Benjamin Jowett once wrote, "The way to get things done is not to mind who gets the credit of doing them." This was the secret of Japanese Prime Minister Keizo Obuchi's success in Japan -- and succeed he did. Unfortunately, much of what Obuchi achieved for his nation may be undone by his successor, Yoshiro Mori, Japan's new rugby-loving prime minister who is the wrong man for the job.

Keizo Obuchi may have saved us all. In August 1998, when the Liberal Democratic Party chose him for its leader, Japan was fighting for economic survival. The Nikkei stock index hovered at 13,000 -- a level that pushed the majority of Japan's banks (all of which hold major stock investments -- a practice not permitted in the United States) into technical insolvency. Several major banks and securities firms failed and either closed their doors or were taken over by the government. Japan's citizens withdrew cash from financial institutions in record amounts, stuffing their yen into mattresses or home safes in order to avoid the risks of bank failure.

While Japan juggled more than a trillion dollars in bad debts and non-performing loans, yen hemorrhaged out of Japan and into foreign markets in search of higher and safer returns. To top off this economic nightmare, the global financial crisis -- that had shaken the entire Asian region then spread to Russia and subsequently to Latin America -- was only in its second act.

America's ruling financial triumvirate -- Federal Reserve Board Chairman Alan Greenspan, then-Treasury Secretary Robert Rubin, and current Treasury Secretary Lawrence Summers -- abandoned their customary circumspection and spoke emphatically and frequently that Japan's structural economic problems threatened the United States and the entire world financial system. Few seem to remember now, but Japan suffered daily front page news for months in the major media as American stock markets roiled and convulsed, fearful of Japan's inability to get its financial house in order.

Into this mess walked the lusterless Keizo Obuchi, in hindsight wrongly pilloried in the American press as incompetent and as "having all of the excitement of cold pizza." America demanded change and wanted leadership, a strong executive who would transform and reform Japan's corporate and financial sector, and who would make Japan more like America.

Obuchi was the antithesis of what America wanted, but it is to him that Japan and the rest of the world should be grateful. Obuchi responded to the crisis calmly, avoiding the theatrical flourish that most politicians exhibit when saving the day, and pushed forward a combination of enormous stimulus packages and reform programs. The programs did not restore full growth but in combination have produced vastly better results than the global economic implosion many had feared. While in office, he doggedly worked behind the scenes to build the sort of political consensus Japan needed to find its feet and feel confidence.

When Obuchi was first asked by members of the press about how he would fix the banking problem and restore Japanese citizens' confidence in their government and financial institutions, his performance was remarkable. This was not a man who read from a script of carefully crafted talking points, prepared in advance by bureaucrats from the Ministry of Finance. Instead, he smiled and loudly sucked air through his grinning teeth. Such a gesture is a kind of body language in Japan, indicating that something is muzukashii, or very difficult, a way of saying times are tough but something might work out if everyone pitched in and helped.

He then responded with: "I will do my very best, but I am not so smart when it comes to economic issues. That is why we need someone like (former Japanese Prime Minister) Miyazawa who really understands what is the best course for Japan's economy." The new prime minister shared the stage, a remarkable feat for a head of government -- and this Obuchi did over and over again, crisis after crisis. To his credit, Obuchi built stakeholders in his policies, many of which challenged and threatened the embedded interests that had long supported the governing party.

Obuchi has worked incrementally to deregulate Japan while at the same time flooding the economy with government spending projects. There are numerous criticisms one can pose about the content of his spending packages -- particularly pouring ever more money into concrete and corruption-riddled public works projects that don't generate the kind of growth other social investments might have made. But then again, against the potential of a full-blown economic meltdown, Obuchi did a great job.

The biggest tribute to him is that most people don't notice he is gone. At this writing, he lies near death, his life extended by respirator, but the Nikkei stock index is above 20,000 -- a key psychological bench mark in Japan's sense of self. There is some mourning and national reflection about him now, but the transition in leadership from Obuchi to Mori has been marked largely by an absence of crisis -- despite legitimate muttering that Japan ought to have a more transparent system for leadership transition. The process that led to Mori's selection seems hardly different than how the ruling Communist Party in China might one day choose a successor to Jiang Zemin. But clearly, Tokyo is calm -- and this is the most important measure of Obuchi's success as prime minister. Had Japan's senior executive collapsed during the economic convulsions nearly two years ago, we in America and people around the world might still have been feeling the impact.

Now there is a new man in town, Yoshiro Mori, a man who deserves far more scrutiny by the press than he is receiving, and probably the wrong man for the job at a time when Japan needs a new strong national architect. Whereas the international media greeted Obuchi with derision, the press welcomes Mori without a hint of concern. The media are not doing their homework. When markets were in spasms, Japan needed Obuchi's steady hand; now that Japan is calm, visionary leadership is called for.

Mori is not a man of ideas, and like Obuchi is a product of Japan's old order. He was one of 13 top legislators who received a great deal of stock from the fast-growing Recruit Company -- which tainted the careers of many senior Japanese government officials though Mori was never convicted. In the early 1990s, he was accused of accepting bribes from an oil wholesaler who reported giving him 10 million yen in cash. He is particularly close to the leadership of the Komeito, or Clean Government Party, a coalition partner to the Liberal Democratic Party. The Komeito has strong connections to the religious group, Sokka Gakkai, and itself has been both the subject of several major money and sex scandals. Politics is a complex sport and maintaining good relations with the Komeito may be good electoral strategy -- but Mori comes up short when it comes to addressing the major policy challenges that now lie ahead for Japan.

Obuchi, despite not looking like a leader and using all of the mechanisms and levers of old-style, back-room Japanese politics, led Japan forward. Despite his trademark modesty, he began to coax national pride and self-esteem out of the Japanese public by officially adopting Japan's flag and national anthem as symbols of the state -- two important icons that had no official status since the end of World War II. And without publicly complaining about America's overbearing nature in the post-Cold War era, he recognized that Japan's sense of sovereignty is diminished if America's is constantly dominant.

Okinawa has been at the forefront of Japan's symbolic love-hate struggle with its U.S. protectors. Recently, Obuchi secured a rollback of American control of Okinawa's airspace, 80 percent of which the Americans have controlled for five and one-half decades. In addition, he encouraged debate in the Diet about a decline in Japan's host nation contributions to the U.S. military. And finally, his deft but subtle political skills were evident when Obuchi ignored Pentagon concerns and decided to host the July 2000 G8 Leaders Meeting in Okinawa where world leaders will see what living next to 39 separate military installations on a small island feels like.

Obuchi had the veneer of working within and protecting the status quo. But actually, he will be remembered as an important leader who moved Japan forward while giving everyone else the credit. At first glance, even at second, Mori appears primed to be a self-promoting protector of the status quo -- which Obuchi turned out not to be.