Sanae Takaichi is set to become the first female Prime Minister of Japan. Miku Matsunaga and Jochen Rehmert write that much like Giorgia Meloni and Marine Le Pen, Takaichi has a complex relationship with gender equality.
On 4 October, Sanae Takaichi, a hardline conservative politician, was elected as the first female president of Japan’s Liberal Democratic Party (LDP), making her the designated next Prime Minister of Japan. Her victory immediately drew domestic and international attention, raising questions about whether Japan is making progress on gender equality.
Takaichi’s election stands out because there are clear gendered differences in the political careers of men and women across the world. Research we have conducted in Germany and another nine democracies including Japan and the UK shows that parties on the right of the political spectrum tend to have fewer women in their ranks and that these women tend to have shorter political careers, undermining their bids for the highest offices.
Yet in recent years, some European women have had success by adopting hardline stances. Marine Le Pen, Giorgia Meloni and Alice Weidel have all gained credibility by combining nationalist rhetoric with visible leadership. They have been strategically promoted by parties to broaden their appeal, while their hardline stances have countered gendered doubts about their authority. In Meloni’s case, this model has been enough to win power in Italy.
Takaichi has followed a similar path, building her prominence within the LDP by aligning with conservative networks and positions on security and border control. But there are nevertheless some important differences in both her approach to leadership and the Japanese political context.
Gender equality in Japan
While Japan is widely regarded as a global economic and democratic power, it consistently lags behind in gender equality. According to the World Economic Forum, Japan ranked 118th out of 148 countries in 2025. In politics, the share of women in Japan’s lower house, the House of Representatives, increased to 15.7% at the 2024 general election, but this was still the lowest share among OECD countries.
The upper house of the Japanese Parliament, the House of Councillors, performs slightly better (29.4%) but also has a persistent gender imbalance. This imbalance is visible across Japanese society. Female students account for only around 20% of enrolments at prestigious national universities such as the University of Tokyo and Kyoto University. In the labour market, women remain underrepresented in senior corporate roles, while many are concentrated in precarious, part-time employment.
This gender gap is deep-rooted in Japan’s cultural and institutional history. Confucian norms and a patriarchal order have long emphasised hierarchical family roles and male dominance. The Ie (household) system, institutionalised until 1947, legally entrenched this norm. Women gained suffrage only in 1945 and formal equality in employment law in 1985, yet the expectation that women should prioritise domestic responsibilities has endured.
Gender roles remain a deeply polarised issue today. Resistance to dual surnames for married couples, for instance, symbolises ongoing barriers to reform. The ideal of ryosai kenbo (“good wife, wise mother”) still influences social expectations, reinforced by demanding workplace cultures that restrict women’s career prospects. Even when reaching leadership positions, women face double standards, media scrutiny and tokenism. Symbolic achievements are often mistaken for systemic progress, masking the structural barriers that prevent most women from advancing.
Early-stage female empowerment
Postwar Japanese politics has long been dominated by men, particularly within the hierarchical structure of the LDP. Proposals for quotas or targets occasionally surfaced, but in contrast to some European countries, Japan has lacked binding mechanisms to secure women’s representation. This absence matters because research shows that greater female participation raises the visibility of gender-related issues historically sidelined in policymaking.
The career of Takako Doi illustrates the promise and the limits of women’s early political breakthroughs. Doi became the first woman to lead the Japan Socialist Party (JSP) and the first female Prime Minister nominee in the House of Councillors in 1989. She was appointed the first female Speaker of the House of Representatives in 1993.
Between the late 1980s and early 1990s, she gained broad popularity, especially among women and younger voters. Yet, her career stalled due to entrenched barriers: gender bias within her party, resistance to progressive reform, the weakness of the JSP and her lack of factional support. Her prominence briefly expanded political horizons for women but underscored how systemic obstacles prevent lasting change.
Is Sanae Takaichi’s election a turning point?
Takaichi’s victory directly challenges the assumption that Japanese political leadership must be male. A veteran lawmaker and former Minister of Internal Affairs and Communications, she is closely aligned with the conservative agenda of former Prime Minister Shinzo Abe, advocating constitutional revision, stronger defence and economic security. Her ascent represents both continuity in ideology and disruption of gender norms.
Her leadership is groundbreaking, but only symbolically and not structurally. By breaking the “glass ceiling”, she has demonstrated that women without a legacy can rise to the top of the ruling party. Yet, whether her victory will usher in a political environment open to female talents remains uncertain. She won the presidency at her third attempt, after two unsuccessful bids in previous years. Cynics may point to the role played by Taro Aso, an ultra-conservative who brokered votes in Takaichi’s favour to keep out the more pragmatic Junichiro Koizumi.
Alongside the mechanics of her ascent to power, Takaichi’s views also raise doubts about Japan’s progress toward gender equality. She has personally expressed scepticism about gender quotas and has not prioritised workplace equality, reminding us that descriptive representation does not automatically yield feminist policy reforms. Her case illustrates that women can thrive within conservative, male-dominated institutions while leaving systemic inequalities largely intact.
At the same time, the broader impact of her election on Japan’s gender norms remains contested. On the one hand, Takaichi’s rise signals a symbolic departure from entrenched male exclusivity in political leadership and might facilitate a reimagining of women’s potential roles in public life.
On the other hand, her reluctance to embrace feminist reforms and her alignment with traditional conservative agendas reveal that systemic barriers remain deeply embedded. This paradox underscores the resilience of Japan’s patriarchal structures: women can now reach the highest levels of power, but without altering the cultural and institutional foundations that continue to limit gender equality.
A new trend for women?
Giorgia Meloni and Marine Le Pen have had similarly complex relationships with gender equality. Le Pen and Meloni rarely advance gender-equality reforms, instead emphasising traditional family roles and national identity. Takaichi mirrors this approach by downplaying feminist agendas in favour of economic and defence issues.
While women can break into top political roles, their survival often depends on aligning with ideological frameworks that reinforce, rather than challenge patriarchal norms. Furthermore, the effectiveness of the strategy varies across electorates and issue salience. Framing women’s empowerment through nationalist politics may also marginalise minority women.
Taken together, these cases highlight a paradox. Hardline stances may open opportunities for female politicians, but they do not dismantle structural gender barriers. Instead, they show how women can achieve breakthroughs while simultaneously advancing agendas that limit broader progress on equality. Takaichi, like her European counterparts, demonstrates both possibilities.
Nevertheless, soaring public support and stock prices on the Nikkei index indicate high expectations for Takaichi. Hopefully, her leadership – should she manage to muster enough votes in the House of Representatives in which the LDP currently does not by itself hold a majority – will facilitate a more inclusive society for future generations.
Note: This article gives the views of the authors, not the position of EUROPP – European Politics and Policy or the London School of Economics. Featured image credit: Dean Calma / IAEA (CC BY 2.0)
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