A new era has dawned. The Japanese government has announced that the name of the reign ( gengo ) of Japan’s next emperor Naruhito will be “Reiwa” (auspicious calm), a term that draws on the 8th century Japanese classical poetry anthology Manyoshu (collection of myriad leaves). This is the first time a gengo has not been based on Chinese sources. According to Prime Minister Shinzo Abe, the word reiwa “implies the people’s hearts coming together in beauty to create and develop culture”. Yes, but it is also infused with revisionist mischief. In explaining the choice and meaning of the gengo , Abe engaged in some dog-whistling to his conservative constituency, extolling Japan’s glorious cultural heritage, natural beauty and proud history. Moreover, by referencing a distinctively Japanese literary work, Abe has infused the gengo with nationalist pride at a time of geopolitical rivalry and a power-shift in China’s favour. There is also an authoritarian implication in the character “ rei ”, which could mean “command” or “decree”, while “ wa ” is also the second character in “Showa”, the era marked by Japanese militarism, particularly in Asia. Invoking that period in the new gengo is consistent with Abe’s ongoing efforts to rehabilitate a militant chapter of Japan’s history. My informal survey at a Tokyo sushi bar yielded little enthusiasm for Reiwa, with comments ranging from “strange” to “who cares?” The current Heisei era (1989-2019), meaning “achieving peace”, will end when Emperor Akihito abdicates on April 30. His father Hirohito ruled during the rather more tumultuous Showa era (1926-89) of “enlightened peace”. The change in gengo will cause a degree of calendrical confusion as computer systems and various official documents, driver’s licences and newspapers are brought into line, jumping from Heisei 31 to Reiwa 1 midyear at a time when the nation is enjoying a record 10-day “golden week” holiday. Had the abdication been postponed until 2020, it would have been easier to sync the new era with the ubiquitous Gregorian calendar, but Akihito is frail and has waited since 2016 when he signalled his desire to step down in a televised address, emphasising his health problems and the desire not to inconvenience the nation. Emperor Akihito takes exception to ‘just performing imperial rituals’ Akihito’s 2016 speech was something of a bombshell since the only other time he directly addressed the nation on television was to reassure the public and offer encouragement following the tsunami and nuclear reactor meltdown in March 2011. Given his famously frosty relations with Prime Minister Abe and their divergent views on history and constitutional revision , there was speculation that the emperor had timed his announcement to slow moves towards the latter. It was a remarkable speech that underscored what a punishing schedule the octogenarian maintained and his strong sense of duty to the Japanese people and the monarchy he represents. There has been a sustained outpouring of public appreciation for all he has done over three decades. Akihito is greatly admired as the nation’s chief emissary of reconciliation in Asia and as the consoler-in-chief at home, visiting those displaced by natural disasters and offering moral encouragement to the marginalised in society. He invented these roles and greatly expanded royal duties as he attended to the unfinished business of the Showa era. He connected with the people in ways that his aloof father never could have and has done more than all of Japan’s political leaders combined to heal lingering post-war wounds. He has managed to work within the constitutional constraints that bar him from politics to intervene subtly in the politics of the past. While those constraints preclude forthright remarks, he has effectively conveyed the nation’s regret for the misdeeds Japan committed under the guise of pan-Asian liberation. In serving as the conscience of Japan, defying the denialists and showing compassion to those victimised by the war waged in his father’s name, Akihito gained unquestioned moral authority. But a tectonic shift in Japan’s official war memory in the 21st century rendered Akihito an inadvertent symbol of opposition to the revisionist’s selective amnesia . He has remained steadfast in contrition while the political elite has lurched rightward. Top priest at Japan’s Yasukuni Shrine to quit after criticising emperor Making way for Crown Prince Naruhito will allow a younger and more vigorous monarch to carry on in his footsteps. Oxford-educated Naruhito has a hard act to follow, but all indications are, no doubt to the dismay of conservatives, that he shares his father’s sense of mission and liberal outlook. But can he connect with the public and keep the monarchy relevant as Akihito did? Inevitably Naruhito will be compared to his father and it will be difficult to emerge from such an imposing shadow, something Akihito never had to contend with given Hirohito’s awkward and reserved manner. With the wartime generation fading fast from the scene, coupled with heightened regional tensions, the circumstances are not nearly as propitious for promoting Akihito’s agenda of pacifism and reconciliation over the sanctimonious nationalism that now prevails among Japan’s governing elite. Jeff Kingston is director of Asian Studies at Temple University Japan and author of Japan