Japan, trapped in the yoke of an ancient tradition that clashes with the demands of modernity, has just witnessed a political earthquake: Sanae Takaichithe first woman to hold the position of prime minister, burst onto the scene and was able to dynamite the succession crisis of the Imperial House. Elected on October 21 by the Liberal Democratic Party (PLD) after the abrupt resignation of Shigeru Ishiba, This 64-year-old conservative hawk – nicknamed the “Iron Lady” in homage to her idolized Margaret Thatcher – personifies the most uncompromising nationalism.
Revisionist of war history, fierce guardian of sovereignty in the face of Chinese expansionism and with an eccentric resume that includes drummers in heavy metal bands and a sharp pen in economic journalism. But his rise raises the question of whether he will trigger reform that opens theThe doors of the Chrysanthemum Throne to Princess Aikoonly daughter of Emperor Naruhito.
The Imperial Household Law of 1947, a corset imposed by the victors of the Second World War, dictates an implacable male primogeniture, condemning women to successional irrelevance. Thus, Aiko, 23 years old, is marginalized despite being the direct heir of Naruhito and Empress Masako. This princess, a paradigm of discretion and dedication, has conquered the Japanese: since she came of age in December 2021, she has shone in imperial rites, pilgrimages to shrines and an emotional journey through the devastated Ishikawa prefecture after the January earthquake.
Succession crisis in the imperial family
Trained at the elitist Gakushuin University, she collaborates with the Red Cross and advocates for cultural safeguarding. However, the legal patriarchy confines her to an ornamental role, while Prince Hisahito, 18 years old – son of Crown Prince Akishino – stands as the only male in the chain after his father and the emperor. Hisahito entered adulthood in September, the first since 1985, but the absence of more male heirs accelerates the decline: princesses shed their rank by marrying commoners, as happened to Mako Komuro in 2021 or to Sayako Kuroda in 2005.
This “succession crisis” is a tinderbox. Aiko’s birth in 2001 set off alarm bells. In 2006, Junichiro Koizumi swore reforms to enthrone empresses, but the birth of Hisahito buried them. Shinzō Abe scrapped them in 2007. With Naruhito’s ascension in 2019, the clamor resurfaced: in 2024, Fukushiro Nukaga, president of the Lower House, forged bipartisan alliances, and heavyweights such as Taro Aso (LDP) and Yoshihiko Noda (Constitutional Democratic Party) considered concessions, such as preserving titles for married princesses. Negotiations collapsed in June 2025, although Ishiba confessed in October 2024 that “stabilizing the number of imperial family members is particularly urgent.”
The people demand a break with a Jiji Press survey showing that 65% support reforms, and 90% bless an empresscatapulted by Aiko’s charisma. In an aging archipelago burdened by gender abysses – barely 10% of deputies are women – legitimizing female heirs would mean a leap towards equality, shielding a 1,500-year-old institution that unites the nation. Takaichi, despite his orthodoxy, could resurrect the debate: his victory pierces glass ceilings and, in the midst of an escalation with Beijing, strengthening the monarchy would be a strategic masterstroke.
Even so, the bastions resist: the purists fear contaminating the masculine “essence”, and the PLD, cracked, puts economy and defense first. If Takaichi makes his move, Aiko could embody the empress of the 21st century, uniting heritage and avant-garde. If we do not do so, the Imperial House moves inexorably towards the abyss of disappearance.