A lot of people seem to assume that you are a lawyer. Why?

I don't know why. I've been on consultation shows on TV where I discuss legal aspects of various subjects, so maybe that's it. I know a lot about the law. But my background is journalism; that's how I've always made my living.

Was anyone else in your family a journalist?

Not as far as I know.

Were your parents politically active?

No, not at all.

How was the decision made for you to attend Tokyo's Tsuda College?

My parents, who came from a fairly elite liberal background, had studied English with a graduate of Tsuda. The school was well known for educating well-brought-up young women. As far back as I can remember they were telling me that I was headed for Tsuda, so I always had a good image of the place.

Did you have an idea then of what you wanted to be?

In my first year I had a psychology teacher who was spending a lot of time working with leprosy. Lepers were really discriminated against back then; people were afraid to get near them. I was very impressed, but you have to get into medical school at Todai to get into research like that, and I was lazy. But I learned a lot about the problems of human relationships and becoming involved. I also wanted to be independent from my parents. I began thinking of journalism as a possible way to bring social issues out into the open.

What was your first job?

I had a part-time job with Kodansha while I was still a senior. Then I joined the Japan Times group and worked on the Student Times.

What was that like?

Very interesting. I'd offer 10 ideas at the editorial meetings and almost all of them would be accepted. I worked very, very hard, but I would also take days off to ski. I thought I was doing great, working so hard without any overtime pay. But when bonus day came around, I got almost nothing. The editor said it was because I took too many days off. I thought it was very unfair considering the amount of work that I was doing. I quit after three years. I wanted to write about things that I was interested in.

You had married by that time, right?

When I was 25 I married one of my colleagues at The Japan Times. But that's not why I left the company. After three years of working there, I just decided that I wasn't a company person--that a nine-to-five job didn't suit me.

Your first marriage failed. Why?

We were married eight years and just grew apart in our interests, that's all. He was--and still is--a very nice man and we are good friends. There was nothing personal in our break-up, no animosity at all.

You then married and divorced a second time.

That was a paper marriage. He was a lot of fun to be with, but I don't think he was great husband material. He had no financial acumen at all. When I became pregnant with my daughter, we married just for her sake, and quickly divorced. Life became much easier after we broke up, but we've always remained friends and she was able to experience having a father.

Is that what stimulated your interest in the subject of divorce?

Not really. While at The Japan Times, I had visited Scandinavia to report on the way the societies of Sweden and Denmark were structured and how they handled matters of welfare. What most impressed me was seeing how women continued to work; how they created positive lives for themselves and raised their children in an atmosphere of open tolerance. I wondered why Japan was so different. I knew the answer, of course: the long-standing, deeply entrenched pressures of a society based on the Confucian tradition. So I set out to try and change attitudes. I wrote a book about divorce first. Then I began a grassroots organization, a series of seminars called Rikon Koza, Hand in Hand.

You've talked about facing some difficult times after news of your divorce got out.

I didn't talk to anyone about my own divorce, but the weekly Shukan Shincho dug it up. They wrote headlines like, "That woman Madoka is now qualified!" What had shocked everyone earlier was the fact that I was talking and writing about divorce while I was still married. They couldn't understand it, and felt I was shaming my husband.

How strong was the negative reaction?

I got a lot of phone calls. Newspaper people are the most conservative people around so they would sometimes refuse to run seminar announcements. And it was very difficult to get venues. There were a lot of people who supported us, though--one university professor even let us use his premises--and a lot of people who agreed with our use of the word "smiling" with divorce. The Health and Welfare Ministry once told us, "If you remove the word `smiling,' we'll let you use our venue."

Is it any accident that the divorce rate has risen in line with your activities?

I'm proud that women, in particular, feel increasingly confident that they can go it alone and survive when their marriages don't work out. There's much less prejudice against the divorced and I know we had a lot to do with that.

So what made you change from grassroots volunteerism to mainstream politics?

The thought of entering politics had never even entered my mind until I met Morihiro Hosokawa. My friend Taki Kato, who is the daughter of 98-year-old Shizue Kato, introduced us. Shizue Kato is one of the 39 women who were first elected to the Diet after women were given the vote by MacArthur in 1947.

But what is the attraction of being a politician?

I had been trying to change womens' consciousness for the past 20 years as a volunteer. I'd tried very hard as a citizen to get politicians to listen, but we weren't getting anywhere. I was feeling a bit frustrated when Hosokawa talked me into getting on the side of those who make the laws. It was a time when we were trying to throw out the LDP and make something new, and that time with the Nihon Shinto was the most exciting time in my life.

But why go to Shinshinto?

Because of Hosokawa. There's an enormous amount of work to do. The role of the PKO must be clarified and I'm against any duty on the Golan Heights. Also the "comfort women" issue must be properly settled, and I'm in favor of compensation for what they suffered. I'm also just opposed to solving trouble with military power.

I was just thinking how badly Murayama handled the apology. And how clever the LDP was for choosing Murayama at this time.

Well, I think it's already clear. The Socialists will make a new party in October and Murayama will resign after the Lower House elections. Everybody is expecting that. If it doesn't happen, the economy is in trouble. If the economy is in trouble, then the world economy is in trouble.

Who will be the next prime minister?

Well, of course I'd like to see Hosokawa at the top again. There was a lot that he wanted to do that was left undone. But there was just nothing he could do. Takemura went completely against him, and Nihon Shinto just didn't have enough power. We wanted to prepare Hosokawa to become prime minister five or six years later. But he reached the top much too early. We just didn't have enough power. The system doesn't give the prime minister much power--even Mahathir and other leaders in Asia have more money and power than him. That's why I have to gain power, too. I don't want anyone else to be PM.

How close are the attitudes of members from the different parties who formed Shinshinto?

It's all mixed up.

So what do the members of Shinshinto have in common?

I know it's a strange alliance; I can't say I have so much in common with Shinseito, Minshato, nor Komeito. What unifies us, purely and simply, is our strong desire for change. The LDP and the Socialists represent the old Japanese system of the past. And maybe they played an important part up until now. But it's a basic system that was built during a period of militarism. And after the war, it may have been important for the sake of rebuilding to run the nation's economy with a war mentality. We have to get away from the LDP's reliance on powerful interest groups.

Why did you opt for the House of Councilors?

It's true that the Lower House has more power. But elections are frequent so you need a lot of money to run and I don't have any. Lower House members aren't able to think on a larger scale; they have to constantly worry about taking care of their constituents. I wanted to work for six years on important issues without worrying about elections. I'm also the last person to go around with a begging bowl, organizing parties for collecting funds. I hate all of that.

Give us an example of your daily schedule?

Let's see. I get up at six. My daughter has a Japanese breakfast but I live on coffee. Weekdays I'm at my desk by 8am reading policy papers. By 10 the meetings start, and even lunch time is busy with study groups and other meetings. People are always coming by here. At least three times a week, I have to be here until 9pm, but I try to get back home for dinner with my daughter. Most weekends, either Saturday or Sunday, I make public appearances, not as a Diet member but as a critic.

Aren't you on summer holiday now?

Yes, but I'm preparing to go to Beijing for the UN women's conference.

Are you going to be doing anything specific? Are you speaking?

Hand in Hand will be holding a workshop at the NGO conference, and I'll be involved with that as a private citizen. I'll also be appearing as a Diet member at the main conference but I won't have any chance to speak in an official capacity.

Is the workshop in Beijing meant to be an introduction to the Hand in Hand concept or encouragement?

>With this kind of activism, the most important thing is to get started. That's the hard part. Once society accepts the concept, anyone can do it. Like Hand in Hand--it's not going to be just me, it's four of us introducing it in Beijing. The energy to start it--and gathering funds for its continuance--I take responsibility for that. After that, other people should get involved.

I don't think China really understood what it was taking on when it agreed to hold the conference.

That may be true. I think China ignores the human rights of women with its one-child policy. There's also difficulty with their nuclear testing, and we're planning to protest that. I think Japan will get some flack for the "comfort women" issue, as well. But over 5000 women are going from Japan.

Which laws do you want to change the most?

I've spent 20 years working with the divorce problem and the law hasn't changed a bit over that time. But as a politician, a lot is congruent: divorce, housing, taxes, education. I want to change the laws affecting women; there are just so many areas to cover.

Which laws do you think will be the most difficult to change?

It's almost impossible to get the male Diet members to understand women's positions. There are laws against rape and against robbery that were passed in the Meiji era. Which is worse according to the law: having something stolen or being raped? In Japan, property is much more important than a woman's rights or her body, so the penalty for robbery is heavier than for rape. I've brought this up in the Diet, but there are very few men who can recognize that it's even a problem. These guys are very, very conservative when it comes to a woman's sexuality.

What are the penalties for robbery and rape?

The basic sentence for a serious rape, for example, is two years, and for a serious robbery five. And there's another bizarre factor. If a woman doesn't defend herself--even if the reason is for fear of being hurt, then it's not rape. That's unbelievable.

Can male Diet members understand what the comfort women went through?

I believe that men, of course, can also be innocent victims of war. But the comfort women are not only victims of war, they are victims of sex itself. It's double prejudice. Even with men that you get along with, if you talk seriously about the subjects of sexuality and rape, you'll end up getting into a fight. There's a long way to go.

Why aren't there more women in politics?

One of the sayings in Japanese politics is that politicians, in order to be successful, need kanban, kaban and jiban. Kanban literally means "signboard," and it refers to the family name, which is very important in a political system that has so many dynasties. Since 98 percent of women take their husband's name, that tends to be a barrier. Kaban means "briefcase," and it refers to the money that is necessary to run. Because women's earning power is half that of men, they are hampered in this respect too. Jiban means "constituency" and, since wives are often asked to follow their husbands as they are transferred around the country, they have a hard time putting down roots and building local support.

So women have to overcome many barriers.

Another problem is that many women even seem to think that women don't belong in politics. Female politicians bear part of the blame because we are often only involved with so called "women's issues"--education, the environment, etc. We should be more involved in defence, finance and other "hard" issues. And I'm speaking of myself, as well.

So what is the solution to this?

As long as these detrimental factors hinder the number of female politicians we should institute a quota program that sets a specific percentage of seats for women in every party. Ideally, we should have 50 percent of the membership, but I realize that is a bit of a dream. To try to increase the percentage, though, last November I started the 50 Club, an organization which includes fund raising for female candidates--regardless of their party. We hold training courses in debating and I also travel around giving lectures on the club's behalf, promoting the quota system.

What other specific activities are you involved with?

In March of 1993, I started the Political School for Women, a one-year course that meets twice a month in order to educate and inform people with an interest in politics. Four women and one man who took the course--it is open to men, by the way--were voted in in the last election, and we supported them with campaign speeches and so on from the 50 Club, so you can see that these activities have a synergy to them which is very important.

It seems like Japanese women are making tremendous progress but the men aren't keeping up.

Men are changing too, little by little. I don't think all women necessarily understand about their problems, either. We all have our prejudices.

What are yours?

[laughs] I think I had a lot in the past. But as I gained knowledge, I changed.

Is life easier than it used to be?

Let's say I'm much busier since I became a Diet member.

More stressful?

There's a lot of stress, but I always deal with it at my own pace. I'm not the type of person to get along in a big organization, but the good part is that I'm doing what I like. To work for society at your own pace is a pretty good situation. Sometimes I feel like I want to go hide in the world of books, but in the end I love the challenge of trying to change society.

(callout)

"Female politicians bear part of the blame because we are often only involved with so called 'women's issues.' We should be more involved in defence, finance and other 'hard' issues."