THE MILLIBANDS
Britain's Labour Party elected a new leader while I was in England. After a complicated four rounds of voting, younger brother Ed Milliband (ex-Climate Change and Energy Secretary) finally beat elder brother David Milliband (ex-Foreign Secretary) by 50% and a bit to 50% less a bit. David was the favourite, and was ahead during the first three rounds (when the other three candidates dropped out one by one). In Labour's quirky electoral college, he also won the support of the majority of MP's and the majority of party members. However, Ed's support in the third section, the trade unions and other affiliated bodies, was just enough to tip the balance when it mattered, allowing him to squeak home in the final round of voting.
As a political contest, I thought that it was a yawn, despite the fact that the new leader has a fair chance of becoming the country's next Prime Minister (particularly if the coalition's forthcoming cuts make it desperately unpopular). Not only had it been going on since just after the Election, when Gordon Brown resigned as leader, but four of the five candidates were nearly identical Oxbridge-educated career politicians (the fifth, Diane Abbott, was black, left-wing and a woman, a combination which duly doomed her to first round oblivion). I am sure I am being unfair to someone, somewhere when I say this; but I suspect it is probably what most voters felt as well.
As an exercise in family psychology, on the other hand, it was riveting. What ambitious sibling wants to take on their other ambitious sibling in a winner-takes-all contest, in which the only certainty is that at least one of them will lose? When it was all over, there was lots of "I love my brother, he's a wonderful guy" stuff. But David Milliband's smile looked decidedly tight, and his decision not to seek a post in Ed's Shadow Cabinet showed that brotherly loyalty has its limits. Christmas dinner with mum is unlikely to be as jovial this year as it has been in the past.
Walter Blotscher
Thursday, 30 September 2010
Wednesday, 29 September 2010
LONDON'S RAILWAY TERMINI
You get no Brownie points for being a pioneer. Britain's early industrial revolution and the rapid expansion of the railways in the laissez faire 19th century resulted in about a dozen separate mainline railway stations in London, more than any other capital city. But the combination of three different and largely incompatible power sources (diesel, overhead electric and third rail) and a lack of connections between stations led to two unwelcome consequences. First, it allowed for a huge increase in commuters into London (commuters are difficult for railways to manage, since they require large amounts of rolling stock which are idle for most of the day, sophisticated signalling systems, which are similarly underutilised, and complex manning rosters). Secondly, however, passengers wishing to go through London had to disembark into a taxi or onto the Underground, and then reimbark at another station before continuing their journey. My brother worked for the railways for all of his working life, and once told me that he reckoned the London "bottleneck" represented 80% of the company's national operational problems.
From the Second World War until the end of the 1980's, it was physically impossible to cross London without changing trains; in contrast to (say) Paris, with its RER crosstown connections. In 1989, the reopening of the Snow Hill tunnel between Farringdon and what is now City Thameslink, disused since 1916, allowed through services from Bedford and Luton in the north to Brighton in the south. This was later joined by the reintroduction of passenger services on the West London line north-south from Willesden Junction to Clapham Junction. But it is still impossible to go east-west. The Crossrail project, connecting Paddington and the west (including Heathrow Airport) to Liverpool Street and the east via Bond Street and Tottenham Court Road, has been on the drawing board for decades, and finally got started last year, with a projected operating date of 2017. However, with a lot of brand new tunnelling under one of the world's busiest town centres, it is expensive; it will be interesting to see if it survives the draconian cuts in public services that the coalition Government will be introducing in a month or so.
In general, I don't think that the U.K. does big transport infrastructure projects very well. The planning system is unwieldy, public money scarce, the NIMBY (not in my back yard) mentality large. Until not so long ago, the only way to get to Heathrow, the world's busiest international airport, was on the trundly Piccadilly line; contrast that with the international train services from Schiphol or Frankfurt directly underneath the arrivals terminal. Even now, you can only go from Heathrow to Paddington, where you again face the disconnection point outlined above.
Against that background, it is perhaps surprising that a fair proportion of the capital's railway stations have in fact managed to get modernised in recent years. St. Pancras, now the home of the Eurostar trains to the continent, looks stunning, and will look even better once the architecturally fantastic Victorian hotel reopens. Liverpool Street in the City has also been given a major improvement, and even Charing Cross and Victoria look perkier. The services out of them are not necessarily brilliant - they are certainly expensive - but at least you get to wait in more congenial surroundings.
The other problem with London is on the freight side. In a world conscious of climate change, there is much to be said for direct freight trains from the continent, with one large engine replacing lots of smaller lorries. However, even if the bottleneck around London is slightly easier for freight than for passengers, there is still the problem of continental loading gauges. Track sizes are the same, but the majority of Britain's railways use narrower loading gauges, meaning that the wider continental freight trains can't pass through the tunnels and under the bridges. The only big railway line built to continental loading gauge standards was the Great Central from Manchester to London Marylebone via Sheffield, Nottingham and Leicester. Unfortunately, that was the only major line axed under Beeching in the 1960's; just the commuter trains at the southern end survive.
I used to know a guy at University who was a bit of a railway nut. He had this great idea for reopening the Great Central, much of whose basic infrastructure remains intact, and linking a big new freight depot in the Midlands directly with Milan or Dortmund. There would be some fiddling around London, and some bridge and tunnel widening on the way to Dover; but it could be done relatively cheaply, certainly for less than a new line. And lorry traffic between the channel ports and Scotland, Ireland, the north of England and the Midlands would be drastically reduced, cutting both congestion in the south and overall emissions. He was working on it during the 1980's and he was working on it when he unexpectedly died in 2004. The ideas are still around, but they are also still pretty much on the drawing board. As I say, the U.K. doesn't do big transport infrastructure projects very well.
Walter Blotscher
You get no Brownie points for being a pioneer. Britain's early industrial revolution and the rapid expansion of the railways in the laissez faire 19th century resulted in about a dozen separate mainline railway stations in London, more than any other capital city. But the combination of three different and largely incompatible power sources (diesel, overhead electric and third rail) and a lack of connections between stations led to two unwelcome consequences. First, it allowed for a huge increase in commuters into London (commuters are difficult for railways to manage, since they require large amounts of rolling stock which are idle for most of the day, sophisticated signalling systems, which are similarly underutilised, and complex manning rosters). Secondly, however, passengers wishing to go through London had to disembark into a taxi or onto the Underground, and then reimbark at another station before continuing their journey. My brother worked for the railways for all of his working life, and once told me that he reckoned the London "bottleneck" represented 80% of the company's national operational problems.
From the Second World War until the end of the 1980's, it was physically impossible to cross London without changing trains; in contrast to (say) Paris, with its RER crosstown connections. In 1989, the reopening of the Snow Hill tunnel between Farringdon and what is now City Thameslink, disused since 1916, allowed through services from Bedford and Luton in the north to Brighton in the south. This was later joined by the reintroduction of passenger services on the West London line north-south from Willesden Junction to Clapham Junction. But it is still impossible to go east-west. The Crossrail project, connecting Paddington and the west (including Heathrow Airport) to Liverpool Street and the east via Bond Street and Tottenham Court Road, has been on the drawing board for decades, and finally got started last year, with a projected operating date of 2017. However, with a lot of brand new tunnelling under one of the world's busiest town centres, it is expensive; it will be interesting to see if it survives the draconian cuts in public services that the coalition Government will be introducing in a month or so.
In general, I don't think that the U.K. does big transport infrastructure projects very well. The planning system is unwieldy, public money scarce, the NIMBY (not in my back yard) mentality large. Until not so long ago, the only way to get to Heathrow, the world's busiest international airport, was on the trundly Piccadilly line; contrast that with the international train services from Schiphol or Frankfurt directly underneath the arrivals terminal. Even now, you can only go from Heathrow to Paddington, where you again face the disconnection point outlined above.
Against that background, it is perhaps surprising that a fair proportion of the capital's railway stations have in fact managed to get modernised in recent years. St. Pancras, now the home of the Eurostar trains to the continent, looks stunning, and will look even better once the architecturally fantastic Victorian hotel reopens. Liverpool Street in the City has also been given a major improvement, and even Charing Cross and Victoria look perkier. The services out of them are not necessarily brilliant - they are certainly expensive - but at least you get to wait in more congenial surroundings.
The other problem with London is on the freight side. In a world conscious of climate change, there is much to be said for direct freight trains from the continent, with one large engine replacing lots of smaller lorries. However, even if the bottleneck around London is slightly easier for freight than for passengers, there is still the problem of continental loading gauges. Track sizes are the same, but the majority of Britain's railways use narrower loading gauges, meaning that the wider continental freight trains can't pass through the tunnels and under the bridges. The only big railway line built to continental loading gauge standards was the Great Central from Manchester to London Marylebone via Sheffield, Nottingham and Leicester. Unfortunately, that was the only major line axed under Beeching in the 1960's; just the commuter trains at the southern end survive.
I used to know a guy at University who was a bit of a railway nut. He had this great idea for reopening the Great Central, much of whose basic infrastructure remains intact, and linking a big new freight depot in the Midlands directly with Milan or Dortmund. There would be some fiddling around London, and some bridge and tunnel widening on the way to Dover; but it could be done relatively cheaply, certainly for less than a new line. And lorry traffic between the channel ports and Scotland, Ireland, the north of England and the Midlands would be drastically reduced, cutting both congestion in the south and overall emissions. He was working on it during the 1980's and he was working on it when he unexpectedly died in 2004. The ideas are still around, but they are also still pretty much on the drawing board. As I say, the U.K. doesn't do big transport infrastructure projects very well.
Walter Blotscher
Tuesday, 28 September 2010
STANSTED AIRPORT (2)
Much to my surprise, I managed this morning to go through Stansted Airport, from rental car drop-off to check-in, security, transit shuttle and finally gate, in about 14 minutes flat. That was undoubtedly efficient and almost pleasurable.
It is still a butt ugly airport, though. And the security people still chat all the time. And there was no coffee shop in my gate area. And no Times newspaper in W.H.Smith's. You get the point; I am not a fan.
Still, every cloud has its silver lining. When I got home and inspected my mole traps, I found two dead moles, one in each trap. Puffed up with martial pride, I then went off to play bridge, and promptly bid and made 6 hearts doubled with only 9 high card points in my hand. Now that doesn't happen very often.
Walter Blotscher
Much to my surprise, I managed this morning to go through Stansted Airport, from rental car drop-off to check-in, security, transit shuttle and finally gate, in about 14 minutes flat. That was undoubtedly efficient and almost pleasurable.
It is still a butt ugly airport, though. And the security people still chat all the time. And there was no coffee shop in my gate area. And no Times newspaper in W.H.Smith's. You get the point; I am not a fan.
Still, every cloud has its silver lining. When I got home and inspected my mole traps, I found two dead moles, one in each trap. Puffed up with martial pride, I then went off to play bridge, and promptly bid and made 6 hearts doubled with only 9 high card points in my hand. Now that doesn't happen very often.
Walter Blotscher
Monday, 20 September 2010
THE POPE'S VISIT
Here in England, I got caught up in the tail-end of the Pope's visit to the U.K., which finished last night. First, because a large part of Central London got cordoned off on Saturday, when I arrived, because of the open-air event in Hyde Park. Secondly, because he stayed at the Papal Nuncio's residence in Wimbledon, close to where I was staying. My friends have young children, who got very excited yesterday morning when the Pope flew off to Birmingham in a helicopter, which had landed for him in Wimbledon Park. The whole park was cordoned off by police, while around half a dozen helicopters put up a tremendous din before flying away with the Pope inside.
Judging from the visit, Britain's relationship with the head of the catholic church seems to have mellowed. Following the Reformation, catholics were at first persecuted, and then merely positively discriminated against. Modern attempts at reconciliation between Anglicanism and Catholicism then foundered on social matters such as contraception, the role of women in the church, and (most recently) sexual abuse by priests. In contrast to his Polish predecessor, who last visited in 1982, Pope Benedict was portrayed as a cold, hardline German out of touch with the modern world. Despite the fact that this was a State Visit (as opposed to the 1982 visit, which the Pope made in order to talk to his own flock), the omens were not good.
Yet it all seems to have gone rather well. Benedict made strong statements condemning sexual abuse by priests, and met some of the victims. He reminded anglicans of their shared, common Christian heritage. He stood up for proponents of faith - all faiths, catholic, anglican and muslim - against those striving for a secular, materialist world. His softly accented English charmed listeners. All in all, he came across as a benevolent grandfather rather than a teutonic bogeyman.
Nothing represented the change more than the service in Birmingham, which was held to beatify Cardinal Newman, the 19th century Oxford anglican theologian, who converted to catholicism and was made a cardinal. If this had happened in the 19th century, then it would have aroused widespread hostility, perhaps worse; today it all seems perfectly natural. In that sense, Britain has indeed moved on.
Walter Blotscher
Here in England, I got caught up in the tail-end of the Pope's visit to the U.K., which finished last night. First, because a large part of Central London got cordoned off on Saturday, when I arrived, because of the open-air event in Hyde Park. Secondly, because he stayed at the Papal Nuncio's residence in Wimbledon, close to where I was staying. My friends have young children, who got very excited yesterday morning when the Pope flew off to Birmingham in a helicopter, which had landed for him in Wimbledon Park. The whole park was cordoned off by police, while around half a dozen helicopters put up a tremendous din before flying away with the Pope inside.
Judging from the visit, Britain's relationship with the head of the catholic church seems to have mellowed. Following the Reformation, catholics were at first persecuted, and then merely positively discriminated against. Modern attempts at reconciliation between Anglicanism and Catholicism then foundered on social matters such as contraception, the role of women in the church, and (most recently) sexual abuse by priests. In contrast to his Polish predecessor, who last visited in 1982, Pope Benedict was portrayed as a cold, hardline German out of touch with the modern world. Despite the fact that this was a State Visit (as opposed to the 1982 visit, which the Pope made in order to talk to his own flock), the omens were not good.
Yet it all seems to have gone rather well. Benedict made strong statements condemning sexual abuse by priests, and met some of the victims. He reminded anglicans of their shared, common Christian heritage. He stood up for proponents of faith - all faiths, catholic, anglican and muslim - against those striving for a secular, materialist world. His softly accented English charmed listeners. All in all, he came across as a benevolent grandfather rather than a teutonic bogeyman.
Nothing represented the change more than the service in Birmingham, which was held to beatify Cardinal Newman, the 19th century Oxford anglican theologian, who converted to catholicism and was made a cardinal. If this had happened in the 19th century, then it would have aroused widespread hostility, perhaps worse; today it all seems perfectly natural. In that sense, Britain has indeed moved on.
Walter Blotscher
Saturday, 18 September 2010
STANSTED AIRPORT
I am off to visit my mum in England today. Since I won't have my computer with me, that may mean no blogging for the next 10 days; though I will try to get online from someone else's.
The best way for me to get to the U.K. is from Billund to Stansted with Ryanair. Ryanair are great; not luxurious, but you gets what you pays for. And they have certainly opened up Scandinavia to air traffic. When I first met my wife in 1985, I remember flying from Southend to Billund in a tiny little plane, and the ticket costing about £500 return. My ticket today, in a much bigger plane, cost precisely Dk471 return, about £55. As a consumer, I can't complain about that trend.
Stansted Airport, on the other hand, is something else. I hate it. Despite its being designed by Norman Foster, the terminal building is ugly. The rail links, when compared with (say) Frankfurt or Amsterdam, are next to useless, the Stansted Express is dirty and expensive (it costs almost as much to go from Stansted to Central London as from Stansted to Denmark). I try to imagine the impressions of a foreigner coming to the U.K. for the first time, and think they would not be good; unlike in other countries in the Schengen arrangement, there are lots of posters about the draconian things that will happen to you if you don't have the right documents. Hardly a welcome mat.
The worst thing for me is when you fly out from the airport. Endless queues for both check-in and security. And have you noticed how the security personnel chat to each other constantly while they are impounding your toothpaste, or making you take your shoes and belt off, or the other ridiculous things they do? How can you catch a terrorist if you're reminiscing with your workmates about your booze-up in Bishop's Stortford the night before?
Still, things could be worse. At least I don't have to fly into Heathrow. A cardinal in the Pope's entourage likened it this week to arriving in a third world country. He spoke the truth. But since the Pope was about to embark on a state visit, the cardinal judiciously decided to stay away. Truth hurts.
Walter Blotscher
I am off to visit my mum in England today. Since I won't have my computer with me, that may mean no blogging for the next 10 days; though I will try to get online from someone else's.
The best way for me to get to the U.K. is from Billund to Stansted with Ryanair. Ryanair are great; not luxurious, but you gets what you pays for. And they have certainly opened up Scandinavia to air traffic. When I first met my wife in 1985, I remember flying from Southend to Billund in a tiny little plane, and the ticket costing about £500 return. My ticket today, in a much bigger plane, cost precisely Dk471 return, about £55. As a consumer, I can't complain about that trend.
Stansted Airport, on the other hand, is something else. I hate it. Despite its being designed by Norman Foster, the terminal building is ugly. The rail links, when compared with (say) Frankfurt or Amsterdam, are next to useless, the Stansted Express is dirty and expensive (it costs almost as much to go from Stansted to Central London as from Stansted to Denmark). I try to imagine the impressions of a foreigner coming to the U.K. for the first time, and think they would not be good; unlike in other countries in the Schengen arrangement, there are lots of posters about the draconian things that will happen to you if you don't have the right documents. Hardly a welcome mat.
The worst thing for me is when you fly out from the airport. Endless queues for both check-in and security. And have you noticed how the security personnel chat to each other constantly while they are impounding your toothpaste, or making you take your shoes and belt off, or the other ridiculous things they do? How can you catch a terrorist if you're reminiscing with your workmates about your booze-up in Bishop's Stortford the night before?
Still, things could be worse. At least I don't have to fly into Heathrow. A cardinal in the Pope's entourage likened it this week to arriving in a third world country. He spoke the truth. But since the Pope was about to embark on a state visit, the cardinal judiciously decided to stay away. Truth hurts.
Walter Blotscher
Friday, 17 September 2010
THOSE MYTHICAL ADMINISTRATIVE SAVINGS .....
On 1 January 2007, the map of Denmark was redrawn. Before that date there had been 271 local authorities ("kommuner") and 14 regions ("amter"); after that date there were 98 kommuner and 5 regions. All of the bodies were, and still are, run by elected politicians.
In a country of only 5.5 million people, some of the former kommuner were quite small (in olden times, prior to the merger in 1970 of the 1,300 parishes into kommuner, they could be tiny). The former kommune where I live had about 5,000 people, 3,000 in the main town and the rest scattered in the countryside round about. The arrangement was very small-town and folksy. The kommune ran the one secondary school, the three junior village schools, and the old people's homes, and organised rubbish collection. The mayor doubled as a local estate agent, though he was paid a salary for his political work. Despite being a foreigner and recent immigrant, I personally knew three or four of the 13-man council, and a number of the officials. It was easy to get a tax rebate or a building permit sorted out. Yet unlike, say, in the U.K., the council also had the power to set income tax rates, and property taxes, so that the tax burden in Denmark can and does vary by a percentage point or two or three, depending on where you live. Somewhat paradoxically, this tended to dampen rows about taxation. "We are putting up taxes in order to renovate the school buildings" is easier to swallow if you can see that the buildings do indeed need renovating, and you can watch them being spruced up as you drive past. Overall, I thought that the system worked very well, at least away from the big cities. After all, it is not often that you can berate your local politician in the changing room after a game of badminton.
However, neighbourly service ran into the brick wall of the right-wing Government's desire to limit the size of the state, and stop any further rises in taxes. Small kommuner were "obviously" inefficient, and unsuited to the tasks of the modern world; attracting new businesses to the area, for instance. It was decided that the minimum size of a kommune should be 20,000 inhabitants, which was the previous average (7 of the 98 are in fact below that threshold, but they have special support arrangements with neighbouring kommuner). Bigger entities would in turn free up huge amounts of administrative savings, which could be used to improve the quality of local government services. And so our small kommune has merged with its five rural neighbours, into a body with about 40,000 inhabitants.
Almost three years on, what has been the effect? Service levels have definitely gone down. The various functions have been merged into one location, so the building permit office is now 20 miles away, as is the tax office. Potential new businesses are automatically shown to the areas next to the motorway at the northern edge; the kommune may now be better at competing with other kommuner, but there is a new tension within the kommune. The number of paid politicans has gone down; but each of them knows less about their electorates, and they have to drive around a much larger area in order to go to meetings. My former badminton partner rarely plays badminton these days.
Any what about those mythical administrative savings, the raison d'etre of the whole thing? It turns out that they were just that, a myth. Former tasks carried out by the regions (which now deal pretty much only with hospitals) were delegated down to the kommuner, which lacked the money and skills to carry them out; major road maintenance, for instance, or institutions for troubled children. IT-systems were sometimes incompatible. So not only have administration costs risen since 2006, but the number of administrative personnel, particularly heads of department, has actually increased. Both kommuner and amter are compensating by firing service personnel in order to remain within cash spending limits mandated by central government.
Virtually all European governments are facing pressures to cut the size of the state. I don't underestimate at all how difficult that will be. But when you hear a politician telling you that there are easy fixes to be had by "cutting waste", "administrative savings" and such like, remember to take the pitch with a huge pinch of salt. It will very rarely turn out to be true.
Walter Blotscher
On 1 January 2007, the map of Denmark was redrawn. Before that date there had been 271 local authorities ("kommuner") and 14 regions ("amter"); after that date there were 98 kommuner and 5 regions. All of the bodies were, and still are, run by elected politicians.
In a country of only 5.5 million people, some of the former kommuner were quite small (in olden times, prior to the merger in 1970 of the 1,300 parishes into kommuner, they could be tiny). The former kommune where I live had about 5,000 people, 3,000 in the main town and the rest scattered in the countryside round about. The arrangement was very small-town and folksy. The kommune ran the one secondary school, the three junior village schools, and the old people's homes, and organised rubbish collection. The mayor doubled as a local estate agent, though he was paid a salary for his political work. Despite being a foreigner and recent immigrant, I personally knew three or four of the 13-man council, and a number of the officials. It was easy to get a tax rebate or a building permit sorted out. Yet unlike, say, in the U.K., the council also had the power to set income tax rates, and property taxes, so that the tax burden in Denmark can and does vary by a percentage point or two or three, depending on where you live. Somewhat paradoxically, this tended to dampen rows about taxation. "We are putting up taxes in order to renovate the school buildings" is easier to swallow if you can see that the buildings do indeed need renovating, and you can watch them being spruced up as you drive past. Overall, I thought that the system worked very well, at least away from the big cities. After all, it is not often that you can berate your local politician in the changing room after a game of badminton.
However, neighbourly service ran into the brick wall of the right-wing Government's desire to limit the size of the state, and stop any further rises in taxes. Small kommuner were "obviously" inefficient, and unsuited to the tasks of the modern world; attracting new businesses to the area, for instance. It was decided that the minimum size of a kommune should be 20,000 inhabitants, which was the previous average (7 of the 98 are in fact below that threshold, but they have special support arrangements with neighbouring kommuner). Bigger entities would in turn free up huge amounts of administrative savings, which could be used to improve the quality of local government services. And so our small kommune has merged with its five rural neighbours, into a body with about 40,000 inhabitants.
Almost three years on, what has been the effect? Service levels have definitely gone down. The various functions have been merged into one location, so the building permit office is now 20 miles away, as is the tax office. Potential new businesses are automatically shown to the areas next to the motorway at the northern edge; the kommune may now be better at competing with other kommuner, but there is a new tension within the kommune. The number of paid politicans has gone down; but each of them knows less about their electorates, and they have to drive around a much larger area in order to go to meetings. My former badminton partner rarely plays badminton these days.
Any what about those mythical administrative savings, the raison d'etre of the whole thing? It turns out that they were just that, a myth. Former tasks carried out by the regions (which now deal pretty much only with hospitals) were delegated down to the kommuner, which lacked the money and skills to carry them out; major road maintenance, for instance, or institutions for troubled children. IT-systems were sometimes incompatible. So not only have administration costs risen since 2006, but the number of administrative personnel, particularly heads of department, has actually increased. Both kommuner and amter are compensating by firing service personnel in order to remain within cash spending limits mandated by central government.
Virtually all European governments are facing pressures to cut the size of the state. I don't underestimate at all how difficult that will be. But when you hear a politician telling you that there are easy fixes to be had by "cutting waste", "administrative savings" and such like, remember to take the pitch with a huge pinch of salt. It will very rarely turn out to be true.
Walter Blotscher
Thursday, 16 September 2010
ICHIRO OZAWA
The defeat of Ichiro Ozawa in the contest for the leadership of the ruling Democratic Party of Japan is good news for anybody concerned about the country's future. Since a victory for Mr. Ozawa would automatically have made him Prime Minister, much was at stake. Japan is not out of the woods yet, but at least one potential problem seems to have become smaller.
Mr. Ozawa is the great destructive force in Japanese politics. A consummate politician, who was first elected to the Diet before he was 30, he became secretary general of the permanently ruling Liberal Democratic Party in 1989 while still in his late 40's, ridiculously young by Japanese standards. His organisational skills and ability to forge compromises amongst the LDP's factions earned him respect and hatred in equal measure from his older colleagues. The latter won; and when Mr. Ozawa's patron was implicated in a corruption scandal in 1992, the knives came out. Mr. Ozawa saw the writing on the wall, and in 1993 stormed out of the LDP to form the Japan Renewal Party. For the next decade, the big question in Japanese politics was whether Mr. Ozawa and his supporters would return to the LDP in some way or try to wreck it from outside. There were many twists and turns in this story, but the endgame was reached in 2003 when he and his supporters joined the DJP. Mr. Ozawa eventually became its leader, and in 2007 led the party to victory in the upper house elections. This was followed by a thumping victory for the DJP in the elections for the much more important lower house of the Diet in August 2009. For the first time since the Second World War, the LDP seemed a spent force.
By then, Mr. Ozawa was no longer leader, but the party's secretary general. A scandal had forced him to resign, to be replaced by Yukio Hatayama, who became Prime Minister after the election. Mr. Ozawa was not in Government, but was widely perceived as the power behind the scenes. A further scandal brought down both men in June 2010, when Naoto Kan took over as party leader and Prime Minister. It was Mr. Kan, who narrowly won this week's vote, after Mr. Ozawa had challenged him to the leadership.
The election showed why people are either for or against Mr. Ozawa. Mr. Kan won, because he got the backing of local lawmakers and party members, who are sick of the continual changes in party and national leadership. Yet he won just a bare majority of the party's M.P.'s, as a large faction remains loyal to Mr. Ozawa. Will the latter now break away from the DPJ, and start the realignment process all over again? After all, one of the scandals during his time as DPJ leader was his attempt back in 2007 to forge a grand coalition with the LDP.
A new rupture might suit Mr. Ozawa's personal ambitions, but would not be good for Japan. The 17 years since Mr. Ozawa's original split from the LDP have coincided with the stagnation of the Japanese economy. It is clear that the LDP (widely held to be neither liberal, democratic nor a party) was not up to the job of sorting out the mess. With its resounding victory in 2009, it appeared that the electorate thought that the DPJ might do rather better. However, Mr. Ozawa's antics have shown that he is in many ways merely the LDP in different clothing. Stopping him becoming leader was the first step in the DJP's showing that things really are different, and that the old, unaccountable ways really are a thing of the past. As I say, Japan is not out of the woods yet by any means. But at least the DJP has given itself the chance to do something about the problems. If Mr. Ozawa could agree to harness his formidable talents to this endeavour, then the chance would be even bigger. Time will show if he can.
Walter Blotscher
The defeat of Ichiro Ozawa in the contest for the leadership of the ruling Democratic Party of Japan is good news for anybody concerned about the country's future. Since a victory for Mr. Ozawa would automatically have made him Prime Minister, much was at stake. Japan is not out of the woods yet, but at least one potential problem seems to have become smaller.
Mr. Ozawa is the great destructive force in Japanese politics. A consummate politician, who was first elected to the Diet before he was 30, he became secretary general of the permanently ruling Liberal Democratic Party in 1989 while still in his late 40's, ridiculously young by Japanese standards. His organisational skills and ability to forge compromises amongst the LDP's factions earned him respect and hatred in equal measure from his older colleagues. The latter won; and when Mr. Ozawa's patron was implicated in a corruption scandal in 1992, the knives came out. Mr. Ozawa saw the writing on the wall, and in 1993 stormed out of the LDP to form the Japan Renewal Party. For the next decade, the big question in Japanese politics was whether Mr. Ozawa and his supporters would return to the LDP in some way or try to wreck it from outside. There were many twists and turns in this story, but the endgame was reached in 2003 when he and his supporters joined the DJP. Mr. Ozawa eventually became its leader, and in 2007 led the party to victory in the upper house elections. This was followed by a thumping victory for the DJP in the elections for the much more important lower house of the Diet in August 2009. For the first time since the Second World War, the LDP seemed a spent force.
By then, Mr. Ozawa was no longer leader, but the party's secretary general. A scandal had forced him to resign, to be replaced by Yukio Hatayama, who became Prime Minister after the election. Mr. Ozawa was not in Government, but was widely perceived as the power behind the scenes. A further scandal brought down both men in June 2010, when Naoto Kan took over as party leader and Prime Minister. It was Mr. Kan, who narrowly won this week's vote, after Mr. Ozawa had challenged him to the leadership.
The election showed why people are either for or against Mr. Ozawa. Mr. Kan won, because he got the backing of local lawmakers and party members, who are sick of the continual changes in party and national leadership. Yet he won just a bare majority of the party's M.P.'s, as a large faction remains loyal to Mr. Ozawa. Will the latter now break away from the DPJ, and start the realignment process all over again? After all, one of the scandals during his time as DPJ leader was his attempt back in 2007 to forge a grand coalition with the LDP.
A new rupture might suit Mr. Ozawa's personal ambitions, but would not be good for Japan. The 17 years since Mr. Ozawa's original split from the LDP have coincided with the stagnation of the Japanese economy. It is clear that the LDP (widely held to be neither liberal, democratic nor a party) was not up to the job of sorting out the mess. With its resounding victory in 2009, it appeared that the electorate thought that the DPJ might do rather better. However, Mr. Ozawa's antics have shown that he is in many ways merely the LDP in different clothing. Stopping him becoming leader was the first step in the DJP's showing that things really are different, and that the old, unaccountable ways really are a thing of the past. As I say, Japan is not out of the woods yet by any means. But at least the DJP has given itself the chance to do something about the problems. If Mr. Ozawa could agree to harness his formidable talents to this endeavour, then the chance would be even bigger. Time will show if he can.
Walter Blotscher
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