Japanese Parliament tries out 'question time' free-for-all

By Joseph Coleman

TOKYO (AP): It was unprecedented in a century of Japanese parliamentary politics: the prime minister had to answer a direct question from the opposition -- without the help of bureaucrats.

Opening the session, lawmaker Yukio Hatoyama asked not about the economy or foreign policy, but "What did you have for breakfast?"

Thus began Japan's experiment with British-style "question time," aimed at loosening bureaucrats' grip on power and -- hopefully -- unleashing freewheeling debates that will transform lawmakers into polished orators and policy experts.

In Britain, question time usually means a take-no-prisoners policy session, during which sparks fly so high they have become a C-SPAN cable TV favorite in the United States.

In Japan, the reality has been a bit different.

Hatoyama, the leader of the Democratic Party, opened the first session on Nov. 10 in Japanese style -- with an inside joke and a metaphor.

Poking fun at a political analyst's comparison last year of Prime Minister Keizo Obuchi's public appeal to "cold pizza," Hatoyama asked the premier what he had for breakfast -- warm or cold pizza.

He then described Obuchi's new and powerful three-party governing coalition as a pizza that "has become too large, with too many toppings."

The session, limited to 40 minutes, later strayed into more substantial issues like the country's ambitious nuclear power policy. But the overall impression was that of an empty, amateurish debate.

"I couldn't tell if Obuchi was even listening to the questions or if he knew what he was talking about," said Kimiko Makabe, 39, a part-time office worker in Tokyo. "He doesn't seem to have any opinions -- but I wonder if any of the other politicians have opinions either."

Successful or not, question time proponents say the sessions, to be held regularly next year, could eventually wear down Japanese political traditions blamed for inhibiting the country's democracy.

One challenge will be to prod a fractured political opposition -- more accustomed to boycotting sessions and blocking votes than crafting viable policy alternatives -- into a more active role.

The other major goal is wresting power from unelected civil servants, who typically write legislation -- with little involvement of politicians -- and even tell lawmakers what to say in floor debates.

"Parliament discussions are mostly prepared by bureaucrats, so the ability level of members is low," said Masayuki Fukuoka, a political scientist at Tokyo's Hakuo University.

Bureaucratic control has long been a fact in Japan, but with the economy on the skids through the 1990s and a series of painful scandals, there is a move to put more power in the hands of officials more subject to public scrutiny.

Question time joins a series of moves by legislators in Japan to take center stage, including taking a greater role in writing legislation.

In the regular session that ended in August, 94 lawmaker- written bills were introduced in the lower house, compared to 59 in the last session. Still, only 18 legislator-written bills became law -- a tiny number compared to the 130 bureaucrat- written measures that were passed.

While it's too soon to say whether the question time experiment will work, many in Japan agree on one point: lawmakers need more than 40 minutes to have a meaningful debate.

And while some agree the concept is worthwhile, the results will depend on what lawmakers put into it -- and if anyone pays attention.

"I think it's a good idea, but the content wasn't very interesting," said Masahiko Kuroda, president of a travel agency in Tokyo. "They have no choice but to become better politicians if they're exposed on TV."