As Shinzo Abe’s speechwriter, I had the privilege of spending countless hours talking with the late prime minister — and musing about what was on his mind so I can grasp his ideas, vision and worldview to help communicate them to the people of Japan and to the world.

Abe was a globe-trotter in the truest sense.

With Abe aboard, the Japanese government aircraft flew 1,581,281 kilometers — almost 40 times the circumference of the equator. He visited a total of 176 countries and forged bonds with three successive leaders of the United States, Australia and Britain; two prime ministers of India; as well as strongmen such as Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan and then Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu — the list goes on.

He accomplished this in spite of Tokyo’s spartan political schedule. According to a study, then-British Prime Minister David Cameron spent less than 50 hours on the front bench of the Parliament during the parliamentary session between 2015 and 2016. In contrast, Abe spent almost 370 hours in the same year. To do that, Abe had to use almost all weekends to travel abroad with almost no time off.

Abe took on such a brutal travel schedule out of strategic reasons. He wanted to expand Japan’s diplomatic horizon and invest in relations with democratic allies and partners with the belief that only by uplifting Japan’s international status could Japan defend itself from the coercive behaviors from its neighbors: Russia, North Korea and China — all of which are nuclear powers, with none of them even closely resembling an open democracy.

One frequently asked question about the late Japanese prime minister was this: “Why did Abe choose to get that close to Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin?”

The answer about the latter leader also solves the one with the former. Since the end of World War II, Moscow and Tokyo have yet to sign a peace treaty. By doing so, Abe thought that Japan could reduce the military tension to its north from Russia. For Japan to seek that path and to stand tall in arguably the most dangerous geopolitical setting in the world, he believed that it is the duty of a Japanese prime minister to build the best possible rapport with whoever happens to be the president of the United States.

He accomplished the latter adeptly and strengthened the U.S.-Japan alliance, yet failed on his mission to resolve the outstanding issues in the northern front with Russia. With Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, the situation has gotten worse. For the first time in Japanese history, Japan must now confront military threats from three fronts all at the same time, which reinforces the importance of Japan building robust alliance ties with the United States and deepening quasi-alliances with like-minded democratic nations such as Australia and India, to name only two.

The list of Abe’s diplomatic accomplishments is long. Former Australian Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull has stated that without Abe, the Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership (CPTPP) could not have taken effect. This resulted in a bandwagon effect, which accelerated the completion of another mega deal, the EU-Japan Economic Partnership Agreement — one of history’s farthest-reaching economic partnerships ever forged between two democratic economies.

To countering China’s neo-imperialistic Belt and Road initiative, which effectively led Sri Lanka to bankruptcy due to its debt trap, Tokyo, under Abe, led the Group of Seven to successfully market a new brand of quality infrastructure.

Then-Prime Minister Shinzo Abe addresses a joint session of the U.S. Congress in Washington on April 29, 2015. | STEPHEN CROWLEY / THE NEW YORK TIMES
Then-Prime Minister Shinzo Abe addresses a joint session of the U.S. Congress in Washington on April 29, 2015. | STEPHEN CROWLEY / THE NEW YORK TIMES

Abe’s views on China now have a wider base of support in the U.S., the U.K. and even in Germany — countries that have long preferred engagement with the authoritarian country out of economic reasons. His ideas of a “Free and Open Indo-Pacific” strategy and “the Quad” framework have both entered the political lexicon in many capitals around the world.

Identity politics, in most cases, is often about narrow-minded nationalism and anti-globalization. Abe had a different kind of identity politics — one centered around unwavering democratic values — that led Japan in the opposite direction.

Japan is, and will always be, a maritime trading nation that sits on the periphery of the vast land mass — which is currently dominated by undemocratic, militarist powers.

What else could Japan do — Abe questioned — but to anchor itself even more firmly with seafaring democracies such as the United States, Australia and India?

Japan’s democracy, after many generations, is a mature one, of which institutions undergo constant improvement. Abe repeated countless times that Japan must hoist its banner as a nation that upholds values of freedom, democracy, human rights and the rule of law — now and forever.

His brand of identity politics was therefore based both on his own ideals and realist views that he lived with until the tragic end of his 67 years of life.

Abe also thought that with greater exposure to challenges, competition and ideas from abroad, Japan’s young generations will be better prepared to take risks to bolster the country’s entrepreneurial spirit, which has been dormant for so many years.

Abenomics 2.0, launched in 2016, was designed to rewrite the country’s social contract by shifting budgetary resources from the elderly to the young. Abe lowered the voting age from 20 to 18 to encourage the country’s youth to participate in politics, for he knew how forbiddingly difficult it is to wean vested interests from the old generation.

The younger generation heard his intent. The fact that there were more supporters of him among the 20s and 30s than Japan’s baby boomer generation attests to that. His attempt to redistribute resources between generations may have ended midway, but many should long remember that Abe tackled some of the most deep-seated problems that hamper the nation’s progress.

Abe recognized that in a nation scarce in commodities and resources, the most precious element in this country is the people’s mindset to expect a brighter future — or, in a word, hope. He also knew that Japan, with an aging population, could only grow when young people can have hope for the future and be reciprocated for that.

He wanted women to be more ambitious so they could shake up Japan’s male-dominated, seniority-based system. Under his watch, the country saw female participation in the labor market outpacing that of the United States. It is also important to add that the first class of female submarine officers entered service with the nation’s navy.

I was privileged to serve Abe, and to imagine what he would be thinking. My moments of musing did not stop with Abe’s worldview. I wondered what Abe thought of an artist, singer or an athlete that caught my eye. While watching a Netflix drama with my wife, I imagined what he and his beloved wife, Akie, may have said to each other viewing the same drama.

Could I possibly stop imagining what Abe thought, which has become second nature to me? I know one thing: The void Abe left is simply unfillable.

Tomohiko Taniguchi served for eight-plus years as former Prime Minister Shinzo Abe’s foreign policy speechwriter in both Japanese and English. He is currently a professor at Keio University’s Graduate School of System Design and Management.