To arm or not to arm...: rethinking the constitution.

Despite Japan's reputed aversion to military matters, its troops have slowly but steadily been built up so that they now constitute one of the world's ten strongest armed forces. The reality of postwar Japan has been that, while leaving its American-imposed "peace" constitution intact and publicly adhering to the idea of an unarmed country, the government of the ruling Liberal Democratic party (LDP) has, in fact, been overseeing a gradual transition to a significantly armed nation with looser interpretations of the 1947 constitution.

Japanese militarism and the quest for imperial expansion that led to World War II failed so completely that the Japanese enthusiastically embraced the concept of pacifism, by which they understand a world in which military power plays no role in domestic and foreign affairs. This "passive pacifism," along with Japan's postwar constitution, offered a defeated Japan under the leadership of Prime Minister Shigeru Yoshida (1946-47, 1948-52), the opportunity to limit political commitments abroad so that it could devote itself exclusively to the pursuit of domestic economic reconstruction and development.

Keeping the brakes on expansion of military capabilities has seemingly been a matter of national consensus and every postwar prime minister has publicly distanced himself from expanding military power. Yet, throughout the twentieth century Japan has felt a strong sense of isolation, heightened by a feeling of uniqueness. Up to the end of World War II this was characterized by a fervent nationalism fed by state Shinto and reverence for the emperor. Since then, "one country pacifism," as the Japanese describe their foreign policy, has led some Japanese to conclude that their stance keeps them on the fringes of mainstream international dialogue.

Japan's democratic structure, with its civilian control over the military, minimizes the chances of an extreme shift toward a greater military role in government. Still, incremental changes over the past four decades have now brought Japan to the brink of abandoning "one country pacifism" for what many Japanese leaders see as the status of a "normal" nation-state. That is, a country that can freely use all of the traditional means--diplomatic, economic, and military--to pursue its interests.

In fact, foreign pressure, or gaiatsu, has provided the rationale for an expanding military capability since the Korean War. Earlier arguments in favor of a stronger military focused solely on the need to defend Japan from internal and external threats. By the mid-1980s, however, Japan's economic expansion had become something of a political liability in international circles, leading proponents of a defense buildup to further seek to address Japan's "international responsibilities," culminating most recently with the dispatch of 700 troops to Cambodia as part of a UN peacekeeping force.

Japan's unique position in the world as an economic giant that avoids military entanglements has come under particular scrutiny over the past few years. The issue has been whether the Yoshida Doctrine has left Japan ill-prepared politically and institutionally to deal with the demands now placed upon it. The Persian Gulf War, in particular, raised a number of difficult questions regarding U.S.-Japan relations, the role of Japan's Self-Defense Forces (SDF), and the challenging issue of constitutional interpretation. The last has been the central point of debate in the ongoing struggle between the ruling Liberal Democratic party, which has governed Japan for virtually all of the last four decades, and the opposition parties.

The LDP was able to pass last year's peacekeeping law that allows SDF troops to participate in overseas UN peacekeeping operations largely because of a powerful public relations campaign by the government in an effort, as one official put it, "to educate people a bit more." The debate focused on the question of whether or not participation in collective security, even peacekeeping, is barred under Japan's constitution. After nearly two years of grueling national debate, Japanese forces are now allowed to play a limited role in UN peacekeeping operations. Japanese military units currently in Cambodia have thus far been assigned only to rebuilding roads, bridges, and hospitals, and they are not allowed to engage in combat.

Nevertheless. some members of the ruling party would like to see Japan participate fully in future multinational operations such as the Gulf War, although this would likely require revision or further reinterpretation of the constitution. They argue that continuing Japan's pacifist uniqueness serves only to perpetuate residual guilt from World War II indefinitely.

The subject of the Japanese military is still a delicate one both in Japan and abroad. A Japanese military officer was fired last year after writing a magazine article contending that the only way to correct the "injustices" of influence-peddling and corruption in Japanese politics was through "a coup d'etat or a revolution." Japan's defense agency director has publicly urged the United States to remain militarily involved in Asia to "block Japan from re-emerging as a major militarist state." Even the word for patriotism, aikokushin, still reminds many older Japanese of the fervent nationalism of the first half of this century.

Nonetheless, although the majority of Japanese staunchly support their constitution which "forever renounces] war," there are signs of quiet resignation that their nation must assume a greater share of international obligations. Unlike 1960, when large numbers of Japanese turned out in demonstration against the U.S .-Japan Mutual Security Treaty, there were but scattered protests against last year's peacekeeping law.

Japan now has two options. It could become a more "normal" nation-state, which includes a greater capacity for the SDF. Or it could opt for the more challenging position as a leading peacemaker through environmental protection, economic aid, and refugee relief. Which course should the Japanese be encouraged to take? Japan deserves credit for the financial and diplomatic contributions it has made to international society and should be invited to continue to do so. In my view, it would be a mistake, however, to push the Japanese into assuming more of the military burden for settling disputes. The international outcry over the recent Japanese shipment of plutonium from Europe is an unfortunate reminder that Japan is still viewed with suspicion, especially in Asia. This is further illustrated by Asian pleas for the U.S. to remain militarily engaged in the region to prevent any additional rearming of Japan. A Japan that is perceived by its neighbors as acting independently, especially without the hedge of America's presence, will foster instability in Asia and the Pacific as other nations seek to expand their military capacity.

Given the unique opportunity presented by the end of the cold war, there are a great many ways--technological, scientific, and financial--that Japan could contribute to global peace that are consistent with its pacifist constitution. But it is also important for Japanese to play a more visible role in aiding third-world nations beyond the scope of overseas development assistance, which always carries the stigma of leading to expanded business opportunities for Japanese companies. Finally, it is important to bring the pacifist ideals of Japan's constitution into the mainstream of international dialogue. But to be a successful model, the people of Japan will have to demonstrate that their rejection of militarism is real, rather than a convenient disguise for apathy, requiring greater civilian participation in crisis areas where humanitarian efforts are most needed.

Robert J. Carraro, a former journalist, is an officer of The Asia Foundation's Center for Asian Pacific Fairs in Washington, D.C. The views expressed here are his own.