Global South Politics: What Africa can Learn from Japan’s peaceful democracy

This opinion article represents the views of its author, not those of Global South World. 

Modernisation is a mission for almost every African nation. It’s a process which has many facets and no single route. Simply transplanting a template from one country to another is crude and ineffectual, but there are lessons to be learned from the examples of others.

Specifically Japan, which transformed its economy, and with it the living standards of its people over a relatively short period, has done so without sacrificing its culture and identity. One outcome of the changes has been a political system that is robust and effective. How did that happen?

A combination of humility, respect and pragmatism have given Japan its distinctive form of democracy, one that borrows from but does not seek to replicate Western models.

Reciprocal transitions

Japanese political scientists have called the 1990s their country’s “years of trial.” Within that single decade, Japan cycled through nine prime ministers. By any measure, this was extraordinary political turnover. But what is equally striking is what did not happen: no coups, no assassinations, no bloody purges. Leadership changed hands again and again, yet the system held firm.

Contrast this with Africa, where the exit of a leader has too often meant violence, instability, or even civil war. The continent’s post-independence history is littered with coups d’état and failed transfers of power. Why has political change in Japan been peaceful while in Africa it has so often been brutal?

The answer lies partly in culture, but more specifically in the way political systems in the two regions structure incentives. Four overlapping features—how politics is understood, the practice of political recycling, the treatment of winners and losers, and the supremacy of civilian over military rule—help explain the divergence.

Politics as a multi-sum game

In Japan, politics is rarely understood as a zero-sum contest. Compromise is valued, and effectiveness is judged by a leader’s ability to accommodate competing interests. A politician who loses today may return tomorrow; a fall from office is not career-ending.

In much of Africa, by contrast, political competition has often been closer to a matter of life and death. To lose power can mean not just a dead end job-wise but entails a loss of  wealth, liberty, or life itself. The unwritten rules have sometimes been stark: win and eliminate your opponents, or lose and risk elimination yourself. Political office is tied to material rewards, making control of the state the single most important prize.

Where politics is conceived as a multiple-sum game - as in Japan - compromise is rational. Where it is zero-sum, as in Africa, compromise is dangerous.

One of Japan’s most distinctive practices is what might be called political recycling. Former leaders do not vanish into obscurity but are reintegrated into government, often in roles less senior than the ones they held previously. Keiichi Miyazawa, for example, served as Finance Minister two years after stepping down as prime minister. Taro Aso, after his short-lived premiership in 2008–09, returned as deputy prime minister and finance minister under Shinzo Abe. There are many such examples.

This practice ensures continuity. It gives defeated politicians a stake in the system, reinforcing the idea that today’s loser may be tomorrow’s ally. Political actors cooperate because they know they will almost certainly cross paths again.

In Africa, such recycling is rare. Once power is lost, it is usually lost forever. Examples of returning leaders taking on less senior positions are virtually non-existent (if you know of any please let me know in the comments!) The incentive is not to step aside gracefully but to cling to office at any cost. Leaders who see no political influence without all political influence are more likely to suppress opponents and seek to extend their rule indefinitely.

Victory without vanquished

Japan’s culture of political compromise extends to its style of conflict resolution. The story of Takamori Saigō, the rebel who rose against the Meiji state in 1877, illustrates this. Though defeated, he was later remembered as a “misguided patriot,” and his statue still stands in Tokyo’s Ueno Park. The message is clear: reconciliation is possible, even with those who once threatened the state.

Japanese political culture emphasizes harmony over absolute justice. The aim is not to destroy an opponent but to reintegrate them. Victory is meaningful, in fact more meaningful, without the total humiliation of the loser.

In Africa, however, political conflict has more often been winner-takes-all. Victors cannot feel secure unless their opponents are thoroughly crushed.

Educated civilian leaders

A final contrast lies in the backgrounds of political elites. Post-war Japan’s prime ministers have overwhelmingly come from civilian life, many trained in economics or law, and nearly all educated at elite universities. They are technocrats more than warriors.

In Africa, many leaders emerged from liberation struggles or the military. Their formative experiences conditioned them to see politics as a battlefield, where survival depends on vanquishing rivals. Civilian supremacy has been harder to establish. The shadow of the military remains heavy over politics in many countries, and the instinct to rule as if at war undermines democratic transitions.

Shared traditions, different outcomes

Yet despite these contrasts, Africa and Japan may be closer than they seem. Scholars of Afro-Japanese studies including myself have long argued that Japan’s path to industrialization holds lessons for the developing world precisely because it was a non-Western society that achieved modernity on its own terms.

Ali Mazrui, the great African intellectual, pointed out that both regions share traditions of elders and sages—respect for age, experience, and wisdom as foundations of authority. In Japan, these traditions were harnessed to stabilize the political system. Seniority helped structure succession, while the sage tradition emphasized the role of wise, educated leaders. Political recycling, again, was made possible by these traditions, ensuring continuity and legitimacy.

Africa, too, possesses these traditions, but they have not been translated into stable political institutions. Instead, age and authority are often wielded to entrench incumbents rather than enable continuity and renewal.

Lessons for Africa

What, then, might African societies learn from Japan’s experience? The answer is not simple imitation—cultures and histories differ too much for that. But some principles are transferable.

• Build systems that make losing safe. If today’s loser knows they may return, they will have less incentive to destabilise the system.
• Institutionalize political recycling. Former leaders should not be ostracised but reintegrated; their experience should be utilized.
• Shift from zero-sum to multiple-sum politics. This requires both cultural change and institutional design that rewards compromise and consensus.
• Strengthen civilian supremacy. A technocratic political class, grounded in expertise rather than military experience, is better equipped to manage peaceful transitions.

None of this is easy. Japan’s path was shaped by unique circumstances: U.S. occupation after World War II, a relatively homogeneous society, and strong economic growth in the postwar decades. Africa’s challenges are different—ethnic diversity, colonial borders, and weaker state structures among them.

But the comparison does serve as a reminder: peaceful political change is not the preserve of Western democracies. It can be achieved in societies with their own traditions, as Japan demonstrates. The challenge for Africa is not to copy Japan but to find ways of embedding its own elder and sage traditions into institutions that make politics something other than a fight to the death.

• The author is a visiting professor at the Institute of Advanced Research and Education at Doshisha University, Kyoto, Japan.