Japanese nationalism: abominable or trendy?

The rise to power this week of Shinzo Abe, Japan's new prime minister, has spread ripples of concern through the global press. Abe's commitment to "hawkish conservatism" in shaping a more assertive Japanese foreign policy foreshadows a new dawn for militarism in the Land of the Rising Sun. Once feared for its cars, Japan under Abe threatens to resurrect its bristling guns... or, at least, its samurai brashness. Listen, for instance, to the rumbling in Martin Jacques' column in today's Guardian. Jacques insists that Japan's reluctant apologies and Abe's unrepentant silence on WWII are a recipe for regional fracas:

"The Japanese ruling establishment has long fought shy of coming to terms with the country's role in the war. The most that it has uttered is a formulaic apology that Koizumi again repeated after the anti-Japanese riots in China last year. There has been nothing like the cathartic process that Germany has undertaken since 1945. Abe has even refused to endorse the ritualised apology that was first issued in 1995. It would appear that he sees little or nothing to apologise about.

The argument is not simply about history; it is crucial to Japan's relations with its east Asian neighbours. Japan's aggression in China and Korea remains a huge source of resentment in these countries; its failure to apologise only serving to intensify their sense of grievance. The election of Abe threatens to exacerbate these tensions."

I wonder, though, to what extent this new Japan - as, surely, it has become under the Blair-inspired guidance of Abe's predecessor Junichiro Koizumi - is responsible for its recent bouts of nationalism. What commentators see (and foresee) in Abe's Japan is not really an atavistic turn to the past, but a reflection of the zeitgeist of contemporary geopolitics.

Japan is, in a sense, surrounded by reinvigorated jingoists. Major players in Asia - India, China, South Korea - have all quickened to the nationalist pulse: Hindu chauvinists, chest-thumping capitalists, pro-nuclear activists all sing the praises of an "India Shining;" in east Asia, South Korea and China stake much of their national identity on the wounds of WWII, increasingly defining their nationhoods in opposition to Japan (the Chinese government did little to mitigate the great groundswell of rage in last year's anti-Japanese riots); in southeast Asia, the legacy of "Asian Values" lingers, instilling in its many adherents and spokesmen a sense of cultural and national distinctness. Across the ocean, the Bush administration has played on the symbols and heart-strings of American identity to an unprecedented degree. (And one could add more examples of current burgeoning nationalisms in regions of no direct import to Japan, be it in Central Asia, Spain, and so forth).

The truth is that, despite living in the squish-squashed era of globalisation, the "nation" has taken on added importance for many people (and governments) around the world. It is an undeniable trend of sorts, that though ugly (little good can ever come from modern-day nationalism, which almost always inures regimes in power from criticism), should not be seen as an isolated occurrence, the short-sightedness of one country, one party, or one 52-year-old recently-elected prime minister.

Jacques notes Abe's relative youth (at 52, he is the youngest ever Japanese PM, and the first to be born after The War) in a critical light, as if the lessons of the past are lost on this brash young pup. Perhaps Jacques would extend this criticism to Abe's newly-appointed cabinet, the youngest and most hawkish in recent Japanese history.

A more sensitive reading is required, further questions must be raised: when global power is increasingly fragmented, doesn't a sovereign Japanese state need the vigor and "youthfulness" of Abe's administration to stake its claim on an unsettled global stage? And can we blame it?