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One of the first things knowing Japanese noticed was that Premier Yonai hailed from Iwate Province. Only two Iwate men before him rose to the Premiership. Both died at the hands of assassins. But neither public surprise nor superstition dampened Mitsumasa Yonai's confidence. He felt sure that by inventing a few metaphors neat as chopsticks, by continuing to mouth nebulous phrases about the New Order and completion of the China Incident (taking steps meanwhile to prolong it), by playing ball with the Army—in short, by emulating most of his recent predecessors—he would make as good a Premier as the next fellow.
All that was six weeks ago. Not until last week did Premier Yonai see the immense inadequacy of that first estimate, realize that he had stepped parachuteless off a precipice into an utterly new, bitterly abysmal Japan.
Three Legs. His first press conference was prophetic. He swaggered in with a tricky metaphor on the tip of his tongue: Japan today is a tripod, whose legs are "disposal of the China Incident, international questions, and domestic problems. . . . A tripod cannot be stable unless all three legs are in position. . . ." He ended up having confessed he had no specific plans to end the war, no idea when the Wang Ching-wei puppetry could be set up, no more definite formula than "elimination of the causes of trouble" in clearing up the tangle of foreign relations, no economic nostrums or even knowledge ("I do not know the proper use of the terms 'controlled economy' and 'economic control' "), no ideas about the budget.
But journalistic embarrassments did not discourage Mitsumasa Yonai. He waded out into the public ring slugging. His first speech before the Diet was a huge success. He said nothing, and said it briefly, elegantly, forcefully. He was not worried about financial matters because he had achieved the major political triumph of persuading former Finance Minister Sotaro Ishiwata to demean himself to be the Premier's own secretary; nor about military matters because the Emperor had taken the spectacular, unprecedented step of calling in General Hata to bid the Army obey the Cabinet.
Last week Premier Yonai still had his confidence and his office. Because of the former he could probably keep the latter. But the Japan he had inherited, and the three-legged stability he had promised for it, had deteriorated in four dizzy weeks into something very close to chaos.
Two of the legs of Premier Yonai's tripod were no more wobbly than usual. In its own sphere, the military was still effective. The Army could still announce an objective, go and get it over dead Chinese bodies, and then retire into garrison.
Under experienced Foreign Minister Hachiro Arita, foreign relations were actually picking up a little. The danger of an immediate U. S. embargo was past, and Japan was successfully finding new markets and sources in South America. Last week a new trade treaty with Uruguay was approved, an Argentine economic mission reached Tokyo for discussions, and Mexico, Peru, Colombia and Venezuela were on the docket for similar explorations.