From banking to healthcare, looking to Canada has become fashionable of late. It is also an example on equality rights. I served as an officer in one of the first Canadian warships to deploy with women among its crew. That was only after a spirited campaign waged by the military against the integration of women in combat roles, in part on the basis that they would undermine the cohesion and fighting effectiveness of combat units. There would be privacy issues, sexual tension, an erosion of the essential masculine warrior ethos, and ultimately a degradation of military effectiveness.

All of this was proved false of course. It was proved false again a few years later, in the early 1990a, when the Canadian military was again forced to adhere to the country’s constitutional values and open its ranks to openly gay and lesbian members. To the extent there was any disruption (and most studies have found there to have been none), it was minor and temporary, as the military sub-culture adjusted very quickly to the new reality – a reality that better conformed to the values of the society the military is sworn to defend.

The experience of Canada, Britain, Israel, Germany, Australia, and many other democratic allies of the United States (the troops of which are fighting alongside Americans in Afghanistan) have demonstrated that there is no significant impact on military effectiveness by the integration of gay and lesbian troops. Quite the contrary. As with the admission of women, and racial minorities before that, it broadened the recruitment base and increased the number of highly skilled personnel available to the military.

Moreover, to the extent that some think there might still be some disruption of cohesion, it is important to note that the cause would necessarily be the underlying prejudice and homophobia within the military sub-culture. To argue against integration is to suggest that such prejudice should be protected and nurtured. That is profoundly inconsistent with the values of a democracy, and utterly untenable. It was rejected decades ago when the discrimination against non-white troops was terminated.

Even putting aside questions of motive or rationale, the policy denying people the opportunity to serve in the military because of their sexual orientation constitutes unjust discrimination that is entirely at odds with the fundamental right to equal protection. The right to be treated as an equal, and not be discriminated against on the basis of shared but personal characteristics that are tied to one’s sense of identity and dignity, is a right that is at the foundation of all liberal democratic systems, and a bedrock of international human rights.

The violation of that right simply cannot be justified in this context. Not only is there no important purpose served by the policy, given the compelling evidence that integration would have no significant impact on military effectiveness, but the disproportionate harm it causes is extreme. As compared to a marginal and temporary impact at the very most (and most studies of such transitions in other countries demonstrate that there is no impact at all), the discriminatory policy not only injures those gay and lesbian members who are denied entry or are drummed out of the military. Rather, the policy perpetuates the societal prejudice against all homosexuals. The policy effectively communicates to the entire society that homosexuals are less worthy of our respect and concern than the rest of Americans. It signals that gays and lesbians cannot be trusted to serve in the defence of the nation.

But the harm does not even end there. It not only causes egregious harm to all gay and lesbian members of our society, but it erodes the normative power of the right to equality itself, and thereby undermines the very values of our democracy. It casts the United States as a backward nation relative to other liberal democracies in the protection of equality rights, and human rights more generally.

We used to quip in the Navy that “we are here to defend democracy, not to practice it.” Nothing could be further from the truth. A military cannot defend a democracy while doing violence to the democratic values that constitute the very foundation of the nation.

A year ago this week, the Supreme Court of Japan issued a judgment that struck down a clause in the Nationality Act as being a violation of the Constitution. There are good reasons for everyone in Japan to celebrate that decision. While little noted outside of specialized legal journals at the time, the decision may have been the beginning of a more robust judicial protection of the right to equality in Japan.

The Nationality Act judgment was, of course, hailed as an historic decision — in part because it was only the eighth time the Supreme Court has struck down a law as unconstitutional; and in part because it would extend the benefits of nationality to tens of thousands of children born in Japan to Japanese fathers and foreign mothers who were not married. But much less noticed were the reasons of the court, and what that analysis meant for the right to equality itself.

Prior to this case, the courts of Japan employed a simplistic “reasonableness” test to determine if discrimination constituted a violation of the right to equality enshrined in Article 14 of the Constitution.

According to this test, the court would first decide whether the subject matter of the impugned law, which discriminated on the basis of some prohibited ground such as race, gender, creed, social status and the like, was an area upon which the government had the legitimate authority to legislate. If it was, and the means chosen by the law to advance the legislative purpose was rationally connected to its objective, then any discrimination it may have caused was deemed to be reasonable. It collapsed the entire analysis into a simplistic inquiry into whether the discrimination could be justified.

For example, a provision of the Civil Code limits the inheritance of illegitimate children to half that of legitimate children in the event that a parent dies without a will. This is discrimination based on family and social status, in apparent violation of Article 14 of the Constitution. The Supreme Court, in 1995, held that the objective of the law was to encourage people to marry, and to foster respect for the institution of marriage. The court reasoned that since the discrimination against illegitimate children might encourage prospective parents to marry, there was a rational connection between the objective and the means chosen, and so the discrimination was reasonable.

Now, the most insidious discrimination could be justified under this test. Indeed, something as horrendous as the Holocaust could be justified on the basis of a mere rational connection between objective and means. As such the right to equality in the Constitution of Japan, which on its face provides a strong protection against discrimination, in the hands of the courts was no protection at all.

But the Supreme Court may have finally abandoned this doctrine in the Nationality Act case of last year. The majority of the Supreme Court employed a more sophisticated analysis, looking at several key elements, and employing criteria external to the law in question. First, before examining the question of justification or “reasonableness,” the court carefully examined the nature of the discrimination itself and the harm that it caused. It explored how the provision discriminated against children on the basis of illegitimacy, and how the law not only harmed those children who were denied Japanese citizenship, but added to the stigmatization of all illegitimate children in Japan.

Turning to the question of justification, the court noted that the objective of the legislation was to ensure, as a condition of acquiring citizenship, that there is a close bond between the children born to unwed couples of mixed nationality, and the Japanese nation.

While the court accepted that the objective was legitimate, and within the scope of government authority to enact, it also concluded that the discrimination it created was not reasonable.

Yet, in its analysis of this “reasonableness,” the court employed external criteria in a manner that it had not done before. To begin with, it examined the extent to which marriage between parents was a sufficiently accurate proxy for a close bond between the child and Japan. The court concluded that, in this day and age, it was not. Marriage is simply no guarantee of where the child might live or grow up.

Moreover, the court looked to Japan’s obligations under international law to not discriminate against persons on the basis of legitimacy, as yet another yardstick for assessing the law’s reasonableness. It further inquired into whether there were alternative methods of ensuring a close bond between children and Japan, which would not discriminate on the basis of legitimacy.

Finally, the court examined the proportionality between the grievous harm caused to children by the discrimination, and the marginal benefit alleged to be gained by the legal distinction in the Nationality Act. It was only able to do this, of course, because it had initially made a careful inquiry into the nature of the discrimination and the harm that it caused, and the objective of the law itself. Each of these elements of the analysis went far beyond the “reasonable discrimination” test traditionally employed by the courts, and together form a framework that is designed to give real effect to the right to equality.

The right to be treated equally, and not to be discriminated against on the basis of personal characteristics in a manner that perpetuates unfair stereotypes and prejudice, and unjustly denies benefits or imposes burdens, is one of the most basic and profoundly important legal rights in a democracy. If the more sophisticated analytical framework employed in the Nationality Act case becomes the standard doctrine for discrimination claims, then the right to equality enshrined in the Constitution will be given new life. All minorities in Japan, not just foreigners, will benefit.

Indeed, since discrimination against the aged is one of the forms of discrimination that is prohibited by Article 14, everyone in Japan’s aging society may have good cause to celebrate the development of this new doctrine, and the re-birth of the right to equality in Japan.

As tensions mount and there is increasing talk of shooting down the “debris” from a pending North Korean rocket launch, there has been little discussion of what would happen if Japan shot down the rocket instead. While there is great public support for action, there should be some pause to consider the constitutional and legal issues of Japan’s military deployment in these circumstances.

North Korea continues to prepare for the launch of a an experimental satellite delivery system, widely suspected of being a Taepodong 2 long-range ballistic missile, scheduled for some time between April 4-8. While North Korea touts the launch as an attempt to put a satellite in orbit, many view it as a missile test in violation of a 2006 U.N. Security Council resolution. North Korea has provided notice of the flight path, which will take the missile over Japan and into the middle of the Pacific.

It was announced on March 28, that Japan’s Minister of Defense had issued orders to the Self-Defense Forces (SDF) to deploy Ballistic Missile Defense (BMD) assets (the land-based Patriot Missile batteries or PAC-3, and the maritime Aegis Cruiser based SM-3 systems) to shoot down “any part of a North Korean rocket that might fall toward Japanese territory” (link). The order, authorized by the prime minister, is said to be based on Article 82 of the SDF Law.

The provision provides the authority to order the SDF to take measures to destroy missiles or other falling objects (other than aircraft), which are suspected to be heading for Japanese territory and which could cause serious harm to persons or property (link). Others have written about the considerable technical difficulty that the SDF might encounter in trying to intercept actual debris from the first stage of the rocket, which is supposed to separate and fall to earth prior to the rocket passing over Japanese territory (link).

An equally difficult problem, however, may be distinguishing between debris and the rocket itself. And indeed, it is not so difficult to imagine a temptation among some in the chain of command to rely on that difficulty, and to take a shot at the rocket itself. Shooting down the missile itself, under cover of confusion, might be seen as sending a powerful message regarding both Japan’s BMD capability, and its political will to use military force to defend Japanese territory.

Therein, of course, lies the legal problem. The missile is expected to be at an altitude of 600 – 1000 kilometers above the Earth by the time it is passing over Japan (link). In other words, it will be in what is generally considered, for legal purposes, “outer space”. While there is no exact definition of the demarcation between a state’s territorial air-space, over which it may exercise complete control, and the lower limits of outer space, the most accepted range is 160 kilometers (or 100 miles). That is the lowest altitude that can sustain free orbit.

Outer space is, under international law, the “province of all mankind”, and all nations have both the right and an interest in the exploration and use of outer space (link). While states may control absolutely and deny access to the airspace over their territory, they have no control over, or right to interdict, the passage of vehicles through the area of outer space that lies above their national territory.

If Japanese forces were to fire on and destroy the North Korean missile in its trajectory over Japan, it would first of all exceed the authority conferred by Article 82 of the SDF Law. It would also be a violation of the international law governing the use of outer space. The fact that the launch might itself be in violation of a U.N. Security Council Resolution would not alter that fact. Moreover, it would constitute the use of armed force against the vessel of another country, and that would have both international law and constitutional ramifications.

Indeed the constitutional issue is the most important in terms of Japan’s internal legal order. For this use of armed force against the vessel of another country in an international common area (that is, outer space), would most certainly constitute a violation of Article 9 of the Constitution. Paragraph 1 of Article 9 provides (in part) that “the Japanese people forever renounce war as a sovereign right of the nation and the threat or use of force as a means of settling international disputes.”

There can be no doubt that there is an international dispute among North Korea on the one hand, and Japan, the United States, South Korea and indeed the rest of the international community on the other. The dispute centers on North Korea’s continued efforts to develop nuclear weapons and delivery systems. It is a dispute that has been the subject of U.N. Security Council Resolutions, including Resolution 1718 of 2006, which prohibits North Korea from any further ballistic missile testing (link). Shooting down a rocket that is widely suspected to be a disguised ballistic missile test would constitute a use of force as part of efforts to resolve this international dispute, and thus would violate Article 9.

For those who might be tempted to feebly raise the issue of self-defense, in these circumstances there would have to be very clear and compelling evidence that the trajectory of the rocket was such that it was certain to hit Japanese territory before any claim of self-defense could gain credence. The preliminary evidence is that the missile is programmed for a trajectory taking it over Japan and into the Pacific, and that it is indeed carrying a satellite rather than a warhead (link).

The launch by North Korea is a most unwelcome provocation, and there are all kinds of arguments about how the international community should best respond. But a miscalculation by Japanese forces in the frenzy over preventing “debris” from falling on Japanese territory, could not only gravely complicate the international situation, but also create serious legal and constitutional problems for Japan.

Once again the issue of Japanese contributions to international security efforts is the subject of tortured debate. And once again the proposed government policy, and aspects of the debate itself, reveals fundamental misunderstanding of the relationship between Article 9 of the Constitution and the relevant principles of international law.

This time, the issue relates to maritime piracy off the coast of Somalia, and the proposed deployment of Japanese naval vessels to the area. Predictably, the issue has triggered debate over the effect of the war-renouncing provision of the Constitution. A careful analysis, however, would suggest that the Article 9 prohibition on the use of force would not apply to the deployment of naval forces, or their use of weapons, to protect shipping from pirates in international waters.

Yet, it is clear that the government policy is being formulated under the shadow of Article 9. While the ships are initially being deployed under the authority of Article 82 of the Self-Defense Forces Law, the government has drafted and submitted to the Diet a permanent anti-piracy law, and it is around this bill that debate has focused.

Opposition to the bill has centered on questions of whether the Maritime Self-Defense Force (MSDF) vessels would be permitted to assist foreign ships, what degree of relationship with Japan would be necessary to justify MSDF intervention and under what circumstances weapons could be employed against pirates.

This is quite clearly due to the influence of the government interpretation of Article 9 as prohibiting any use of force by Japan except for the purposes of “individual self-defense” — meaning the direct defense of Japan. Similarly, the opposition to the policy is being shaped by Article 9.

The criticism is that any use of force by the MSDF to defend ships of other nations would somehow constitute “collective self-defense,” which is understood to be prohibited by Article 9. Similarly, it is argued that any use of weapons for purposes other than strict self-defense would be prima facie illegitimate.

But these concerns fail to consider the true nature of the prohibition in Article 9. Paragraph 1 of Article 9 states (in part) that “the Japanese people forever renounce war as a sovereign right of the nation and the threat or use of force as a means of settling international disputes.”

The words “as a means of settling international disputes” qualify and limit the scope of the prohibition. The provision does not purport to prohibit the use of force of any kind whatsoever by the organs of the state. For instance, it clearly does not prohibit the use of force for ensuring internal security, and the Japanese police can legally use force to break up riots or armed insurrections.

The language and the drafting history of the provision clearly suggest that it was aimed at prohibiting participation in armed conflict, principally with other sovereign nations, as a means of furthering the foreign policy of the state and resolving disputes with or between other nation states. In short, the use of force contemplated by the provision is the use of military force employed against the territory and people, and the armed forces or other agents, of another state.

So the question then, is whether the deployment of the MSDF, and the possible use of armed force by the MSDF, to help prevent piracy in the Gulf of Aden, falls within the scope of this constitutional prohibition of the use of force. To answer that question, one has to understand the concept of “piracy” in international law.

Piracy has been an international crime under the Law of Nations for several centuries. The prohibition of piracy under international law is generally understood to have risen to the level of jus cogens (compelling law), meaning that it is one of the few peremptory norms from which no country may derogate.

The International Court of Justice has confirmed that pirates are to be considered the enemy of all mankind, and that any nation may, in the interest of the entire world, capture and punish those engaged in piracy.

Piracy, under most generally accepted definitions, constitutes illegal acts of violence or any other act of depredation, committed for private ends by the crew of a private ship (or aircraft), that is directed against another ship (or aircraft) on the high seas or in a place outside the jurisdiction of any state.

The key elements of this definition are that it is a criminal act, perpetrated by private individuals for personal ends, outside of the jurisdiction of any state (which, incidentally, is quite different from non-state actors engaged in terrorism, a quintessentially political activity, typically conducted within the jurisdiction of a state, and often supported or harbored in another state).

Any use of force against pirates in international waters, either to defend private shipping from their attacks or even to apprehend them and bring them to justice, cannot be construed as a use of military force for the purpose of settling international disputes. Such action does not involve the application of force against the agents of another state, the engagement in armed conflict with the forces of another state, or any other act of war. The laws of war under international law would not be triggered by the use of force against pirates, and it would not apply to such conduct.

In short, such use of force against pirates, in international waters, cannot fall within the scope of the prohibition in Article 9 of the Japanese Constitution. Now, to be sure, the MSDF would have to take care that the target of their activity legitimately fell within the definition of “pirates,” and that they were in international waters. Conducting activities in the territorial waters or on the shores of Somalia, for instance, would raise entirely different issues.

In the past, failure to sufficiently understand the applicable international law, and the relationship between such principles of international law and the proper interpretation of Article 9, has resulted in Japanese participation in international military operations that arguably violated the Constitution.

It may be understandable, therefore, that some in Japan will be apprehensive that the deployment of the military for any reason may open the door to further unconstitutional activity. And, indeed, there is a real and significant risk that such deployments of the military could be used cynically by the government to undermine the powerful norms within Japan against the use of military force.

Those concerned about this risk may be tempted in these circumstances to invoke the Constitution as a bar against the deployment against pirates. But that would be dangerously counterproductive. It would simply contribute to a process in which political forces exploit constitutional arguments for instrumentalist purposes, whether they be cynical or benign, leading to confusion and disagreement over the meaning of the Constitution, and the overall weakening of its authority.

There may be room for debate over the wisdom of deploying naval forces to defend against pirates on the high seas. The Constitution should not be part of that debate. One of the key defenses against government infringement of the actual constitutional principles is to ensure that the scope and meaning of the principles remain clearly understood and widely shared. And the government ought to ensure the integrity of the Constitution by applying its provisions consistently, and in accordance with that understanding, in the shaping of national policy.

第９条の新解釈を押し付けようとすることの致命的な欠陥

一般に柳井報告として知られている「安全保障の法的基盤の再構築に関する懇談会」報告は、日本が集団的自衛および集団安全保障活動に参加することを可能にするためには、日本国憲法第９条の再解釈が必要であると主張している。現在は、いずれの活動も、第９条第１項で禁止されていると解されている。しかし、この報告書は、懇談会の分析の正当性を根底から覆す根本的欠陥を明らかにしている。

懇談会は2007年4月に、安倍晋三内閣（当時）によって、憲法の「再解釈」の必要性を検討するために設置された。懇談会は、13人の著名な学者、元外交官、その大部分は国際関係、政治、国家安全保障の専門家である官僚たちで構成されたていた。懇談会のメンバーの中に憲法学者は一人しかいなかった。懇談会は、憲法改正に賛成していることが公に知られているタカ派によって占められていると批判された。座長の柳井俊二は、元アメリカ大使であり、現在は中央大学教授であるが、6月に内閣に懇談会報告を提出した。

当時の福田康夫首相は、この報告書すなわち憲法の「再解釈」にはほとんど興味を示さなかった。しかし麻生首相は、第９条は「再解釈」されなければならないと、国連で繰り返し述べた。さらに柳井報告書が、官僚たちの間で歓迎され、政府内において次第に影響力を行使しそうな証拠がある。したがってこの報告書は、もっと公に吟味の対象とならなければならないのである。

この報告書は、冷戦終結以降、日本および国際社会には脅威が増大し、脅威の種類も様々になって国際的な安全保障の環境が変化したため、これまで確立されてきた憲法の解釈は、もはや適切ではないと主張している。むしろ、９条は重要な安全保障の目的の遂行を妨げているというのである。

このように、この報告書は、一層効果的な防衛力と一層強固な国家安全政策の展開を可能にするために、第９条の解釈は「改め」なれなければならないと主張している。日本を効果的に防衛し、日本の安全保障にとっての要である日米安全保障条約を支持し、日本の安全保障につながる国際的な平和と安全保障に貢献するという戦略的に緊急性を要することがらを遂行するためにはこれが必要であるというのである。要するに報告書の主張するところは煎じつめればこうである。「日本はより多くの脅威にさらされている。したがって、第９条の意味は、われわれがこれらの脅威によりよく対処できるように変えられなければない」。

（このような）政治的分析は賞賛に値する。しかし、憲法的分析としては、このような主張は、不合理である。現在の（国際）状況が提起した諸問題を識別するところから始めて、（次に）これらの諸問題を解決するのに必要な政治的対応を決定することに移り、それからそのような政策を採用することを促すための憲法条項の解釈に終わるというアプローチそのものが全く不合理なのである。

いかなる憲法理論の定説においても、憲法の解釈は、ある特定の条項の結論や政治的な関連問題から出発し、次にその条項の意味を政治的に望ましい成果を実現できるようなやり方で反対向きに移っていくことはできない。そのような結果志向の論法は、明らかに説得力に欠ける。それどころか、報告書の中で主張されているところとは異なり、懇談会が行ったのはまさしくこのことなのである。

憲法は自国の基本的な法的枠組みを形成している。その諸条項は、将来の世代に対して、このようにつくられたシステムの制限内で、かつ憲法が具体化した価値や理想に従って行動することを義務付けている。ある憲法条項の意味は、その条項それ自体の正文を考慮し、その条項が達成するように企図されている目的を理解して決定しなければならない。そうしたプロセスを助けるものに、憲法の他の部分への考慮や憲法制定・批准の歴史がある。それらは、そのプロセスの中で書き上げられた法的諸原則が教えてくれる。

基本的な法原則を運用するにあたって、一貫性、安定性、予測可能性は、法治主義にとって決定的に重要であるから、その条項の裁判所や憲法上必要な権限を備えた統治機構によるその後の解釈や長年にわたるその運用もまた解釈のための重要な基準である。

憲法解釈については様々な理論がある。他のものに比べ、正本と憲法制定者意思により結合しているものもあるし、憲法は、裁判所における解釈の長年にわたる積み重ねを通して、また価値観の変動や国の現実状況に伴って徐々に発展する生きた制度であるということを強調する研究方法もある。しかし、認識された政治上の必要性に合わせるため、その場しのぎの極端な政府による条項再解釈を予定するような憲法解釈論は存在しない。

仮に、国の状況に重要な変化が、ある憲法の条項を継続して持ち続けることに疑義が生ずるほどのものになった場合には、適切な道は憲法を改正することである。状況の変化、さらには価値観の変化でさえも、明らかに予定されている。通常（憲法）改正手続きは憲法システムの一部分をなしている。日本国憲法に例外ではない。日本国憲法はドイツやアメリカ合衆国よりも簡単な改正手続きをもっているのである。

その場しのぎの「解釈」とりわけ行政府のその場しのぎの「解釈」は、まさしく正統な憲法改正手続きを回避する究極のやり方なのである。

もし国民の多数はそのような改正を支持しないだろうというのであれば、それは、国民の多数が賛同しない新しい意味を憲法に押し付けようとすることの不合理性を際立たせるだけである。そもそも、「状況が変わった。だから我々は憲法を変えなくてはならない」という議論は、まったく正当なものである。しかし「状況が変わった。だから憲法の意味は変わらなければならない」という議論は正当なものではない。

もし政府が状況の変化を理由に第９条を「再解釈」することが簡単にできるなら、ほかの条項ではなぜそれができないということになるのか。日本への移民の数が、高齢者の人口という難問に反応を示して増加するならば、政府はもはや外国人に対する差別を禁止するものではないとして、第１４条をも「再解釈」することができるのであろうか。いかなる条項の「再解釈」をも、憲法の構造全体を危機に陥れることになる。もちろん、裁判所は憲法を解釈する最終的な権威をもっている。しかし日本の最高裁判所は歴史的に、こうした状況では頼りにならないほど政府に敬意を示してきた。

アメリカ合衆国の銃の問題を考えてみよう。多数のアメリカ人やおそらく世界の他のほとんどの国の人々は、先進国の中で、最も殺人や暴力の発生率が高い国で、個人に小火器を保所持する権利を保障している憲法条項を持つということは、誤っていると考えている。その条項すなわち修正第２条は、２００年以上も前に批准されたものである。それは、多くの人々によって、時代錯誤であり、かつアメリカにおける銃という現代の社会悪を減らすための努力に対する重大な障害となっていると考えられている。

しかし、アメリカ合衆国大統領や連邦議会が、すべての小火器を法的に禁止することを可能にするために、修正第２条を「再解釈」するなどということは全く想像すらできないことである。そして、アメリカ合衆国憲法修正第２条は、日本国憲法第９条よりずっとあいまいであり、もっと複雑な歴史をもっている。最近コロンビア州自治区が最高裁判所の前で行ったように、妥当な憲法解釈の諸原則に基づいているならば、別の解釈の方が、より妥当なものとなる。しかし、アメリカでは銃があまりにも多くの人々を殺しているので、修正第２条はいまや何か別のものを意味するようになったと政府が簡単に主張することはできないのである。

柳井報告は、変化しつつある国際的な安全保障環境について重要な分析をしており、また日本の戦略的な政策の必要性について簡潔な表現で述べている。それは、日本が第９条の制約内で国家安全保障の目的に応えることができるかどうかという重要な疑問を提起している。

柳井報告はまた、憲法改正に賛成する立場に立って、提出するのが妥当な重要な議論を提供している。報告書はさらに、報告書が奨励している変化によって可能となる軍事力の行使を制約するために設けられるべき法的な限界について、かなり詳細かつ見事な勧告を行っている。報告書は政治的な文書としては、少なからぬ価値をもっている。

しかし、第９条が、このようにして長期にわたって確立してきた解釈とは異なる意味を持つべきだという報告書の結論は、まったく説得力に欠ける。懇談会は、その解釈論のいくつかの項目において、誤りをおかしている。しかし、アプローチ全体の非論理性は、これらの誤りを目立たなくさせている。

上述したように、柳井報告は、その政治的分析に価値がありうるとは言えても、憲法の意味に対していかなる影響力をもってはならない。そして報告書に従おうとする政府の試みは、問題とされなければないのである。

以上

（常岡せつ子教授翻訳）