Tokyo, Japan – October 17, 2025 – Tomiichi Murayama, Japan's former Prime Minister whose historic apology for the country's World War II aggression marked a pivotal moment in post-war reconciliation, passed away on Friday at the age of 101. His death, announced by family members and confirmed by Kyodo News, comes at a sensitive time, as China has lodged a formal protest against recent Japanese offerings to the controversial Yasukuni Shrine, explicitly invoking Murayama's 1995 statement as a benchmark for Tokyo's historical accountability.
Murayama's passing closes a chapter on one of Japan's most unlikely leaders: a socialist premier who forged an unprecedented coalition with conservative rivals to steer the nation through economic turmoil and historical introspection. Elected in June 1994 and serving until January 1996, he was the first head of government from the socialist camp in 47 years, breaking decades of dominance by the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP). His tenure, though brief, left an indelible mark on Japan's foreign relations, domestic policy, and its reckoning with imperial-era atrocities.
Born on March 23, 1924, in Yatsuo, a rural village in southwestern Oita Prefecture, Murayama embodied the grit of post-war Japan. The son of a fisherman, he navigated poverty during the Great Depression and World War II, experiences that later fueled his commitment to social justice and pacifism. After studying at Meiji University in Tokyo, he returned to Oita, where he worked as a teacher and labor organizer. His political career ignited in 1960 when he joined the Japan Socialist Party (later the Social Democratic Party, or SDP), rising through its ranks as a vocal critic of militarism and inequality.
Murayama's entry into national politics came in 1972, when he won a seat in the House of Representatives, the lower chamber of Japan's Diet. Over the next 28 years, he served eight consecutive terms, becoming a fixture in opposition politics during the LDP's near-unbroken rule from 1955 to 1993. Known for his unassuming demeanor—often described as "grandfatherly" with a penchant for simple suits and folksy speeches—Murayama championed workers' rights, environmental protection, and disarmament. By the early 1990s, as SDP leader, he positioned himself as a bridge-builder amid Japan's political fragmentation.
The backdrop to his premiership was chaos. The LDP's 1993 election loss ended its 38-year monopoly, ushering in a multiparty era. Murayama capitalized on this by forming a grand coalition: the SDP allied with the LDP and the tiny New Party Sakigake, a moderate LDP splinter led by Tsutomu Hata. This "unnatural" partnership, as critics called it, secured Murayama's election on June 29, 1994, with 261 votes in the Diet. At 70, he became Japan's oldest prime minister at the time, overseeing a fragile government that prioritized stability over ideology.
Economically, Murayama's administration grappled with the "Lost Decade" fallout from the 1991 asset bubble burst. Unemployment hit record highs, banks teetered on collapse, and public debt soared. His government injected ¥20 trillion (about $200 billion at the time) into financial stabilization, laying groundwork for later reforms under successors like Ryutaro Hashimoto. Socially, it advanced gender equality, passing the 1994 Equal Employment Opportunity Law amendments to combat workplace discrimination.
Yet Murayama's enduring legacy stems from his bold confrontation with history. On August 15, 1995—the 50th anniversary of Japan's surrender in World War II—he delivered the "Murayama Statement" before the Diet. In a measured, 10-minute address, he declared: "During a certain period in the not too distant past, Japan, following a mistaken national policy, advanced along the road to war, only to enslave people of Asia and elsewhere outside Japan and control them and inflict upon them tremendous damage and suffering."
He expressed "deep remorse" and a "heartfelt apology" for the "colonial rule and aggression" that caused "tremendous damage and suffering to the people of many countries." The statement explicitly acknowledged wartime atrocities, including the Nanjing Massacre, forced labor, and comfort women system—euphemism for sexual slavery imposed on tens of thousands of women, primarily from Korea and China.
This was no mere rhetoric. The Murayama government translated words into action. In November 1994, it enacted the Atomic Bomb Survivors' Relief Law, providing lifelong medical care and pensions to over 250,000 hibakusha (atomic bomb survivors) from Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Annual stipends rose from ¥20,000 to ¥100,000, with total redress exceeding ¥500 billion by 2025.
On another front, in 1995, Murayama established the Asian Women's Fund, a semiofficial body funded by private donations and government contributions. It disbursed ¥2.2 million (about $20,000) to 360 surviving "comfort women" in South Korea, the Philippines, Taiwan, and the Netherlands, alongside letters of apology from the prime minister. The fund, however, proved controversial: victims in Korea rejected it as insufficient, demanding direct state compensation. It dissolved in 2007 after aiding just a fraction of an estimated 200,000 victims, many deceased. South Korea's Supreme Court in 2023 ruled that Japan must pay survivors directly, a case still unresolved.
Murayama's humanism extended domestically. His government boosted welfare spending by 10%, expanding childcare and elder care amid Japan's aging crisis. Environmentally, it ratified the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change, committing to emissions cuts. Internationally, he normalized ties with North Korea, signing a 1995 joint declaration on normalization talks—efforts derailed by Pyongyang's nuclear ambitions.
Retiring from the premiership in January 1996 amid coalition strains, Murayama left politics in June 2000 after his eighth term. Post-retirement, he founded the Murayama Tomiichi Peace Foundation, advocating for constitutional pacifism and Asian reconciliation. In 2010, he revisited the comfort women issue, personally apologizing to survivors in Seoul. Until his final years in a Tokyo nursing home, he warned against revisionist trends eroding his statement's spirit.
Murayama is survived by his wife, Kaoru, two sons, and four grandchildren. His funeral, private per his wishes, will occur next week in Oita. Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba hailed him as "a man of profound conscience who healed wounds of history." SDP leader Mizuho Fukushima called his apology "the gold standard of remorse."
Yet Murayama's death coincides with diplomatic friction, amplifying its resonance. On Friday, as news broke, China protested offerings sent by Ishiba and LDP President Sanae Takaichi to Yasukuni Shrine for its autumn festival. The Shinto facility honors 2.46 million war dead, including 14 Class-A criminals like Hideki Tojo, executed for aggression.
China's Foreign Ministry spokesman Lin Jian, speaking in Beijing, labeled Yasukuni a "spiritual tool and symbol of Japan’s militarism." He noted it enshrines those "bearing serious responsibility for wars of aggression abroad." Beijing "firmly opposes" such actions and "lodged solemn representations" with Tokyo.
Lin directly invoked Murayama: "The Murayama Statement represents a solemn acknowledgment and commitment by the Japanese government to the people of victim countries in Asia and the international community regarding that period of aggression and colonial rule." He urged Tokyo to "uphold" it, reminding that Yasukuni visits by leaders like Shinzo Abe in 2013 sparked boycotts and UN condemnations.
South Korea echoed the protest, with its foreign ministry calling the offerings "deeply regrettable" and contrary to "Murayama's spirit." President Yoon Suk Yeol's office, navigating improved Japan ties, stressed historical reflection.
Ishiba, a moderate on history, defended the offerings as "private religious acts," not state policy. Takaichi, a hawkish nationalist elected LDP president last month, has long advocated Yasukuni visits, clashing with Murayama's pacifism. Her rise signals a conservative shift, potentially straining Ishiba's minority government.
Analysts see irony: Murayama's coalition with the LDP enabled his apology, yet today's LDP flirts with revisionism. "His death is a wake-up call," said historian Yoshiko Nozaki of Japan's National Institute for Humanities. "As China rises and Korea modernizes, Japan can't afford historical amnesia."
Murayama's statement has been reaffirmed by every prime minister since—Junichiro Koizumi in 2005, Yukio Hatoyama in 2010, Fumio Kishida in 2021—yet Yasukuni remains a flashpoint. A 2024 Asahi Shimbun poll showed 62% of Japanese under 40 unaware of the statement, underscoring education gaps.
Globally, Murayama's legacy influences reparations debates. The U.S. cited it in 1998 urging Japan-North Korea talks; the EU referenced it in 2022 human rights reports. In Asia, it underpins trilateral summits, though trust erodes amid territorial disputes.
As Japan mourns, Murayama's words endure: "We must pass on to future generations the horrors of war." His life—from Oita fisherman to apology architect—reminds that reconciliation demands courage. With Sino-Japanese ties at a crossroads, his passing may galvanize adherence to the path he forged.
