A Back-Room Man Steps Forward

By Howard G. Chua-Eoan

In the harsh glare of television lights and strobe flashes, the 63-year-old man seemed tired. His fatigue was understandable. For months, Noboru Takeshita had been the front runner among three candidates to succeed Yasuhiro Nakasone, Japan's popular Prime Minister. But though he controlled the largest bloc of votes in the ruling Liberal Democratic Party (L.D.P.), Takeshita did not have enough to take the office outright. Negotiations to persuade his rivals to withdraw were deadlocked. By 10 p.m. on the eve of a party vote, Takeshita, the consummate dealmaker, had realized there were no more deals to make. He reluctantly left the final decision to Nakasone, leader of the party. The Prime Minister might well have ignored Takeshita's party clout and chosen his rival, former Foreign Minister Shintaro Abe, a politician cut from the same cloth as Nakasone. Finally, minutes after midnight, the verdict arrived: Takeshita would be the next Prime Minister.

Living up to the standards set by Nakasone will be difficult. Newspaper commentators have already compared Takeshita unfavorably with the Prime Minister. The five-year reign of the dynamic, much traveled Nakasone put Japan on the world map -- and the rest of the world on Japan's map. Takeshita's slight international experience is a painful shortcoming. His penchant for the slow process of consensus may also be a dangerous anachronism, the product of an age that Tokyo seems to have outgrown. Says Seizaburo Sato, a political scientist at the University of Tokyo: "If Takeshita had been elected in the 1960s, he would have been a very fine Prime Minister. But unfortunately he comes too late."

No one, however, disputes Takeshita's mastery of the intricacies of Japanese domestic politics. For 400 years members of the Takeshita family have run matters in the mountain town of Kakeyamachi (pop. 4,500) on the western side of Japan. With politics in his blood, the somber young man worked his way up from the grass roots into the upper hierarchy of the L.D.P., winning a seat in the Diet in 1958 and serving as Finance Minister under two Prime Ministers. Last year he became the party's secretary general. "Takeshita knew everyone's name," says a government official. "Unlike other politicians, he took great personal interest in you, no matter what your rank." His care and diligence paid off. Among the many feuding factions that make up the L.D.P., Takeshita leads the largest -- 114 members of 445 party members in the Diet.

That bloc worked to his advantage against his rivals for the prime ministership. While former Foreign Minister Shintaro Abe could boast of wide- ranging international contacts and Finance Minister Kiichi Miyazawa could traipse through Japan's bureaucratic jungle blindfolded, Takeshita had the greatest leverage in the party itself.

Last summer Takeshita and Abe began negotiations to pool their votes on the condition that one scrap his candidacy in favor of the other. With the support of a third faction, the coalition would field a total of 231 votes. But talks bogged down. Last week three-way discussions with Miyazawa got nowhere. Meanwhile, Takeshita was well short of the 223 votes required to take the L.D.P. presidency. As party boss, the president automatically becomes Prime Minister.

Enter Nakasone. When negotiations broke down early last week, two of the contenders sought binding arbitration from the Prime Minister. Takeshita resisted. He was unsure whether he would get Nakasone's backing, since the two have had their political differences. But Takeshita finally relented and agreed to accept Nakasone's verdict. With that, Abe was touted by reporters and political pros as the likely compromise candidate. Some of Takeshita's men agreed.

But Nakasone realized that Takeshita, with his larger faction and political skills, would have an easier time getting his programs passed in the Diet. Nakasone is also certain to be a major influence in the new government. "Takeshita is not a stubborn man and will easily relinquish control of foreign policy matters to Nakasone," predicted a Miyazawa supporter. Some journalists have already tagged the new government "Sonetake."

Most Japanese will be relieved at Nakasone's continued presence. Many believed he helped paper over the worsening economic ties between the U.S. and Japan. The Reagan Administration, however, moved quickly to bolt together a Noboru-Ron concord along the lines of the vaunted Yasu-Ron friendship. After Nakasone made his choice known, Reagan telephoned Takeshita for a 15-minute chat. "Mind if I call you Noboru? Just call me Ron," the President reportedly said. But Takeshita, reticent about calling anyone but the closest of friends by their given names, called Reagan Mr. President.

Nakasone leaves his successor several sticky economic problems. Chief among them is Japan's $1 trillion total national debt. Nakasone unsuccessfully sought to battle the deficit by encouraging manufacturing exports. When international opinion turned against that drive, he began an expensive program to pump up domestic consumption. Tightfisted fiscal policies put ceilings on government spending but failed to cut the deficit. Nakasone was also unable to overhaul Japan's antiquated tax code and wring out much needed revenue. Says Kimihiro Masamura, an economist at Tokyo's Senshu University: "Mr. Nakasone almost flunked economic policy."

In the long run, the brash Nakasone style may have contributed little more than atmospherics to Japan's complex play of economic and political challenges. Takeshita, who is to be confirmed as Prime Minister by the Diet next week, will need to rely on his dealmaking skills to provide the muscle to back up permanent policy changes. For the time being, however, he can bask in the glow of victory, the latest survivor of the shadowy wars of Japanese succession.

With reporting by Barry Hillenbrand and Yukinori Ishikawa/Tokyo