In the late 1970s, a young woman spent six hours daily traveling by bus and train from her family home near Nara to attend university. She loved heavy metal bands and Kawasaki motorcycles, dreaming of independence while her mother insisted she remain at home until marriage. That woman, Sanae Takaichi, just made history as Japan’s first female prime minister.

On Tuesday, Takaichi claimed victory in a nation where women have long fought for political influence. Her election marks the culmination of an unlikely ascent through one of Asia’s most traditional political establishments.

Defying expectations at every turn

At 64, Takaichi resists simple categorization. She once candidly discussed the difficulties women face in Japanese politics, yet now leads the conservative, male-dominated Liberal Democratic Party. She has questioned Japan’s dependence on the United States while expressing eagerness to collaborate with President Trump. An amateur drummer who admires Iron Maiden and Deep Purple, she wears blue suits honoring her other idol, former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher.

As a protégé of Shinzo Abe, Japan’s longest-serving prime minister who was assassinated in 2022, Takaichi is expected to push Japan further right. Her approach echoes populist movements similar to Trump’s MAGA coalition. She advocates hawkish positions on China, downplays Japan’s World War II atrocities, and pledges stricter immigration and tourism controls.

Yoshiko Sakurai, a prominent journalist supporting Takaichi, believes she wants Japan to thrive domestically and globally while staying rooted in Japanese culture and traditions.

Testing new waters

Takaichi faces immediate challenges navigating uncertainty around Japan’s military and economic relationship with America. She will likely meet Trump next week in Tokyo, as the president has unsettled Japanese officials with tariffs and suggestions that Japan should increase payments for American troop presence.

Humble beginnings shape character

Unlike many Japanese politicians from privileged backgrounds, Takaichi grew up modestly in Nara Prefecture, surrounded by temples, shrines and forests. Her mother worked for the police department while her father labored at an auto parts manufacturer.

Motoko Shimada, a childhood friend, remembers a pigtailed classmate who shared homemade rice balls and omelets with students who forgot lunches on school trips. She describes Takaichi as smiley and reserved, someone who noticed struggling classmates and helped them blend in.

Takaichi recognized early the pressures confronting Japanese women. Her mother urged her to be a crimson rose, retaining feminine grace while possessing thorns to confront wrongdoing.

Education and awakening

Her parents pushed her toward Kobe University, a state school 50 miles from home, despite acceptance to elite Tokyo institutions. They believed their daughter needed less education as a girl, preferring to save money for her younger brother.

After graduation, Takaichi attended the Matsushita Institute of Government and Management, a prestigious training ground for future leaders. In the late 1980s, she secured an internship with former Colorado Representative Patricia Schroeder, a Democrat and feminist. Takaichi had sent Schroeder a telegram after her tearful 1987 speech declining a presidential run, encouraging her to try again.

In Washington, Takaichi questioned aides about Congress and foreign policy while developing a fondness for peanut butter. Andrea Camp, a former Schroeder aide, noted no hint of her current conservative defense or social views.

Breaking through barriers

Returning to Japan, Takaichi worked as an author and television personality, building a reputation as a fierce debater. In 1993, she won a Parliament seat as an independent from Nara, campaigning on political reform. Her father contributed his retirement savings to her campaign.

In Parliament, Takaichi discovered the isolation women endure in politics. Male colleagues proved dismissive, conducting business at saunas and social clubs where female lawmakers could not easily participate.

She forged an alliance with Abe, finding common ground on military spending and patriotic history education. When Abe became prime minister in 2006, he appointed her to his cabinet, elevating her visibility. She defended his policies, including constitutional revision to expand military capabilities.

Continuing a legacy

After Abe’s assassination outside a Nara train station, Takaichi felt devastated. She vowed to work harder, refusing to apologize to his memory.

When Shigeru Ishiba resigned in September following electoral defeats, Takaichi challenged four men, winning with a message about transforming anxieties into hope.

Her personal life has drawn attention. She married fellow politician Taku Yamamoto in 2004, divorced in 2017 after political arguments, then remarried in 2021. Yamamoto took her surname, unusual in patriarchal Japan.

In her Kashihara City hometown, supporters celebrate her success. Her former hairdresser, Yukitoshi Arai, pioneered her signature cropped style, wanting her eyes and ears visible to show she listens.

After her leadership victory, Arai texted encouragement. Two days later, Takaichi responded simply: the battle begins now.