Within weeks of 9/11, Japan dispatched ships to the Indian Ocean to provide fuel and other support to the Western forces waging the war in Afghanistan.

It was the first time since World War II that Japan sent forces abroad to support an overseas military conflict, although in a noncombat role. American policymakers hailed Japan as a loyal ally, willing to put "boots on the ground."

Come Nov. 1, however, the Japanese ships will be heading home.

American officials worry that, after taking steps to shed its postwar pacifism, Japan will now shirk its role as an ally in international security.

But these concerns are alarmist. The Japanese government, even its liberal opposition party, has shown a desire and commitment to contribute to global security.

A renewal of the law authorizing the mission in Afghanistan is now increasingly unlikely, since the opposition Democratic Party of Japan (DPJ), which opposes the measure, won a shocking victory in last summer's elections for the upper house of parliament. While the ruling conservative Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) is still determined to reauthorize the military role, it faces significant public opposition and a tough road in the parliament.

Some American officials and experts have issued bellicose warnings that not renewing the mission would signal a dangerous retreat from Japan's responsibilities in the world and undermine the security alliance. Others accused DPJ leader Ozawa Ichiro of being irresponsible, even "anti-American."

These remarks are clumsy and unfair. The possibility of Japan's return to a lesser security role is real enough, but its mission in Afghanistan is the wrong test of the country's reliability as an ally.

In reality, the maritime mission has become largely symbolic. As for Mr. Ozawa, if Americans would listen carefully to his arguments, they would find that he seeks to expand, not contract, Japan's global security role.

What the US sees as backtracking on global responsibility is actually something else --opposition, shared by Japan's liberal and conservative parties, to the American decision to invade Iraq. Once carefully buried behind the appearance of alliance solidarity, it is now surfacing.

Ozawa and his party have been unusually open in questioning the Iraq war, characterizing it as a war without clear international justification. According to reliable accounts, Japanese Prime Minister Fukuda Kazuo privately shares that view, as do others in the LDP.

US officials critical of the DPJ for avoiding a greater security role for Japan should remember that the party supported the antiterrorism law when it was passed in 2001. But they refused to support its renewal later after the Iraq war began. Over time, senior DPJ members say, the mission's original purpose got muddied with military operations in Iraq. Japanese and American officials deny that any diversion took place, but the Pentagon admits that ships engage in multiple missions and there is no way to segregate how fuel is used.

The new version of the law proposed by the LDP explicitly narrows the role of the Navy to supporting antiterrorist interdiction operations, a backhanded acknowledgment that there was no clear separation from the Iraq war.

Ozawa has long advocated a more visible security role for Japan outside its borders, calling on the government to send forces to aid the Gulf War in 1991 and pushing through legislation allowing Japanese participation in UN peacekeeping operations.

Japanese peacekeepers, however, are restricted to noncombat missions. Despite inching toward a larger security role, the government stands by an interpretation of Japan's American-authored antiwar clause in its Constitution that bars the use of force for anything other than to respond to an attack on themselves. But Ozawa has long contended that the constitutional bar should not extend to UN activities.

This month, Ozawa proposed that instead of the maritime force, Japan should send peacekeepers to Afghanistan under the auspices of the UN-authorized international security forces, and to Sudan as well.

Ironically, the ruling conservatives reject that as unconstitutional, arguing it would be an act of collective defense rather than self-defense.

"If Japan is to really be an ally of the US ..." Ozawa wrote, "it should hold its head up high and strive to give proper advice to the US." And in order to do that," he continued, "Japan had to be willing to put itself more on the line by sharing responsibility for peacekeeping, not just sending a few boats out of harm's way."

These are ideas that should be embraced, rather than denounced, by American officials.

Reprinted by permission by the Christian Science Monitor.

The opportunity to engage Kim Jong-il, the leader of the Democratic Peoples Republic of Korea (DPRK), in serious dialogue is inherently attractive. A face-to-face meeting with Kim has the potential to break through a fog of misperception and mistrust.

Given the nature of the DPRK system, the key decisions can only be made at the very top of the pyramid of power. One summit encounter is therefore potentially more valuable then scores of ministerial meetings or talks among senior officials.

These opportunities have unfortunately been extremely rare. Despite some 35 years of intermittent dialogue going back to the South-North talks held in 1972, this would mark only the second time the top leaders of divided Korea have met each other.

The hope for momentum created by the historic meeting of President Kim Dae-jung with Kim Jong-il in Pyongyang in June 2000 swiftly dissipated, disappointing many Koreans.

This may appear to be the right moment to restore the impetus to the North-South summitry. Since the 2000 summit, the process of engagement between the Koreas has deepened dramatically, ranging from extended contacts among officials to the flow of tourists, at least from the South to the North, across the border.

Economic exchanges are widespread, from the Gaeseong industrial park to a growing trade in goods. And the six-party talks to reach an agreement to dismantle the DPRK's nuclear program are at least moving forward, in large part due to the resumption of direct diplomatic negotiations between Pyongyang and Washington.

There are serious reasons, however, to question whether this is the right time for a second inter-Korean summit.

First and foremost, President Roh Moo-hyun is, in every sense of the word, a lame duck. When the summit was scheduled to take place, it was less than three months until the presidential election.

The election campaign is unusually uncertain, with the ruling party and its allies still in the process of selecting their nominee. Polls indicate that a change in leadership --bringing the opposition Grand National Party to power -- is very possible.

While he remains in office, President Roh has every right to exercise his authority and leadership. But given the political uncertainties, and the vital nature of inter-Korean relations, it would seem imperative to secure bipartisan support not only for the summit but also for the policy outcome.

For any gains to be meaningful, there should be some assurance that these policies will continue in place whomever succeeds as president.

Without that broad support, charges that the summit meeting is motivated more by domestic political considerations gain credence.

Even worse, Pyongyang's decision to agree to hold the summit may also be a crude attempt on its part to try to influence the ROK election in favor of the progressive camp. Even if these charges are not true, they undermine the value that this summit may have to shape a long-term future for the peninsula.

The timing of the summit is also problematic because the nuclear negotiations with the DPRK have reached a very delicate moment.

The temporary halt to the operation of the nuclear reactor at Yongbyon and the reintroduction of international inspectors was an important gesture.

But the DPRK has not yet clearly decided to irreversibly disable its nuclear facilities and fully disclose its nuclear programs and arsenals.

The Roh administration claims this summit will reinforce this negotiation. But it also has declared that the nuclear issue will not be on the summit agenda. In the absence of a dismantlement deal, this summit may only serve to recognize the DPRK's claim to the status of a nuclear power.

But all of these problems of timing take a back seat, in my view, to the location of the inter-Korean summit. Kim Jong-il committed himself, in the 2000 joint declaration, to a return visit to Seoul. This was not a trivial matter -- it was perhaps the most difficult issue in the talks, as Kim Dae-jung said upon return to Seoul.

Everyone understands the historic significance of a visit by Kim to Seoul. It would finally signal the DPRK's acceptance of the legitimacy of the ROK and its leadership and the abandonment of its historic aim to force unification under its banner.

The DPRK leadership would be compelled to show its own people images of their leader in the glittering streets of Seoul. That visit alone could go much farther than any peace declaration, any agreement on boundaries, any military confidence-building measures, or any economic investment deals, toward bringing a permanent peace to the Korean Peninsula.

If this summit had occurred in the right place, then the issues of timing would be incidental. No one could object to a breakthrough of that magnitude. Unfortunately, Kim Jong-il was not pressed to live up to his commitment. If this meeting achieves anything, it should make it clear that the next summit will only be held in Seoul.