In the October issue of Sound Argument, Takeshi Nishibe offers a fundamental rethinking of constitutionalism grounded in history, tradition, and national sovereignty.
It is an essay that both the Japanese people and readers around the world ought to read.

2016-10-08
It goes without saying that this is an essay that all Japanese citizens and people around the world must read.
What follows is also an excerpt from a serialized essay by Takeshi Nishibe in the October issue of Sound Argument.

It goes without saying that this is an essay that all Japanese citizens and people around the world must read.

Emphasis within the text is mine.

Introductory passages omitted.

This old man, perhaps back when he was still in his prime at the university, once boasted, “American youngsters who know neither the Japanese language nor Japanese history nor the national sentiments of the Japanese people, and who are not even constitutional experts—no matter if twenty-four of them gather—can dash off a constitution in less than a week (using the American ‘Declaration of Independence’ as a model). I could write all the necessary revisions in a single night, and if I could not, I would be unfit to call myself a Japanese intellectual.”

Then, the very next day, an editor from Bungeishunju who had been present asked him, “Even if it takes not just one night but three, please write a complete set of constitutional revisions.”

More than a quarter of a century has passed since he actually did so, yet this old man’s view of the constitution has been maintained almost exactly in the form it had at that time.

Let it be said in advance that this man does not have any special attachment to the Constitution of Japan as such.

As one of the conservatives, he believes that a constitution as unwritten (customary) law is preferable to a written (enacted) law, and therefore he sides not so much with constitutional revision as with constitutional abolition.

Since a constitution is the fundamental norm of “the people and their government,” if one simply understands that this fundamental norm is something cultivated by the history of one’s own country, then—as in the case of Britain—it is sufficient to limit oneself to the “designation of basic constitutional historical documents,” and thereafter to “decide all matters through public deliberation (in parliament and the world of discourse)” (“The Charter Oath”). This is this man’s true intention.

To put it more cautiously, it cannot necessarily be concluded that reaffirming the fundamental norms of the state as common sense among the people through a written enacted law is a bad thing.

What the old man wishes to say is nothing more than this: before taking the term “constitutionalism” out of the soot-covered archives of the Meiji and Taisho eras and hanging it at the entrance of the modern Japanese state, one should first debate “the merits and demerits of the present constitution” in order to “stand upon a good constitution.”

Interpreting the current constitution, first, when it states that “sovereignty resides in the people” (Preamble, Paragraph 1), sovereign power has no transcendental meaning such as “sovereignty’s sublimity”; it should be understood merely as the mundane right of “final decision-making authority” over domestic and foreign policy.

And since “the people” exist because “the nation is formed upon the flow of history,” it is best understood as “the totality of the people throughout history,” and thus the sovereignty of the people should properly be regarded as “the spirit of tradition brought forth by history.”

Second, the phrase “trusting in the justice and faith of the peace-loving peoples (the Allied Powers) to preserve our security and survival” (Preamble, Paragraph 2) cannot be relied upon, given that the “justice and faith” of the Allied Powers (after the war, the “United Nations” and its “Security Council”) are not worthy of trust. Therefore, Japan’s “security and survival” can only be ensured by “maintaining its own national defense capabilities while giving due consideration to the United Nations.”

Incidentally, what Japan truly ought to value is “self-respect and independence,” and “security and survival” should be regarded as the means toward that end.

Unless one sees it this way, it becomes impossible to reject the notion of the “security and survival of slaves.”

Third, even if it is said that “the laws of political morality are universal” (Preamble, Paragraph 3), the “particular” manifestations of those laws depend on each nation’s history and circumstances.
Some say that “a constitution speaks of ideals,” but that applies only to a historical stage in which democracy was immature (in other words, an era in which despotic politics prevailed).

A constitution gives the state a norm as a “balance between ideals and reality,” and constitutions are born from “looking far ahead toward universal morality while thoroughly examining the particular national circumstances at hand.”

To be continued.