Japan is mourning the passing of Tomiichi Murayama, the country’s former prime minister whose legacy is inseparable from his landmark 1995 apology for Japan’s wartime aggression. Murayama, who died of old age on October 17, 2025, at a hospital in his hometown of Oita at the remarkable age of 101, leaves behind a complex and consequential political history that continues to echo across Asia and beyond. According to a statement by Mizuho Fukushima, head of Japan’s Social Democratic Party, Murayama’s death marks the end of an era for Japanese politics, closing the chapter on a statesman who both embodied and challenged his nation’s postwar identity.
Born on March 3, 1924, in Oita Prefecture, Murayama’s early life was shaped by hardship and the turbulence of wartime Japan. He moved to Tokyo in 1938, working his way through commercial high school at night before being drafted into the Japanese Imperial Army in 1944. As reported by AFP, Murayama later described the military as a “dreadful thing,” recounting in a 2015 interview with NHK that "rebellion or argument was absolutely forbidden." Food was scarce, weapons were few, and, as he put it, "We had weapons made of bamboo. I wondered if we could wage war in this condition."
After the war, Murayama graduated from Meiji University in 1946 and began his career in labor activism, eventually serving as secretary-general of a fisheries cooperative. His political journey took him from a prefectural assembly seat in Oita to the national stage, where he was first elected to the Lower House in 1972 as a socialist lawmaker. By 1993, he had become chairman of the Japan Socialist Party, leading his party through a period of pro-reform coalitions after the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) suffered a historic electoral defeat.
Murayama’s ascent to the premiership in June 1994 was nothing short of extraordinary. He led a coalition government that included the LDP—Japan’s dominant postwar political force—and the Socialists, parties that had been fierce rivals for decades. As Reuters noted, this “unwieldy socialist-conservative coalition” was a testament to the shifting political landscape of the 1990s. Murayama’s bushy eyebrows became a visual trademark, but it was his moral clarity and willingness to confront Japan’s past that defined his tenure.
The defining moment of Murayama’s career came on August 15, 1995, the 50th anniversary of Japan’s unconditional surrender in World War II. In a nationally televised address, Murayama delivered what would become known as the “Murayama statement,” expressing unprecedented remorse for Japan’s wartime actions. As NPR recounts, he declared, "During a certain period in the not too distant past, Japan, following a mistaken national policy, advanced along the road to war ... and, through its colonial rule and aggression, caused tremendous damage and suffering to the people of many countries, particularly to those of Asian nations." He continued, "In the hope that no such mistake be made in the future, I regard, in a spirit of humility, these irrefutable facts of history, and express here once again my feelings of deep remorse and state my heartfelt apology."
This statement, with its phrases “deep remorse” and “heartfelt apology,” set a new standard for Japanese leaders. According to France24, the language became a benchmark for subsequent apologies by Japanese prime ministers, especially on the 60th and 70th anniversaries of the war’s end. The apology was widely welcomed by the United States, South Korea, China, and other nations that had suffered under Japanese occupation and aggression. Yet, it also stirred controversy at home, with some conservatives arguing that repeated apologies undermined national pride.
Murayama’s time as prime minister was marked by crisis and tragedy. In January 1995, the Great Hanshin Earthquake devastated Kobe and the surrounding region, killing more than 6,400 people. That same year, the Aum Shinrikyo doomsday cult carried out a sarin gas attack on the Tokyo subway, killing 13 and injuring more than 6,000. As reported by The Japan Times and NPR, Murayama faced criticism for what some saw as a sluggish government response to both disasters. Nevertheless, his leadership during these emergencies—and his efforts to address longstanding issues like Minamata disease, a large-scale mercury poisoning incident in Kumamoto Prefecture—earned him respect for championing "people-centered politics," as current Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba noted in a statement.
Murayama’s approach to defense policy also broke new ground. Despite his party’s traditional opposition to the Japan-U.S. security alliance and the Self-Defense Forces, he recognized their constitutionality in a speech delivered amid vocal opposition from his own ranks. This pragmatic stance reflected his broader commitment to reconciliation and realism in a rapidly changing world.
After resigning in early 1996—an announcement that reportedly came to him while "looking at the blue sky in the new year"—Murayama retired from active politics in 2000. Yet, he continued to speak out, especially as nationalist sentiment gained ground in Japan. He was a vocal critic of successors who sought to downplay or reverse Japan’s wartime guilt. As reported by NPR, Murayama insisted in 2020, "A historical view saying Japan's war was not aggression, or calling it justice or liberation from colonialism, is absolutely unacceptable not only in China, South Korea or other Asian countries but also in America and Europe."
Murayama also emphasized the importance of building lasting peace and friendship in Asia. On the 25th anniversary of his statement, he wrote, "It goes without saying that it is extremely important for Japan to maintain and build a long-lasting, friendly relationship of peace and prosperity with China, which suffered great damage in the past war of aggression." He believed that true reconciliation required stable politics, economic cooperation, and cultural exchange—a vision that remains relevant as Japan continues to navigate its relationships with neighbors still haunted by history.
The “Murayama statement” remained the gold standard for nearly two decades, until Prime Minister Shinzo Abe and his LDP allies took a less apologetic tone, arguing that repeated contrition weakened Japan’s national pride. This shift aggravated relations with China and South Korea, highlighting the enduring sensitivity of wartime memory in East Asia.
In his later years, Murayama lived modestly in Oita, cycling to stay fit and maintaining his reputation for humility and candor. He was, as Fukushima put it, “the father of Japanese politics,” a leader whose willingness to confront uncomfortable truths set him apart. His death has prompted reflection not only on his achievements but on the unfinished work of reconciliation and remembrance that he championed.
The passing of Tomiichi Murayama is a reminder that history’s wounds can only begin to heal when leaders have the courage to face them head-on. His legacy endures in the words of apology that continue to shape Japan’s place in the world—and in the hope that such mistakes, as he put it, "be made no more."