Osaka Mayor's Radical Message Has Broad Appeal With Japanese OSAKA, Japan - It took more than six decades, including nearly 20 years of economic stagnation, to persuade Japan's change-averse voters to kick out the governing party long enough to move to a true two-party democracy in 2009. Now, just three years later, many voters have embraced a largely unknown new party led by a brash young leader who promises a drastic overhaul of the government. That party, the Japan Restoration Association, was formally inaugurated this month by its sharp-tongued leader, the mayor of Osaka, Toru Hashimoto. The boyish-faced 43-year-old former television commentator came out of nowhere four years ago to electrify this gritty business city with his very un-Japanese, in-your-face style - and his ability to do what few national leaders have seemed able to: push through painful changes. Mr. Hashimoto battled labor unions to slash deficit-ridden budgets and impose performance requirements on schoolteachers. Now, he is taking his antiestablishment insurgency to the national stage, naming about 350 candidates, most of them political neophytes trained at Mr. Hashimoto's own political "cram school," to run in parliamentary elections expected as soon as November. His charisma has made the group a feared force in Japanese politics, seemingly overnight. Polls show that the party, formally begun as a national movement just two weeks ago, has become the No. 2 party, polling behind the largest opposition party, but ahead of the governing party. And it is a close enough race that some analysts give Mr. Hashimoto's group a chance of pulling ahead. Beyond Mr. Hashimoto's personal appeal, his rise reflects the desire for bolder change in a nation anxious over its chronic economic drift and fed up with a lack of leadership by the two main political parties, according to political analysts and lawmakers. His ascent is also the most potent evidence yet that last year's nuclear disaster at the Fukushima Daiichi plant is leading to some fundamental rethinking of the country's priorities, at least among ordinary Japanese who no longer trust the closely knit political elite. This new distrust reached a climax with Prime Minister Yoshihiko Noda's unpopular decision over the summer to restart a nuclear plant, a move opposed by many Japanese as an effort to go back to the pre-Fukushima status quo. Mr. Hashimoto was a leading voice early on for overhauling the nation's insider-driven nuclear watchdog agencies. "Mr. Hashimoto has appeared at a time when discontent at Japan's collusive politics is building" toward an eruption, said Katsuhito Yokokume, a lawmaker from Tokyo who quit the governing Democratic Party last year and wants to join Mr. Hashimoto. The people feel betrayed by established political parties. The changes Mr. Hashimoto proposes would be nothing short of radical: to dismantle Japan's heavily centralized government, once seen as its strength but now viewed as thwarting reform. His party aims to replace what exists with an American-style federalism in which newly created states would hold greater control over their regions. The party also wants voters to directly choose the prime minister, who is now selected by Parliament. Analysts say that for his party to win in parliamentary elections, Mr. Hashimoto will have to overcome deep misgivings that many Japanese feel with his take-no-prisoners style, and provocatively right-wing remarks. But perhaps as important, he might have to join the race himself. So far, he has said he would not run for a parliamentary seat, precluding his ability to become prime minister. He explained that he had not yet made good on all his campaign promises in Osaka, though many analysts still expect him to change his mind. They say, however, that the party has recently lost some momentum because of his stance.