When people talk about religion and politics in Japan, they often call the country “secular” or even “atheist.” Surveys back this up. Around 70 percent of Japanese people describe themselves as mushūkyō (non-religious).
Yet this reflects a gap in definitions, not an absence of practice.
The concept behind the word shūkyō was imported from the West in the 19th century, tied to churches and doctrine. In Japan, religion is lived more through practice than formal affiliation. New Year shrine visits, Buddhist funerals, and local festivals remain widespread. What looks secular is often ritual by another name.
Politics offers another counter to the “Japan is atheist” claim. Even after WWII, religious groups played a role in democracy. They mobilized votes, backed political allies, and shaped constitutional debates. Let’s take a closer look at their sometimes stabilizing, sometimes even controversial influence on Japanese politics.
For background on Japan’s political parties and the issues they champion, read Japan’s Political Parties Explained: Who They Are, What They Stand For first.
Historical background
The Meiji era was defined by rapid modernization. With the rise of State Shintō and its separation from Buddhism, religion became less personal faith and more an ideology of state power.
Less than a century later, Japan was at war. After WWII, the Allied Occupation linked State Shintō to militarism and banned it. In 1947, the new Constitution reshaped the relationship between politics and belief. Article 20 guaranteed freedom of religion but barred religious groups from political authority. Article 89 forbade the state from funding religious activities. These rules aimed to prevent a return to emperor worship and forced ideology.
This is often where popular understanding of religion and politics in Japan stops. Yet religion and politics in Japan did not end with the Occupation. Religious groups remained free to organize as citizens, and their beliefs shaped how they mobilized and voted.
From the 1950s onward, Japan’s “new religions” built strong political networks. Groups like Sōka Gakkai and Risshō Kōsei-kai became reliable voting blocs and lobbying partners, especially for the LDP.
On paper, the state is secular. But in practice, religion still weaves itself tightly throughout Japan’s democratic process.
Kōmeitō and Sōka Gakkai
No religious organization has shaped postwar Japanese politics more than Sōka Gakkai. Founded as a lay Buddhist movement rooted in Nichiren’s teachings, the group expanded rapidly in the 1950s and 1960s. It gained millions of followers through active proselytizing, community support, and promises of worldly benefits.
Nichiren Buddhism has long tied faith to social mission. Nichiren himself actually argued in the 13th century that Japan’s safety depended on belief, and that only devotion to the Lotus Sutra could protect the nation. Sōka Gakkai drew on this legacy, recasting it for the modern era as a movement of ordinary people building both personal fortune and collective security.
In 1964, Sōka Gakkai founded Kōmeitō as its political arm. The new party claimed to represent ordinary citizens, especially those outside Japan’s traditional elite. Over time, it became known for pacifism, social welfare, and education reform. These priorities reflected both Nichiren Buddhist ideals and the concerns of its largely urban, working- and middle-class supporters.
During the Cold War, Kōmeitō often competed with the ruling Liberal Democratic Party (LDP). By the 1990s, however, reforms and realignments reshaped the political map. In 1999, Kōmeitō entered a coalition with the LDP, a partnership that continues to this day.
This alliance has been vital for the LDP. Sōka Gakkai’s disciplined vote-gathering can deliver 10,000 to 20,000 ballots per district, often enough to tip a close race. Without this bloc, the LDP would have struggled to maintain Diet majorities for the past 25 years.
The relationship remains controversial. Critics say Kōmeitō blurs the constitutional line between religion and politics, since its base depends on Sōka Gakkai members. Kōmeitō counters that the two formally separated in 1970 and that its finances are independently audited.
On its website, the party compares Sōka Gakkai’s support to labor unions or trade associations endorsing candidates. Courts and governments have upheld this view, ruling that the alliance does not violate Article 20 of the Constitution.
Jinja Honchō
The most influential body in Shintō today is Jinja Honchō (the Association of Shintō Shrines), which coordinates about 80,000 shrines nationwide. Despite this, it’s important not to mistake Jinja Honchō for a Shintō equivalent of the Vatican.
Unlike Catholicism, Shintō has no central authority or binding doctrine. Local shrines operate autonomously. Jinja Honchō’s role is mainly administrative, standardizing priest training, maintaining records, and serving as a national representative.
Through its political wing, the Shintō Association of Spiritual Leadership (SAS, or Shintō Seiji Renmei), Jinja Honchō lobbies for conservative causes such as constitutional revision, moral education, and support for Yasukuni Shrine. Unlike Sōka Gakkai, whose centralized membership feeds directly into Kōmeitō’s electoral machine, Shintō politics exert influence through looser lobbying networks inside the LDP.
One of the most important of these networks is Nippon Kaigi (Japan Conference). Many priests active in Jinja Honchō or SAS also hold leadership roles in Nippon Kaigi, which calls itself Japan’s largest conservative nationalist organization. It unites Shintō clergy with sympathetic politicians, academics, and business leaders.
The group has been especially influential in the LDP’s right wing, where many cabinet ministers and prime ministers count as members or supporters. Nippon Kaigi amplifies the agenda of Shintō conservatives by embedding it directly in government.
Jinja Honchō has made its conservative influence felt in politics. One case we covered on UJ was a conference the organization hosted at which an anti-LGBTQ pamphlet was circulated. Numerous shrines have defected from the Association in recent years over its political stances and internal corruption.
At the populist end of the spectrum is Sanseitō, a new party founded in 2020. Branding itself as anti-establishment, Sanseitō appeals to voters disillusioned with mainstream politics. Its platform blends conservative themes with Shintō revivalist nationalism, including open calls to restore the Emperor’s status as a living god (arahitogami). This rhetoric echoes prewar ideology dismantled under the Occupation, but reframes it as cultural pride and spiritual renewal. The party also promotes conspiracy-tinged positions on vaccines, globalization, and education.
Though still small in Diet representation, Sanseitō has gained attention through savvy online campaigning, especially on YouTube and social media. Its rise shows how religious symbolism tied to the Emperor can still be mobilized in modern politics. Where Jinja Honchō and Nippon Kaigi influence through elite networks, Sanseitō demonstrates how Shintō-inflected ideology can be rebranded as grassroots populism for the 21st century.
Other new religions and political experiments
Not all religious organizations in Japan have the scale of Sōka Gakkai or the political reach of Jinja Honchō. Many postwar “new religions” experimented with politics, with mixed results.
Risshō Kōsei-kai, a large lay Buddhist group rooted in Nichiren Buddhism, backed the Democratic Socialist Party in the 1960s and 1970s. Its members provided reliable votes, much like Sōka Gakkai did for Kōmeitō, but on a smaller scale. In recent decades, Kōsei-kai has stepped back from elections, turning instead to peace activism and interfaith dialogue.
Groups such as Reiyūkai and its many offshoots have stayed active in local politics. They often rally behind specific municipal candidates, giving them quiet but steady influence in their communities.
Happy Science (Kōfuku no Kagaku) has taken a louder path. In 2009, it founded the Happiness Realization Party, blending “spiritual science” with outspoken nationalism and calls for rearmament. Founder Ōkawa Ryūhō became notorious for “spiritual interviews,” books he claimed to write through channeling figures from world history. These ranged from Jesus and Freddie Mercury to living politicians like Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin.
The movement promoted itself with glossy PR videos, anime films, and flashy mass rallies that looked more like pop concerts than religious gatherings. On some issues, the party struck a progressive note, such as calling for more foreign workers. But its denial of the Nanjing Massacre and demand to expel China from the UN Security Council put it firmly on Japan’s far right.
Progressive Buddhist influence
Not all religious politics in Japan lean conservative. Several Buddhist sects and civil society groups have taken progressive stances, often serving as a counterweight to Shintō nationalism.
Jōdo Shinshū Honganji, Japan’s largest Buddhist denomination, has been especially active. Its temples and affiliated groups have supported movements to protect Article 9 of the Constitution, which renounces war. They have also joined anti-nuclear protests, including annual marches in Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Other Buddhist networks engage in peace education, human rights advocacy, and disaster relief. After the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami, Honganji-affiliated volunteers mobilized nationwide to provide aid. While less visible than Sōka Gakkai or Jinja Honchō, these efforts show how religious institutions can and do actually mobilize for progressive causes.
The Unification Church and the LDP
The Unification Church, founded in South Korea in 1954, expanded into Japan in the 1960s. It became notorious for “spiritual sales,” in which members pressured people into buying overpriced religious items, and for staging mass weddings.
During the Cold War, the church shared a strong anti-communist stance with Japan’s conservative politicians. This opened the door to close ties with the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP). For decades, Unification Church members volunteered for campaigns, mobilized voters, and provided grassroots support to LDP lawmakers.
The church’s influence has extended beyond Japan. It has staged large-scale political events abroad, including appearances in the U.S. Congress, where sympathetic lawmakers praised its founder, Sun Myung Moon. These international connections reinforced its image as a political actor rather than a purely religious movement.
In Japan, those ties exploded into public view in 2022, when former Prime Minister Abe Shinzō was assassinated. His killer said he targeted Abe because of his connection to the church, which he blamed for his family’s financial ruin.
The fallout was severe. Media investigations revealed deep and long-standing ties between the LDP and the Unification Church. Public opinion turned sharply against such relationships; polls showed more than 80% of Japanese disapproved of religion–politics ties.
The Kishida government responded by tightening rules on religious donations and moving to dissolve the church under the Religious Corporations Act. While legal proceedings continue, the scandal left a lasting mark on public trust in Japan’s political system.
Public attitudes and recent trends
Most Japanese continue to identify as nonreligious. Yet family ties, community networks, and connections to local shrines mean religion can still sway elections behind the scenes.
The 2022 Unification Church scandal deepened public skepticism toward political–religious ties. Polls show overwhelming opposition to close relationships between lawmakers and religious groups.
Looking ahead, several questions remain. Will Kōmeitō’s disciplined voting bloc weaken as younger Sōka Gakkai members drift away from active practice? Will Sanseitō or other populist groups gain traction by mixing spiritual themes with anti-establishment politics? And will the government take further steps to regulate or even dissolve religious organizations with strong political arms?
These unresolved questions will shape the next chapter of religion’s role in Japanese democracy.
Religion’s persistent power in democracy
Religion in Japan’s politics takes many forms. Some groups build direct political parties, like Kōmeitō and Sōka Gakkai. Others act as ideological lobbies, such as Jinja Honchō and Nippon Kaigi. Populist revivalists such as Sanseitō push Shintō-inflected nationalism to new audiences, while hidden networks such as the Unification Church reveal the risks of unacknowledged ties.
Despite Japan’s constitutional secularism, religion remains a powerful, if often overlooked, thread in Japanese democracy. What looks like a “secular” society from the outside is, in practice, one where ritual, faith, and belief continue to shape the political sphere.
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