Tokyo’s defence chief has sounded a stark alarm: Japan’s military expansion is not a provocation but a necessity to deter conflict in an increasingly volatile Indo-Pacific. Speaking at a press conference, Defence Minister Minoru Kihara framed the nation’s historic defence build-up as a ‘critical’ step towards preventing war, arguing that credible deterrence is the only language adversaries understand.
Kihara’s remarks come as Japan enters the second year of its largest military transformation since World War II. The government has committed to doubling defence spending to 2% of GDP by 2027, acquiring long-range missiles, and deploying counterstrike capabilities. This shift, once unthinkable in pacifist-postwar Japan, is now presented as a defensive necessity against a rapidly modernising Chinese military and an unpredictable North Korea.
‘The security environment surrounding Japan is the most severe since the end of the war,’ Kihara stated. ‘We must accelerate the reinforcement of our defence capabilities at an unprecedented speed. This is not about escalating tensions but about preventing any potential aggressor from believing they can achieve their objectives through force.’
Kihara’s logic echoes a core principle of strategic studies: the paradox of peace through strength. By demonstrating the will and capacity to inflict unacceptable costs, a state can dissuade adversaries from initiating conflict. However, critics warn that Japan’s build-up risks triggering a regional arms race, particularly with China, which has already condemned Tokyo’s ‘dangerous’ trajectory.
For the common citizen, Kihara’s words translate into tangible changes. The Japan Self-Defence Forces are no longer a symbolic entity but an active deterrent. New bases in remote islands, joint exercises with allies, and the acquisition of Tomahawk cruise missiles signal a departure from purely defensive posture. Yet, the minister insists that Japan will not become a ‘military power’ and that its actions remain strictly defensive under Article 9 of the constitution.
Questions linger over the sustainability of this build-up. Japan faces a shrinking population and competing fiscal priorities. The government has yet to explain how it will finance the 43 trillion yen ($290 billion) plan without raising taxes or issuing more debt. Moreover, the lack of a clear threat assessment fuels scepticism that the build-up is driven more by US pressure than genuine need.
Kihara’s warning also highlights a deeper societal shift. For decades, Japan’s post-war identity was defined by anti-militarism. Now, public opinion is gradually accepting a more muscular defence posture, partly due to heightened awareness of regional threats. But the minister acknowledged the need for ‘thorough public debate’ to ensure that the build-up enjoys democratic legitimacy.
From a tech perspective, Japan is also investing in cutting-edge defence technologies. The defence ministry is accelerating research into AI-powered drones, cyber defence, and quantum computing for cryptography. These tools, Kihara argued, are not just force multipliers but essential for a smaller, ageing force to maintain an edge. Yet, the ethical use of AI in warfare remains a concern. Autonomous weapons systems could lower the threshold for conflict, contradicting the very deterrence Kihara seeks to create.
In many ways, Japan’s dilemma mirrors the broader challenge of the 21st century: how to maintain peace in a world where old rules no longer apply. Kihara’s message is clear: strength is the foundation of diplomacy. But as Japan arms itself, the line between deterrent and provocation becomes perilously thin. The next few years will test whether this calculated bet on military modernisation pays off in a more stable region.
For now, the defence minister’s warning serves as a reality check. The era of Japan’s quiet pacifism is over. Whether this new posture prevents war or inadvertently invites it is the question that will define the nation’s future.
