Rethinking Japan’s Imperial Succession: Patriarchy and the Search for National Identity

Succession Dilemma

A controversial revision of the Imperial House Law was enacted in July, sparking criticism and debate among a sharply divided, but largely disapproving public.

To be clear, the Japanese emperor is not a ruling monarch with political power or the authority to govern. As stated in Article 1 of the Constitution, promulgated in the aftermath of World War II, the emperor is “the symbol of the State and of the unity of the People, deriving his position from the will of the people with whom resides sovereign power.” This situates Japan’s imperial institution in the category of symbolic monarchies, the weakest form of constitutional monarchy.

That said, Japan’s imperial throne resembles typical monarchies in the sense that it is hereditary. Article 2 of the Constitution states, “The Imperial Throne shall be dynastic and succeeded to in accordance with the Imperial House Law passed by the Diet.”

Herein lies the problem. Article 1 of the Imperial House Law, originally enacted in 1889, stipulates that “the Imperial Throne shall be succeeded to by a male offspring in the male line belonging to the Imperial Lineage.”

Over the course of Japanese history, eight women have occupied the imperial throne, accounting for 10 of Japan’s official imperial reigns. Nonetheless, the Imperial House Law enacted after the Meiji Restoration of 1868 prohibited the accession of female emperors. And even after the promulgation of a new, democratic Constitution following Japan’s defeat in World War II, this provision of the Imperial House Law remained unchanged.

This constraint has grown increasingly problematic in recent years, as the number of children born to the imperial family has dwindled. Emperor Naruhito (age 66) and his wife, Empress Masako (62), have only one child, Princess Aiko (24). This puts the emperor’s younger brother, Crown Prince Akishino (60) and Akishino’s son, Prince Hisahito (20), first and second in line to the throne, respectively. Thanks to the nephew, succession seemed assured for the time being, but with so few young men in the imperial household, the future was looking uncertain.

A Step Backward

In response, the government recently introduced and enacted an amendment permitting the imperial family to adopt male relatives from branches of the family that were stripped of their imperial status after World War II. The male offspring of such men will then become eligible to succeed to the throne in the absence of a closer male relative. While another new provision allows female members of the imperial family to retain their imperial status even after marriage (previously, they automatically became commoners), it does not extend the same status to the princess’s husband or children. In short, the path to the throne is legally closed not only to female members of the imperial family but also to their descendants.

In this matter, the government appears to be out of step with public opinion. The cabinet’s approval rating fell by between 5% and 11% immediately after enactment of the revised Imperial House Law according to most polls. Even a survey by the daily Yomiuri Shimbun, which leans toward the right, found a full 85% of respondents in favor of amending the law again to permit the accession of female emperors.

What about the response overseas? The dominant reaction in the mainstream and social media seems to be one of amazement at the persistence of such sexist attitudes. “How old-fashioned!” exclaims one representative post. Many also find it ironic that the legislation was submitted by the cabinet of Takaichi Sanae, Japan’s first female prime minister. “If women can hold the office of Prime Minister,” remarks one contributor, “there is no compelling reason why Princess Aiko should be excluded from imperial succession.”

To be sure, some of those active in the international discourse space defend the move—ostensibly from the standpoint of cultural relativism and respect for Japanese culture—in some cases, accusing critics of ethnocentrism. “Let some countries keep their traditions,” argues one. “Not everything needs to be modernized.”

Japanese pundits who support the revision have also emphasized “Japanese tradition.” They acknowledge that there have been female emperors (six in ancient times and two in the Edo period) but point out that they were all connected to the imperial family patrilineally; matrilineal succession was never permitted. They further reject the possibility of installing female offspring in the male line on the grounds that it would open the door to matrilineal succession.

The readership of the multilingual website Nippon.com includes both Japanese and foreign nationals. Let us know—what are your views on the issue?

Japan’s Bilateral Tradition

I have long taken issue with the assumption that patrilineal descent (male-line succession) is an indigenous Japanese tradition. To the contrary, a preference for patrilineal succession within the imperial household emerged from the Sinicization of the Japanese monarchy.

I am a family sociologist by training, and I have used the methods of historical demography to study the Japanese family from the Edo period (1603–1868) through the early Meiji era (1868–1912). During that time period, roughly one out of every five Japanese men was adopted by another family, and more than half of those adopted males were muko-yōshi, or adopted sons-in-law.(*1) The custom of adopting a son-in-law, a means of ensuring the continuity of the family line through the female line, was all but obligatory among households with daughters but no biological sons old enough to succeed to headship of the family. Nonmarital adoption was the rule among households with neither eligible sons nor daughters. In the latter case, a son was often chosen from among male relatives on the mother’s side. (At other times, the adopted heir might be a complete stranger.)

This freedom from rigid patrilineal descent is a traditional characteristic of the Japanese family. It often comes as a surprise to people from China or Korea, where succession—including by adoption—was traditionally limited to male relatives with the same surname.

It might be supposed that, within the class society of the Edo period, such expedient flexibility was limited to commoners, such as farmers, merchants, and artisans. Surely the ruling warrior class, with its emphasis on Confucian values, was more rigidly patrilineal? To put such doubts to rest, let me introduce Tsubouchi Reiko’s groundbreaking 2001 study Keishō no jinkō shakaigaku—dare ga “ie” o tsuida ka (The Population Sociology of Succession: Who Inherited the Household?). This is a work of historical demography based on a quantitative analysis of the genealogies of samurai households as recorded by various han (hereditary domains) during the Edo period. While the premodern samurai are said to have adhered to the principle of primogeniture (succession by the eldest son), this book highlights the complementary system that functioned in families with no biological male son. Tsubouchi’s research reveals that, among those who met the demographic condition of having daughters but no sons, more than 60% adopted a son-in-law, while around 10%–30% adopted a son outside of marriage. Even within the warrior class, adherence to the patrilineal norm of male-line male-only succession was not very strict.

Princess Aiko’s popularity is only part of the reason some 85% of Japanese adults currently support the recognition of a female emperor. A deeper factor informing this viewpoint is the longstanding tradition that generations of Japanese people have witnessed or experienced themselves.

Lineal Flexibility in Peripheral Societies

Let us broaden our historical perspective.

The French historical demographer and anthropologist Emmanuel Todd has posited that dual-lineage societies were once widespread across the Eurasian continent. These are societies that trace both the male and female lineages, instead of focusing on one at the expense of the other. The clans of prehistoric and early ancient Japan are believed to have preserved such a system. Women account for a significant portion of rulers interred in Japan’s burial mounds during the Kofun period (third century to early seventh century); Himiko, referred to in ancient Chinese records as the ruler of Yamatai, was no exception. Moreover, half of the emperors who reigned during the Nara period (710–794) were women.

As Todd explains it, patrilineal systems were the rule among the great civilizations of the Eurasian interior, including China, India, and the empires of West Asia (in part, it has been suggested, because they were more successful at war and aggression). As Todd explains it, the history of the family is defined by the retreat of dual-lineage societies to the continental periphery as the patriarchal systems of the great civilizations prevailed, whether through invasion or through cultural dominance.(*2) My extensive research into the Asian family has led me to the same conclusion.

In Japan, the adoption of the Ritsuryō system of government (originating in Tang-dynasty (618–907) China) triggered a gradual shift toward patrilineal descent among the leading clans. Yet matrilocal customs (the practice of residing with the wife’s family after marriage) continued among the aristocrats of the Heian period (794–1185). Matrilateral relationships remained very important and influential into the late Heian and Kamakura period (1185–1333), as seen in the powerful Fujiwara and Hōjō clans.

Moreover, the shift toward male-line succession was never fully embraced by the general populace. The traditional system of dual-lineage descent lived on in the customs of the common people. The importation of social norms and practices from more “advanced” civilizations often begins among the upper classes. When the customs of a society’s upper echelon diverge from those of the common folk, it is probably a mistake to assume that the former are more representative of that society’s indigenous traditions.

Japan was not the only country subject to the “patrilinealizing” pressure of Chinese civilization. On the Korean Peninsula, matrilocal marriage continued through the Goryeo period (935–1392), but it retreated during the Joseon period (1392–1897), amid the rapid spread of Confucianism. To ensure the purity of the patrilineal line, Korean widows were admonished not to remarry and in some cases even encouraged to follow their husbands to the grave. In Japan, by contrast, it remained relatively easy for women to divorce and remarry. Compared with Korea, Japan was separated from the Asian continent and thus more insulated from China’s direct influence. Like societies on Europe’s western edge, Japan sustained its tradition of dual-lineage descent even as patrilineal norms came to dominate. The survival of bilateral descent in these peripheral regions is evidenced by the periodic emergence of female monarchs.

Beyond the Confucian Patriarchy

Japan’s national identity is not easily defined. In the Edo period, scholars in the emerging field of Japanese studies, represented by Motoori Norinaga (1730–1801) and Hirata Atsutane (1776–1843), drew a distinction between the indigenous Japanese spirit (yamato-gokoro), and the character of imported Chinese-derived norms and forms (kara-gokoro). One difference they emphasized was the indigenous Japanese tradition of recognizing the female line. By contrast, the roughly contemporaneous school of Mitogaku, rooted in Confucianism, insisted on the principle of patrilineal succession. The historians of this school insisted that the third-century empress Jingū be referred to as kōgō (imperial consort) instead of sharing the more exalted title of tennō with Japan’s male emperors, legendary and historical.(*3)

Mitogaku held sway over the government following the Meiji Restoration, with the result that the Imperial House Law codified the rule—previously unknown in Japan—that only male offspring in the male line could succeed to the throne. The image of a male emperor also suited a modern state anxious to augment its international clout, including its military might. The spirit of the modern Japanese empire was embodied in the image of Emperor Meiji, posed on horseback and dressed in a Western-style military uniform, replacing the emperor’s traditional Japanese court robes.

No society has one simple, monolithic identity. One might best think of our national identity as a composite of overlapping, interacting layers, each deriving from different historical circumstances: a fundamental kinship structure overlaid with elements imported from a nearby great civilization and further reorganized on the model of a modern nation-state, for example.

However, the tendency among today’s conservatives, wherever they are, is to focus on the great-civilization component of national identity, including the associated religious or ethical system. Unfortunately, this layer is almost always patriarchal—and hence patrilineal—in nature. Japan is no exception. This is why the imperial household is now legally bound by an uncharacteristically inflexible patrilineal rule of succession.

But this trend poses a dilemma for Japan, situated as it is on the periphery of the Chinese civilizational sphere. Patrilinealization means Sinicization. Accepting that means positioning ourselves within China’s sphere of influence in today’s unstable world order. Historically, Japan has absorbed many elements of Chinese civilization and culture, from chopsticks and tōfu to kanji and literature. But we do not want to absorb the entire package, including autocracy and male supremacy. To survive the restructuring of the global order currently underway, we would do better to seek our own complex identity in the uniquely flexible traditions of our own multilayered society, remaining conscious of the possibilities for connections with other cultural spheres.

(Originally published in Japanese on August 20, 2026. Banner photo: Imperial family members at the New Year public greetings at the Imperial Palace on January 2, 2026. From left to right, Princess Aiko, the daughter of Emperor Naruhito, Princess Kako, the second daughter of Crown Prince Fumihito; and her younger brother Prince Hisahito, who is second in line to the throne. © Sankei Visual.)