TOKYO -- For those who view Japan's swelling nationalism through suspicious eyes, there is plenty of evidence that the country is straining at its pacifist shackles.
New Prime Minister Shinzo Abe has vowed to rewrite Japan's war-renouncing constitution. He yearns for a robust role in world affairs and has even mused about the possibility of a pre-emptive military strike against North Korean missile sites.
Abe's talk of a "new Japan" also includes a plan to inculcate patriotism in schools and put an end to teaching what he calls a "masochistic" version of Japanese history. His newly minted Cabinet tilts so far to the hawkish side of Japanese politics that Mizuho Fukushima, the opposition socialist leader, has christened it "a Cabinet to prepare for war."
So as Abe took power this week, wary observers warned of a virulent form of nationalism they say is moving into the Japanese mainstream for the first time since Japan's defeat in World War II. Those voices came from American and European analysts, not just from China and Korea, where memories of Japan's imperial aggression still burn. When Abe suggested in the summer that it might be necessary to take out North Korea's missile bases in self-defense, a South Korean government spokesman said the declaration "unveiled Japan's expansionist nature."
Is Japan sliding back to the dark days of the militarist 1930s? Are the Japanese really prepared to surrender their breathtaking materialism for the sort of foreign adventures that brought ruin upon their grandparents' generation?
Absurd, the Abe crowd responds.
"No single Japanese person thinks we are going back to that period," says Yoshihide Suga, one of the governing Liberal Democratic Party's most conservative members and an early Abe ally on the need to take a hard line with North Korea. "Other countries accuse us of going in a militarist direction but we are just trying to become a normal country."
Those who refute parallels with the 1930s point out that military spending then was the government's largest single budget item; now it is less than 1 percent of Japan's gross domestic product. And unlike the 1930s, Japan no longer has a command economy tailored to the needs of the armed forces, and civilian leaders do not bend to the will of the army and navy.
Yet Abe's supporters do want to roll history's clock back if only as far as 1945. Their quarrel is with the political culture that was encrypted into Japan after the war. Their targets are the American-imposed constitution and an accompanying education system they accuse of weakening traditional Japanese values and leading to a morally flabby nation.
"When we mention conservative politics, it is not the same as prewar politics or militarism," said Hakubun Shimomura, deputy Cabinet secretary of Abe's new government. "It is not an arrogant nationalism. We are not hostile to other cultures. But we want Japanese people to respect traditional Japanese culture, a culture that goes back more than 2,000 years but which has been weakened in the last 60 years."
It is a recurring theme with this new generation of nationalists. Yes, we got rich under the postwar American umbrella, they say. But the excesses of foreign values also infused an individualistic streak that diluted the social harmony at the core of Japanese society.
"Abe's stance is that postwar Japan is bad," says Takashi Tachibana, a commentator and author who has written about Japan's prewar intellectual class and is a critic of the new prime minister. Tachibana says Abe sees the constitution and the 1947 Basic Education Law as the underpinnings of a stunted postwar era, "the root of all evils that need to be fixed."
It is not a minority view. Polls show nearly two-thirds of Japanese support a new education law that would require schools to teach patriotism.
Gearing up for a battle to rewrite the education law, Abe has stocked his Cabinet and closest advisers with socially conservative politicians associated with the clamor to restore family values.
Bruce Wallace writes for the Los Angeles Times.