48 Asia The EconomistNovember 16th 2019
2 tionalists since the 1980s, and a fixture of
thebjp’s election manifestos since 1996.
Having won a second five-year term in May
by a landslide, Mr Modi has fulfilled a
string of promises to his Hindu nationalist
base, including splitting Jammu & Kash-
mir, India’s only Muslim-majority state,
into two parts, and stripping it both of its
special status under the constitution and
of statehood.
Will this triumphant end to thebjp’s
long crusade now allow the prime minister
to focus on more pressing issues, such as a
faltering economy? And will it cool the fer-
vour of Hindu extremists enough to soothe
communal relations, which have grown in-
creasingly strained under Mr Modi? Some
Hindu hardliners are already pushing for
more, claiming that other mosques, and
even perhaps the Taj Mahal, the famous
tomb of a Muslim emperor and his wife, are
built atop ancient temples. Happily, the
likelihood of mobilising a large chunk of
Hindu opinion in support of a fresh agita-
tion is probably limited. The campaign to
demolish and replace the Babri Masjid be-
gan 70 years ago with the surreptitious
planting of a Hindu idol in 1949. The ensu-
ing lifetime of strife is not a price that many
Indians will be willing to pay again. 7
T
he electionin July for the upper house
of Japan’s parliament was “remarkably
unfair”, Kazuhiko Tomita, a judge on the
northerly island of Hokkaido, ruled in Oc-
tober. Worse, it was held in a “state of un-
constitutionality”. He was referring to Ja-
pan’s severe malapportionment—the
division of the country into legislative dis-
tricts with widely differing populations.
In Miyagi there are almost 976,000 reg-
istered voters for every member the prefec-
ture sends to the upper house of the Diet, or
parliament. In Fukui prefecture, the equiv-
alent figure is below 326,000. That means,
in effect, that voters in Fukui get three
times more representation in the upper
house than their counterparts in Miyagi.
The discrepancies in the lower house are
not quite as bad. The most populous dis-
trict, in Tokyo, has only twice the voters of
the least populous, in Tottori, a largely ru-
ral prefecture on the west coast.
Japan’s constitution is a little woolly on
how districts are to be drawn up. It gives the
authority to do so to the Diet itself, but
states, “All of the people are equal under the
law” and “There shall be no discrimination
because of race, creed, sex, social status,
family origin, education, property or in-
come.” Campaigning lawyers have repeat-
edly used these clauses to challenge mal-
apportionment in the courts. Hidetoshi
Masunaga leads the group that brought the
case decided last month in Hokkaido. As he
observes, “One man, 0.5 votes” is not exact-
ly democratic.
The courts have repeatedly ruled
against malapportionment, although they
typically decline to throw out the results of
elections held with skewed maps. Instead,
judges have established a principle that the
biggest constituency in the lower house
should have no more than double the vot-
ers of the smallest. The maximum discrep-
ancy in the upper house is 3:1.
The Diet has repeatedly adjusted dis-
trict boundaries in an attempt to conform
to this rule. But lawmakers have been re-
luctant to abandon the idea that there
should be at least one member in both
houses from each of Japan’s 47 prefectures.
Apportionment is a problem in many
democracies. America’s constitution allots
two senators to each state, regardless of
population, meaning that Wyoming has a
senator for every 290,000 residents, versus
one for every 20m Californians. In Malay-
sia, the biggest district in parliamentary
elections last year had eight times the pop-
ulation of the smallest. Moreover, the dif-
ference in Japan has narrowed markedly
since the courts began to weigh in. The ra-
tio between upper-house districts used to
be as much as 6:1, says Taku Sugawara of the
University of Tokyo.
But in Japan malapportionment is par-
ticularly persistent and severe because of
the country’s unusual demography. Big cit-
ies such as Tokyo continue to grow, even as
the population as a whole shrinks. Some
rural prefectures are losing people at an in-
creasing rate.
The disparities in population will again
exceed the limits set by the courts by the
time the next election comes around, says
Kenneth McElwain of the University of To-
kyo. Hokkaido’s population is projected to
shrink by a third in the next two decades.
Three-quarters of its municipalities could
disappear in the coming years, according
to the Japan Policy Council, a think-tank. It
is huge, accounting for 20% of Japan’s terri-
tory, but only 4% of its population. Its mps
will end up representing ever larger dis-
tricts. That will mean less contact with vot-
ers, who will already be feeling left behind
by demographic change.
Moreover, the rapid shrinking of the ru-
ral population means that each new elec-
toral map quickly becomes biased in favour
of relatively elderly and conservative dis-
tricts in the countryside, at the expense of
big cities. That benefits the ruling Liberal
Democratic Party, which is stronger in rural
areas than urban ones. It dominates the
Diet, and its mps have naturally been reluc-
tant to embrace wholesale electoral re-
form. That, says Mr Masunaga, is why he
and his colleagues have turned instead to
the courts. The next step, says Noriyuki
Okuyama, a lawyer involved in the Hokkai-
do suit, is to take their case to the Supreme
Court. “One person, one vote is a prerequi-
site for democracy,” he insists. 7
TOKYO
Demography helps keep the legislative map favourable to the ruling party
Electoral districts in Japan
Self-reinforcing bias
The grass is greener for rural voters