KEY TAKEAWAYS

• Why do Japanese say Japanese First?

• What is the Prime Minister Of Japan Sanae Takaichi saying about foreigners in Japan?

• Do Japanese dislike or like foreigners in Japan?

• How many foreigners are living in Japan?

• Does Sanae Takaichi Prime Minister Of Japan want foreigners out of Japan?

Sanae Takaichi: Love & Loathe Foreigners?

Daniel TJ International Correspondent Tokyo, Japan

Alright, so — it’s been a few weeks now since Sanae Takaichi officially became Japan’s Prime Minister. The country’s still kind of adjusting to it, honestly. November 2025 feels like a turning point in Japan’s story, and everyone’s watching to see how it plays out.

It’s wild to think about, really — Japan finally has its first female prime minister. When it happened, there was this wave of excitement, even a bit of pride. You could feel it — on the morning trains, in coffee shops, even in those little “aisatsu” (greeting) conversations with neighbors.

People said things like, “It’s about time,” and “Maybe things will really change now.” But, as always in Japan, there’s also that quiet pause behind every big statement. Because change here comes slow, and people like to see how new things settle before deciding how they really feel.

What’s kept people talking, though, isn’t just that she’s the first woman in charge — it’s what she’s been saying lately.

Especially that story about the deer. Yeah, that one.

A few weeks ago, Takaichi mentioned in a public address that “English-speaking visitors once kicked one of our sacred deer in Nara.” She used it as an example of foreigners disrespecting Japanese customs — this idea that people from overseas sometimes come here and don’t understand what’s precious to Japan.

Now, if you’ve ever been to Nara, you know those deer are basically national celebrities. They roam freely, bow for crackers, and they’re tied deeply to Shinto tradition. So, hearing the Prime Minister use them as a symbol of foreign disrespect hit hard. It wasn’t just about the deer — it was about identity, pride, and boundaries.

But here’s the thing — when reporters dug into the story, no one could really confirm that the “English speakers” part was true. There were incidents, sure, but nothing that clearly matched her description. Still, the story spread fast, partly because it tapped into something that’s been simmering for years:

How Japan feels about foreigners, especially those who live here long-term.

Since that speech, Takaichi’s tone has been pretty firm. She’s said things like Japan must “deal strictly” with foreigners who break the law or “violate the spirit of Japan’s traditions.” That phrase — the spirit of Japan — I’ve heard it repeated on TV talk shows, in izakayas, even in small community meetings. People nod, some agree, some frown.

I was sitting with a friend of mine, Yuki, from Osaka the other day, and she said something that summed it up perfectly: “We don’t hate foreigners. But sometimes, they don’t try to understand us.” Then she paused and added, “But you know, we Japanese break rules too.”

And she’s right. I’ve been here long enough to see both sides. Foreigners sometimes do dumb stuff — I’ve seen tourists climb torii gates for photos, smoke in no-smoking zones, or ignore “quiet car” rules on the train.

But I’ve also seen Japanese folks litter after festivals, ignore traffic lights on bikes, or pretend not to notice an elderly person struggling to get a seat. Everyone breaks rules sometimes — we’re all human. But when foreigners do it, it gets magnified. It becomes a symbol of “outsiders not respecting Japan.”

That’s what makes Takaichi’s comments sting a little for those of us who live here as foreigners. It’s not just what she said — it’s how it feeds into that quiet unease some people already have toward non-Japanese residents.

You start to feel like you’re being watched, or like your small mistakes represent something bigger than yourself.

I’ll give you an example. Last summer in Nara, I was sitting by the park, watching people feed the deer. There was this group of tourists — a family, maybe American or European — laughing and trying to take selfies.

It was harmless until one of the deer got a little too close. The dad lightly pushed it away, not hard or mean, but enough to make it back off. Still, I noticed the local people nearby frowning, whispering. The air changed. It wasn’t violent or anything — but that tiny action fit the image that’s now floating around thanks to Takaichi’s story.

It’s moments like that where you realize how powerful one narrative can be. Suddenly, every foreigner in Japan has to work twice as hard to be seen as “respectful,” even when most already are.

At the same time, I don’t think Japan’s turning hostile. Not at all. There’s still so much kindness here — shopkeepers who go out of their way to help, old ladies who hand you an umbrella when it rains, neighbors who leave oranges at your door in winter. Japan can be deeply generous.

But lately, there’s been a shift — this subtle caution in the air, especially when politics brings “foreign behavior” into the spotlight.

I think what’s happening is that Japan’s facing a bit of an identity tug-of-war. It needs foreign workers, it wants tourism, it wants to be seen as global.

But it also fears losing its sense of cultural control. So, when a story like “foreigners kicking sacred deer” hits the headlines, it feeds into that fear — the idea that Japan’s uniqueness could be disrespected or diluted.

But here’s what I really believe: integration isn’t about perfection. It’s about empathy. It’s about understanding that both sides will make mistakes. Japanese people sometimes misunderstand foreigners, and foreigners sometimes misunderstand Japan.

That’s life. It doesn’t make anyone the villain.

I’ve been here for years, and yeah — I’ve messed up. I’ve walked into places without realizing I had to take off my shoes, or spoken too loudly on trains. I’ve also seen Japanese folks break their own rules. The point is, we’re all just trying to live together. We’re all learning.

So when Takaichi talks about being “firm” toward foreigners who misbehave, I hope she also remembers the other side — the countless foreigners who volunteer, who teach, who work long hours, who fall in love with Japan’s beauty and quirks. The ones who stay because they care.

If you’re living here, I’d love to hear your story. Have you ever felt that tension — that quiet sense of being judged? Or maybe you’ve had the opposite — a local who went out of their way to make you feel welcome? Send it in. Share it. Because that’s the Japan that deserves to be heard too.

Not the sound bites or the headlines, but the real, messy, human stuff.

We’re all sharing this island now — Japanese, foreigners, visitors, long-timers — trying to figure out how to coexist with grace. We’ll all stumble. But maybe if we talk about it honestly, without blame, we’ll all start to understand each other a little better.

And who knows — maybe one day, stories like the “deer kicking” one will fade away, replaced by something more hopeful. Something that says, “Yeah, we’re different — but we still belong here together.”

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