guarantees their people happiness.
Nor could they.
By William Wetherall
The Declaration of Independence of 4 July 1776 holds that "all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." Too bad for the fishes in the deep blue sea.
The American scientist, diplomat, and publisher Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790), one of the originators and signers of the declaration, is supposed to have remarked that the U.S. Constitution guarantees only the pursuit of happiness. Individuals have to catch up with it themselves. William Channing (1780-1842), a Unitarian minister and social critic, similarly maintained that "The office of government is not to confer happiness, but to give men opportunity to work out happiness for themselves."
"Created equal" is taken in context to mean that all people were born with what Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826) more often called "natural rights". Apparently he preferred "inalienable" to "unalienable", but his style sheet was trumped by a typesetter who was inperturbed by unalienable. It could not have a typo of the kind made today on a qwertyui keyboard.
Japanese equivalents of the word "happiness" do not appear in the 604 "Constitution in Seventeen Articles"（十七条憲法）by Shōtoku Taishi (573-621). Nor do any show up in the 1890 Meiji Constitution. The English version of the 1947 Constitution of Japan, though, embodies verbatim the famous phrasing of the Declaration of Independence.
Article 13
All of the people shall be respected as individuals. Their right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness shall, to the extent that it does not interfere with the public welfare, be the supreme consideration in legislation and in other governmental affairs.
第１３条
すべて国民は、個人として尊重される。生命、自由及び幸福追求に対する国民の権利については、公共の福祉に反しない限り、立法その他の国政の上で、最大の尊重を必要とする。
Japan's postwar Constitution was based on a draft in English submitted to the Japanese government by the Allied Powers represented by Douglas MacArthur (1880-1964), then a general, now a god. The Allies didn't get everything they wanted, but the Imperial Diet found the guarantee of a "right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness" harmless enough. The dignity of the individual had, after all, been subordinated to "public welfare".
Besides, people in Japan past and present, like people in all places at all times, have always been free to pursue happiness to the extent that no one in a position of authority has found reason to stop them. Essentially, then, nothing has changed. If you're not happy, it's your own fault. If you're not where you want to be, it's up to you to get there. Or try to get there. Or be content with a dream of getting there.
I said as much to a friend who insists on crying once or twice a day mostly out of self-pity. I tell her, if she's not doing what she wants to do, then do it. Maybe she can't "Just do it" as the Nike ad urges. Perhaps she will need to do a little preparation -- study, train, practice, save money, whatever. Nothing, though, is going to change unless she strives to make things change. Since she can't afford to hire palanquin bearers or a helicopter, the only way she's going to get to the top of Mt. Fuji is to hike there on her own two feet.
Still, you may go through life, working and struggling to make your dreams come true, and never get close to reaching your goals. Would this mean that happiness has evaded you? Not if you accept the dictum that happiness is in the pursuit, not the arrival.
Of course you may feel a wonderful sense of accomplishment when at last you reach the top of Mt. Fuji and look down on the rest of the world. Yet you might stumble all the way to the summit and find yourself shrouded in a fog so thick you can't even see into the crater. While you could not be blamed for feeling disappointed, you have every right to take joy in the fact that you not only dreamed of climbing Fuji, but actually did.
Life is a marathon. Only one person is going to win. A few others will place. Many, but not all starters, will finish. Many times more people will be content to mingle along the route and just root. The vast majority of humankind won't even know about the event, or care if they do.
As long as you have the legs to carry you down whichever road in the wood you choose to take, there will be nothing to stop you except an occasional tree across your way, or a perhaps a mountain lion. Barriers and dangers are there to discover ways around. At times you may encounter an obstacle so high, wide, and deep, or so terrifying, that you simply have to admit you've reached a limit. Accepting a limitation is not giving up. It is merely a recognition of the difference between a possible and an impossible dream.
Some people without legs find ways to run. Many people with legs entertain an intent but never make an attempt. The unfortunate are those who have no dreams. The most fortunate are those who cherish both impossible and possible dreams. The possible dreams are for achieving. The impossible dreams are for embracing in your heart, from which they will nourish the sparkle in your eyes that others will see as your soul.
One way or other, we all cross the finish line of life. But how will we get there? Running? Crawling? Lying on a gurney? Or slumping in a catatonic state before a boob tube we didn't turn on and can't turn off?
Now and then you read about a man or a woman dying on the slopes of Mt. Fuji from a heart attack. Some people climb even knowing the risks. They are among the lucky few who realize that happiness and comfort are not the same thing -- and that "inalienable rights" do not exist except as we imagine and earn them.
3 January 1999
