On Constitution Memorial Day, it is easy to treat the constitution as something distant—like air, always present yet rarely noticed. But recent events remind us that it quietly shapes what a nation can and cannot do.
In Japan, discussions about constitutional revision have resurfaced, often framed around security, international responsibility, and national autonomy. Yet for many citizens, including the author, the constitution remains difficult to fully grasp in its entirety. When the time comes to vote, what standards should guide us?
This essay reflects on that uncertainty. It considers the gap between abstract principles—such as the rejection of war—and the concrete realities of global conflict. It also raises a concern: that important decisions about the constitution could be reduced to something as superficial as a popularity contest.
Rather than offering clear answers, the piece invites readers to confront a quieter, more uncomfortable question—how many of us are truly thinking about this issue as our own?
The second day of the long holiday.
Today is Constitution Memorial Day.
The Constitution of Japan is like the backbone of the nation.
If it is bent or broken, the consequences would be serious.
And yet, its existence is like air—something we rarely notice in our daily lives.
Recently, however, I encountered something that made me realize how deeply the constitution affects reality.
A leader of a political party I do not particularly support commented, in relation to the conflict in the Middle East, that Japan cannot easily dispatch minesweepers to remove naval mines in the Persian Gulf because of constitutional constraints.
Likewise, when the Prime Minister told the President of the United States that there are things Japan can and cannot do, it was probably rooted in the same framework.
To not wage war, and not to take part in war—
this should be a fundamental principle of humanity.
War not only takes human lives, but also destroys countless other forms of life and wipes away what people have built over time in an instant.
Watching such scenes day after day, one almost feels a creeping numbness toward the fear of war.
Does the constitutional revision now being discussed threaten this fundamental principle?
Will it move toward allowing the idea of striking back when attacked, or even striking first?
Or is it meant to address entirely different aspects?
To be honest, I do not fully understand the constitution as a whole.
If a national referendum were to take place, I am not sure what criteria I should use to make my decision.
Even if I were to reread the entire constitution now, it is not something that can be easily understood in a short time.
But to treat such a decision like an extension of a popularity contest—like the recent general election—would be dangerously superficial.
There are valid arguments in favor of creating a “homegrown” constitution.
However, even within the various constraints of the postwar period, the current Constitution of Japan was shaped with the involvement of Japanese people.
The constitution quietly, yet steadily, defines the nature of the nation.
To avoid waking up one day to find ourselves under an authoritarian regime, each citizen must think of this as a personal matter.
And yet, one cannot help but wonder—how many people are truly doing so?
A constitution may be silent, but the responsibility to understand it is not.
・・・Vocabulary for Learners
- backbone:背骨、基盤→ the backbone of the nation(国家の基盤)
- constitutional constraints:憲法上の制約
- dispatch:派遣する→ 軍事・公的文脈でよく使われる
- take part in:参加する、関与する
- creeping numbness:じわじわとした麻痺
- strike back / strike first:反撃する/先制攻撃する
- national referendum:国民投票
- homegrown constitution:自主憲法
- authoritarian regime:権威主義的政権、独裁政権
















