In Japan, books written about Abe Shinzo, the country’s longest-serving prime minister, have become an industry unto themselves. However, most of them tend to reflect a partisan bias – perhaps fitting for such a controversial political figure, who once described himself as a “fighting politician.” At worst, his detractors have portrayed him as a would-be dictator, while his devotees have cast him as a messianic figure. More analytical assessments, meanwhile, have earned his foreign policy a strong reputation as pragmatic and realistic.

Yet, until recently, no full-length biography of Abe had been published, partly for the obvious reason that his death came so suddenly. The closest thing to a biographical study was Tobias Harris’ “The Iconoclast,” published in 2020. That has now changed. A more comprehensive biography on Abe by Hattori Ryuji, professor of Chuo University, was just released by Chuo Koron Shinsha.

Hattori’s short but detailed biography of Abe Shinzo could be regarded as a revisionist work in its own right, challenging the conventional wisdom – one that has also gained international currency – that Abe can be strictly characterized as a realist foreign policy thinker. Written by a diplomatic historian, the book focuses extensively on the foreign policy decisions made during Abe’s tenure as prime minister, drawing on newly declassified diplomatic documents that the author was able to access. Hattori’s conclusion is that, while Abe possessed a “remarkable strategic vision,” he was ultimately “an imperfect realist.”

Abe’s visionary thinking was an outlier in a country whose postwar prime ministers – almost all of them from the Liberal Democratic Party – were generally known for their conciliatory approach and skill in building intraparty coalitions. They were politicians more accustomed to working behind the scenes than articulating bold visions in public. 

Among Abe’s many foreign policy conceptions, the most famous was the “Free and Open Indo-Pacific,” a strategic vision that not only articulated Japan’s broader interests in the world but also encouraged other governments to adapt to a new century in which the influence and potential of the Indo-Pacific region had become greater than ever before. 

One of the clearest examples of the practical implementation of this vision was Abe’s promotion of free trade. His administration played a crucial role in bringing the Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership (CPTPP) to fruition after the United States withdrew from the original TPP, while also advancing the Japan-EU Economic Partnership Agreement and the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership (RCEP) negotiations.

However, while Abe’s vision of maintaining a liberal international order fostered a strong affinity with the West, his misconceptions and even biases may have constrained his ability to pursue constructive diplomacy in East Asia. This, in turn, highlights the imperfect side of Abe’s realism. According to Hattori’s account, Abe’s eagerness to reach deals with Russia and China may have led him to surrender valuable leverage – and, perhaps more importantly, some of the legitimacy underpinning Japan’s position on the disputed Senkaku Islands, which China claims as the Diaoyu. In negotiations with Beijing, this resulted in a memorandum that could be interpreted as acknowledging that a territorial dispute existed, even though Japan’s official position has long been that no such dispute exists. 

Abe also failed to achieve a breakthrough in his foreign policy toward the Korean Peninsula. He built a reputation as a champion of the Japanese citizens who had been abducted by North Korea. Yet he was ultimately unable to translate his hardline stance into a successful diplomatic strategy, nor was he willing to resort to inducements – the road not taken. 

Also, vis-à-vis South Korea, Abe never developed a genuine rapport with any of his counterparts, unlike some of his successors. His determination not to give an inch on historical controversies constrained his ability to compromise, plunging bilateral relations into their worst state since the normalization of diplomatic ties. Nevertheless, when Abe did in fact cede ground – as in the agreement with South Korea that acknowledged Japan’s remorse over the “comfort women” while framing the settlement of the issue as “final and irreversible” – his failure to follow through on the resulting rapprochement allowed the issue to resurface once there was a change in government in Seoul.

The apparent failure of Abe’s East Asian diplomacy is all the more remarkable given the influence of his grandfather, Kishi Nobusuke. Kishi instilled in his grandson a mission to right the wrongs of the U.S. occupation – most notably, by revising the pacifist Constitution – as well as a commitment to a strong alliance with the United States, which Kishi himself helped lay the foundation for by revising the security treaty on more equal terms.

Although Kishi was said to have been influenced by Pan-Asianism and understood the importance of maintaining good relations with Japan’s neighboring countries, the premium he placed on Asian diplomacy was not inherited by his grandson. In fact, Abe seemed emotionally incapable of identifying Japan with the East rather than the West. This sentiment was manifested in a book he co-authored in 1996, when he was still a rising young conservative. The book warned: “Such an excessive attachment to the idea that ‘we are a part of Asia’ can become a dangerous spark that, from a policy perspective, risks triggering fatal mistakes.”

To understand the limits of Abe’s realism, it is necessary to identify the factors that prevented him from fully realizing the realist ideal. These included his historical perceptions, his strong concern with his political legacy, and his sense of duty and personal sentiment. Taken together, these characteristics suggest that Abe may be better understood as an idealist in the broader sense: a political actor who sought to translate deeply held beliefs and principles into political reality, regardless of the distance between his ideals and the circumstances he faced.

Hattori himself does not characterize Abe as an idealist. Nevertheless, his contribution in questioning the realist label so often attached to Abe as a foreign policy strategist represents a meaningful starting point for a more clear-eyed and constructive discussion of a politician who continues to evoke considerable passion and controversy. 

More pages will be written about Abe, both domestically and abroad, in the years ahead. And with every page turned, the present will see how much of a mark he left on Japan.