Sanae Takaichi’s landslide victory in the lower-house election has rapidly refocused Japan’s postwar security debate. With the Liberal Democratic Party winning 316 seats and, together with coalition partner Nippon Ishin, commanding 352 seats in the Diet, Takaichi moved almost immediately to promise an end to restrictions on lethal weapons exports — a shift she frames as transforming Japan from a strictly defensive state into a “defence industrial” actor on the global stage.
The proposed change is not an isolated policy tweak but the logical extension of a decade-long loosening of controls that began under Shinzo Abe. In 2014 the government adopted the “three principles on transfer of defence equipment and technology,” opening a narrow, regulated path for defence exports. Takaichi’s agenda aims to go further: lifting bans on lethal sales, pressing for legal and symbolic reforms such as rebranding the Self-Defense Forces, and questioning the postwar non-nuclear commitments that have long underpinned Japan’s international posture.
Domestically, the scale of Takaichi’s parliamentary majority removes many of the procedural obstacles that previously constrained more assertive defence policies. The election result represents more than a partisan triumph; it is the crystallisation of years of conservative and nationalist political capital, amplified by a defence industrial lobby eager for market expansion. For Takaichi and her supporters, weapons exports are both a strategic instrument and an economic opportunity to sustain high-tech manufacturing and military supply chains.
Regionally the announcement immediately sharpened geopolitical anxieties. Beijing has issued stern warnings that any revival of “militarism” will meet opposition, while publics across Southeast Asia express heightened concern about a remilitarised Japan operating in sensitive theatres such as the South China Sea and the Taiwan Strait. Washington’s desire for a stronger regional balancer against China gives Tokyo political cover; the U.S.-Japan alliance is likely to accommodate — and in some areas encourage — a more capable Japanese security posture even as it seeks to avoid escalation.
The policy shift has several practical implications. Enabling lethal arms exports would integrate Japan more deeply into international defence supply chains, alter procurement choices among regional states, and raise the stakes in crises involving Taiwan or disputed maritime zones. Yet legal and diplomatic constraints remain: Article 9 of Japan’s constitution, domestic public opinion, and the reputational costs of being perceived as departing from postwar pacifism could still shape the pace and scope of any rearmament and export policy.
Takaichi’s thrust will therefore test the balance between deterrence and provocation. For Tokyo, the immediate political windfall is clear — control of the Diet allows expedited legal change and policy realignment — but the long-term equilibrium in East Asia hinges on how neighbouring states, Washington, and domestic constituencies respond. The risk is that moves intended to enhance national security could trigger competitive rearmament and diplomatic ruptures, while restrained, transparent policies might yield tactical gains without wider destabilisation.