Coin Press - A new vision for Japan

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A new vision for Japan




Sanae Takaichi’s election as prime minister in October 2025 has ushered in a historic and transformative period for Japan. She is the country’s first woman to hold the post and, with a small Conservative bloc in parliament, she must rely on cooperation from opposition parties to deliver her ambitious agenda. A protégé of the late Shinzo Abe and a keen admirer of Margaret Thatcher, she promised during her leadership campaign to reassert Japan’s economic might, strengthen national security and regain the trust of conservative voters lost to right‑wing rivals.

Reviving the economy through fiscal firepower
Takaichi’s economic agenda centres on aggressive public spending coupled with targeted tax cuts. Within days of taking office she began drafting a fiscal package worth more than ¥13.9 trillion, surpassing the stimulus enacted in the previous year. The package aims to cushion households from inflation, expand investment in growth industries and support national security. Among the key measures under discussion are the abolition of a provisional gasoline tax that has been in place since 1974, lifting the income tax exemption threshold from ¥1.03 million to ¥1.6 million and combining income tax deductions with cash benefits to provide relief without increasing headline tax rates.

A Growth Strategy Council has been established to steer these efforts. The panel will map out a medium‑term plan by next summer, identifying sectors such as artificial intelligence, semiconductors, shipbuilding, defence and telecommunications as priorities. Takaichi has already signalled her intention to invest roughly ¥1.7 trillion in Rapidus, Japan’s fledgling chipmaker, with the goal of tripling its overseas revenue by 2033. She has charged her ministers with developing domestic supply chains for semiconductors and AI and with supporting small and medium‑sized businesses through tax reforms and productivity‑boosting incentives. Her emphasis on “responsible and proactive fiscal policy” seeks to ensure that economic growth outpaces debt accumulation, even if the programme is financed through deficit bonds.

In addition to the stimulus package, Takaichi has pledged to transform Japan into a global asset‑management hub and to create a national disaster‑prevention agency. She advocates establishing a “secondary capital” outside Tokyo to decentralise government functions, and she has called for social security reforms to balance benefits and costs in an ageing society. Recognising that recovery from the Fukushima nuclear disaster remains incomplete, she instructed the new economy minister to prioritise reconstruction alongside growth initiatives. Energy policy features prominently in her plan: she wants Japan to leverage renewable energy and nuclear power to secure a decarbonised yet stable electricity supply.

Accelerating military modernisation
National security is another pillar of Takaichi’s platform. Breaking with decades of precedent, she intends to raise defence spending to 2 per cent of gross domestic product by the end of March 2026 — two years ahead of the timetable set by her predecessor. This acceleration will require an extra trillion yen through a supplementary budget and marks Japan’s largest defence build‑up since the Second World War. Her government has already begun revising the National Security Strategy, National Defence Strategy and Defence Buildup Programme to reflect the changing security environment, citing Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, regional conflicts in the Middle East and heightened pressure from China and North Korea.

The new administration’s alliance with the Japan Innovation Party, which shares a hawkish stance on China, removes the moderating influence of the pacifist‑leaning Komeito and liberates her to pursue constitutional change. Takaichi is a long‑time advocate of revising Article 9 of the Constitution to acknowledge the Self‑Defence Forces and relax restrictions on arms exports. Her coalition partners have floated proposals for a nuclear‑sharing arrangement with the United States, a radical departure from Japan’s longstanding non‑nuclear principles. She hopes to deepen ties with Washington and has signalled she will quickly meet President Donald Trump to discuss ways to strengthen the bilateral alliance. In the face of calls from some U.S. officials to raise defence outlays to 3 or even 5 per cent of GDP, she is likely to present a package of purchases ranging from American vehicles and soybeans to natural gas and attract U.S. investment in Japanese industries. At the same time, she has pledged to maintain a constructive relationship with China and to work with South Korea, Australia and India to support a free and open Indo‑Pacific.

A tougher line on immigration and foreign ownership
Alongside her economic and security initiatives, Takaichi has placed immigration at the heart of her domestic agenda. Despite acknowledging the need for foreign labour to offset Japan’s demographic decline, she has vowed to “set limits” on the number of foreign workers admitted through programmes designed to address labour shortages. In an early ministerial meeting on foreign nationals she argued that public anxiety stems from rule‑breaking by a minority of foreigners and announced plans to deny visa renewals to those who fall behind on pension or health‑insurance contributions. She has also instructed ministers to examine tighter regulations on land purchases by foreign nationals, particularly Chinese investors, and to develop a population strategy by fiscal 2026 with numerical targets for foreign residents.

Takaichi’s cabinet includes a minister specifically responsible for economic security and harmonious coexistence with foreign nationals. This official, Kimi Onoda, has been tasked with coordinating immigration policy, enforcing compliance and examining regulations on property ownership. The prime minister insists that her approach is aimed at ensuring fairness rather than promoting xenophobia. Critics, however, argue that the rhetoric and policies reflect a broader nationalist turn within the ruling party. During the leadership race she built support by invoking isolated anecdotes to justify restrictions on foreigners, echoing the populist “Japanese First” platform championed by right‑wing groups. Opponents warn that such measures could undermine industries that rely on overseas labour and exacerbate social divisions.

Managing minority rule and foreign relations
The political context surrounding Takaichi’s premiership complicates the implementation of her agenda. Her coalition is two votes short of a majority in the lower house, compelling her to seek backing from centrist and opposition parties to pass budgets and constitutional amendments. While she enjoys strong approval ratings in the early days of her government, observers question whether she can sustain momentum when her spending plans face scrutiny over Japan’s already‑high public debt.

Diplomatically, Takaichi must balance her hawkish instincts with regional realities. She reaffirmed Japan’s commitment to supporting Ukraine, pledged to secure the return of citizens abducted by North Korea, and called China an important neighbour despite labelling its actions a security challenge. In a symbolic nod to regional sensitivities, she refrained from visiting the Yasukuni war shrine during the autumn festival, a move interpreted as an attempt to ease tensions with Beijing and Seoul. Nevertheless, her regular visits in the past and her hard‑line views on wartime history continue to evoke suspicion abroad.

Sanae Takaichi’s rise to Japan’s highest office brings a blend of economic populism, military assertiveness and cultural conservatism. Her vision seeks to rekindle growth through massive public investment while rewriting the rules that have governed Japan’s post‑war pacifism and demographic openness. Whether she succeeds in changing Japan forever will depend on her ability to steer her minority government through political turbulence, manage relations with powerful allies and competitors, and reconcile a rapidly ageing society with the demands of globalisation.



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Stargate project, Trump and the AI war...

In a dramatic return to the global political stage, former President Donald J. Trump, as the current 47th President of the United States of America, has unveiled his latest initiative, the so-called ‘Stargate Project,’ in a bid to cement the United States’ dominance in artificial intelligence and outpace China’s meteoric rise in the field. The newly announced programme, cloaked in patriotic rhetoric and ambitious targets, is already stirring intense debate over the future of technological competition between the world’s two largest economies.According to preliminary statements from Trump’s team, the Stargate Project will consolidate the efforts of leading American tech conglomerates, defence contractors, and research universities under a centralised framework. The former president, who has long championed American exceptionalism, claims this approach will provide the United States with a decisive advantage, enabling rapid breakthroughs in cutting-edge AI applications ranging from military strategy to commercial innovation.“America must remain the global leader in technology—no ifs, no buts,” Trump declared at a recent press conference. “China has been trying to surpass us in AI, but with this new project, we will make sure the future remains ours.”Details regarding funding and governance remain scarce, but early indications suggest the initiative will rely heavily on public-private partnerships, tax incentives for research and development, and collaboration with high-profile venture capital firms. Skeptics, however, warn that the endeavour could fan the flames of an increasingly militarised AI race, raising ethical concerns about surveillance, automation of warfare, and data privacy. Critics also question whether the initiative can deliver on its lofty promises, especially in the face of existing economic and geopolitical pressures.Yet for its supporters, the Stargate Project serves as a rallying cry for renewed American leadership and an antidote to worries over China’s technological ascendancy. Proponents argue that accelerating AI research is paramount if the United States wishes to preserve not just military supremacy, but also the economic and cultural influence that has typified its global role for decades.Whether this bold project will succeed—or if it will devolve into a symbolic gesture—remains to be seen. What is certain, however, is that the Stargate Project has already reignited debate about how best to safeguard America’s strategic future and maintain the balance of power in the fast-evolving arena of artificial intelligence.

Iran and the holy War risk

For now, Iran does not appear to be launching a formal holy war. But the question is no longer rhetorical. After the bombings that turned a long shadow conflict into an open regional war, religious language has moved from symbolic background noise toward the center of state messaging. The more important issue is not whether Tehran will suddenly summon the Muslim world into a single, borderless struggle. It is whether the Islamic Republic will fuse military retaliation, political succession, proxy activation and sacred rhetoric into a broader campaign that functions like a holy war without ever formally declaring one.The current crisis is already historic. Since the joint U.S.-Israeli attack of February 28, which killed Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei and struck Iranian state and military targets, the conflict has spread across Israel, Lebanon, the Gulf and the energy corridors that underpin the global economy. Public death tolls inside Iran alone have climbed into the four figures. Even though international nuclear inspectors said early in the campaign that they had no indication several key nuclear installations had been hit or that radiation had spread beyond normal levels, later stages of the war clearly broadened toward oil storage, airports, command sites and urban infrastructure. This is no longer a contained deterrence exchange. It is a live contest over regime survival, regional order and strategic endurance.That is precisely why the phrase “holy war” must be handled with care. In January, influential voices inside Iran had already warned that any attack on the Supreme Leader would amount to a declaration of war against the wider Islamic world and could require a jihad decree. That language mattered then, and it matters even more now because the red line was crossed. Tehran can plausibly argue to its own hard-line base that the highest religious and political authority in the Islamic Republic was not merely challenged but assassinated. In ideological terms, that transforms retaliation from a policy choice into a sacred obligation. In political terms, it gives hard-liners a ready-made framework for widening the war.Yet rhetoric is not the same as doctrine, and doctrine is not the same as operational behavior. Iran’s response so far looks less like an uncontrolled call to universal religious uprising than a grim, state-directed campaign of calibrated punishment. Tehran has struck back with missiles, drones, maritime pressure and pressure on regional hosts of U.S. military power. It has also tried to impose costs on the world economy by turning the Gulf and the Strait of Hormuz into instruments of leverage. This is not the behavior of a leadership abandoning strategy for blind zeal. It is the behavior of a regime trying to survive by making the war too costly, too wide and too economically dangerous for its enemies to sustain indefinitely.That distinction matters. A genuine, formal holy war would imply a sweeping call for open-ended religious mobilization across borders, one that subordinates ordinary state interests to an all-consuming theological struggle. Iran has not done that in any clear, universal sense. It has instead behaved as a revolutionary state that uses sacred language to reinforce legitimacy, discipline supporters and justify retaliation. That model predates the current crisis. The Islamic Republic has always blended theology, nationalism, martyrdom culture, anti-Western resistance and hard security logic. The bombings have intensified that blend, but they have not erased the regime’s instinct for calculation.The strongest evidence against an immediate full holy-war scenario is inside Iran itself. The system’s first imperative has not been global mobilization; it has been continuity. Even after decapitation strikes, the state moved to preserve command structures, delegate powers downward and push the Assembly of Experts toward selecting a successor. By March 8, that succession process had reportedly advanced to the point where a decision had been reached, even if the name had not yet been publicly revealed. That is a survival reflex. Regimes preparing for limitless religious war do not usually prioritize constitutional succession, elite cohesion and internal control. Regimes fighting for their lives do.Iran’s regional behavior also shows tension between ideological fury and strategic restraint. President Masoud Pezeshkian’s apology to Gulf neighbors was extraordinary, not because it ended the war, but because it exposed the conflict inside Tehran’s own response. On one side sits the logic of escalation: punish every state that hosts U.S. forces, widen the crisis, raise oil prices, frighten shipping markets and prove that the bombardment of Iran cannot remain geographically contained. On the other side sits the logic of isolation avoidance: do not drive every Arab state irreversibly into the opposing camp, do not convert every neighbor into an active launchpad for anti-Iran operations, and do not make regime survival impossible by fighting the entire region at once.This internal contradiction is one reason the phrase “holy war” can mislead. What is unfolding is more dangerous in practical terms and more limited in formal terms. Iran may never issue a clean, universal call for a civilizational war against all enemies of Islam, yet it can still encourage clerical sanction, mobilize militias, inspire cross-border attacks, bless cyber retaliation, empower covert cells and unleash proxy violence under a sacred frame. That would be a hybrid escalation: not a single global summons, but a diffuse religious legitimization of a long, dirty regional war. For civilians, ports, airports, desalination plants, shipping lanes and energy markets, the difference may feel almost academic.The role of Iran’s allied armed networks reinforces that point. Hezbollah has entered the conflict, but not from a position of unchallenged strength. Its intervention has deepened political strain in Lebanon and highlighted how even Iran’s most loyal partners are balancing solidarity against self-preservation. Other aligned groups face similar pressures. The so-called axis can still hurt Israel, U.S. assets and regional infrastructure, but it is not a frictionless machine awaiting one theological command to move in perfect unity. The more Tehran leans on proxies, the more it reveals that its preferred method remains layered coercion, not a single dramatic declaration of holy war.There is also a sectarian and geopolitical reality that limits the holy-war model. The Muslim world is not a single mobilizable bloc waiting for instructions from Tehran. Iran is a Shiite theocratic state with revolutionary ambitions, but its appeal across Sunni-majority states is uneven at best and sharply contested at worst. Gulf monarchies, already targeted by Iranian missiles and drones, are not natural participants in an Iranian-led sacred struggle. Many of them fear Tehran at least as much as they oppose the bombing campaign against it. That means Iran’s religious messaging may galvanize sympathizers, militants and ideological fellow travelers, but it is unlikely to unify the wider Islamic world behind one war banner.Still, dismissing the danger would be a grave mistake. The holy-war language matters because words can widen the menu of violence. Once a conflict is framed as sacred defense rather than national retaliation alone, thresholds can drop. Assassinations, sabotage, maritime attacks, strikes on civilian-linked infrastructure and violence by semi-deniable actors all become easier to justify. A state under bombardment, mourning its supreme leader and fighting for institutional survival may decide that conventional retaliation is not enough. If Tehran concludes that it cannot win symmetrically, it may authorize a looser, more ideological pattern of warfare stretching from the Gulf to the Mediterranean and beyond.The economic front is equally important. Iran understands that energy fear can be weaponized. Even limited disruption in the Strait of Hormuz sends shockwaves through insurance, shipping, aviation and inflation expectations worldwide. That leverage is politically valuable because it turns a military confrontation into a global pressure campaign. A formal holy war would demand maximal ideological mobilization. A survival war, by contrast, rewards selective disruption, ambiguity and controlled chaos. Tehran’s actions so far fit the second model more closely than the first.This is why the most serious answer to the headline question is not a simple yes or no. Iran is unlikely to launch a classic holy war in the simplistic sense of a formal, total religious call to arms that instantly unites the Muslim world under its banner. But it is already moving toward something more contemporary and, in some ways, more destabilizing: a war of survival wrapped in sacred legitimacy, regional coercion and asymmetric retaliation. The bombings have not merely invited revenge. They have strengthened the argument of those in Tehran who believe compromise invites death and that only resistance sanctified by faith can preserve the system.So the real risk is not that Iran suddenly abandons strategy for theology. The real risk is that strategy and theology fuse more tightly than before. If that fusion hardens, the war will not remain a sequence of missile exchanges and air raids. It will become a broader contest over succession, legitimacy, energy, maritime freedom, proxy warfare and the right to define resistance as a religious duty. In that environment, the phrase “holy war” may remain officially ambiguous, but its practical effects could become visible across the entire region.