left behind. Kamiya’s “Japanese First” platform speaks to those fears, promising protection, identity, and control.
Japan is facing a demographic crisis with no easy answers. Its population is not only shrinking, but ageing rapidly. With one of the world’s lowest birthrates, the country now relies heavily on foreign workers — in factories, farms, and care homes — to keep its economy afloat.
Last year, Japan’s foreign populace totalled more than 3.7 million, roughly 3% of the overall population. The foreign labour force has gone more than threefold in just a decade — a shift that’s beyond what policy-makers have expected.
However, even with this increasing need, anxiety is growing. Misinformation and fear have sparked protests — most recently over a cancelled job-training program with several African nations, after online rumours falsely claimed it would bring an uncontrolled influx of migrants.
Even within the traditionally pro-business LDP, the mood is shifting. All five contenders vying to replace Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba have pledged to tighten immigration policies. None, however, has explained how Japan plans to sustain its workforce without foreign labour.
In Yokohama, a city known for its diverse population, Kamiya took the stage again, his tone resolute. “We must protect the peaceful lives and safety of Japanese citizens,” he declared. “People who come here must accept the Japanese way. If they don’t, it causes friction.”
It’s a message that resonates with many — especially in a culture where harmony and conformity are deeply valued. “Why are Japanese people suffering while foreigners are given jobs and support?” Kamiya asked, to applause. “We are not racist — we are realists.”
His words speak to a long history of unease around outsiders. Ethnic Koreans and Chinese, many of whom have lived in Japan for generations, still face barriers rooted in old prejudices. More recent arrivals — such as Kurdish refugees or Vietnamese labourers — often face suspicion, abuse, or exploitation.
Hoang Vinh Tien, a 44-year-old Vietnamese man who has lived in Japan for over 20 years, says he’s experienced bias in everything from wages to housing.
Nationalist rhetoric is becoming more common — not just from fringe voices. One leading LDP candidate, Sanae Takaichi, recently drew criticism for sharing a rumour that foreign tourists had mistreated sacred deer in her hometown. She later walked back the claim.
During the parliamentary campaign, far-right candidates also targeted the small Kurdish community, accusing them of criminal behaviour. For many in these communities, such attacks are not just political — they’re deeply personal.
Behind this growing nationalist sentiment is a tangle of real anxieties: economic insecurity, cultural change, and fear of the unknown. For many political leaders, these concerns are expedient — easy to tap into, not easy to work out.
Can Japan stay strong by shutting itself off from the world? Or does it need to find novel ways of living and thriving collectively?
