Tag: atomic bomb

  • 2012 Nagasaki Peace Declaration

    Tomihisa TaueHumankind has senselessly engaged in wars repeatedly throughout history. However, even during wartime there are certain unacceptable actions. Under current international humanitarian law, it is regarded as a criminal act to kill or injure children, mothers, civilians, injured soldiers, or prisoners of war. Moreover, the law unequivocally bans the use of poisonous gases, biological weapons, anti-personnel landmines and other inhumane weapons that indiscriminately cause suffering to people and significantly impact the environment.


    On August 9, 1945 at 11:02 a.m., a single atomic bomb was dropped on Nagasaki by a United States bomber. The intense heat rays caused by the bomb charred the bodies of many victims. Blast winds, strong enough to bend iron rails, tore apart the bodies of many others. Skin hung off of naked bodies. Mothers carried their headless babies. People who looked healthy died one after another. In that year alone, the atomic bomb took over 74,000 lives and injured another 75,000. Those who survived have continued to suffer a higher incidence of contracting cancer and other serious radiation-induced diseases and, even today, they still live in fear.


    Why haven’t nuclear weapons, capable of indiscriminately and inhumanely taking so many lives and causing a lifetime of anguish for those left behind, been banned yet?


    In November 2011, the International Red Cross and Red Crescent Movement, a movement that has long observed the cruelty of warfare, adopted the humanitarian-based resolution “Working towards the elimination of nuclear weapons.” In May 2012, the first session of the Preparatory Committee for the 2015 Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT) Review Conference was held in Vienna. At the session, representatives of many countries cited the inhumanity of nuclear weapons, and a Joint Statement on the Humanitarian Dimension of Nuclear Disarmament was presented on behalf of sixteen countries. At long last, calls to define nuclear weapons as inhumane have grown louder, in line with what the people from atomic-bombed cities have long been vocally demanding.


    However, what is the situation we are facing today?


    There are over 19,000 nuclear weapons in the world. People all over the world live with the danger that a nuclear war could break out at any moment. I ask you, what would happen to humanity if a modern nuclear weapon, far more powerful than the atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, were to be used?


    To ensure that Nagasaki is the last city ever to be a victim of a nuclear attack, it is essential to definitively ban not only the use of nuclear weapons but everything from their development to their deployment. A new approach is required that goes beyond the confines of the existing Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT) and we have already determined several methods of doing so.


    One method is the Nuclear Weapons Convention (NWC). In 2008, United Nations Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon expressed the need for the NWC. For the first time, the NWC was mentioned in the Final Document of the 2010 NPT Review Conference. The international community must act now by taking the first concrete steps towards concluding the NWC.


    The creation of Nuclear Weapon-Free Zones (NWFZ) is another realistic and concrete method at our disposal. Most of the lands in the Southern Hemisphere are already covered by these zones, and this year efforts are being made to organize a meeting to discuss the creation of a Middle East Nuclear Weapon-Free Zone. To date, we have repeatedly called on the Japanese government to work toward the creation of a Northeast Asia Nuclear Weapon-Free Zone. Along with enacting the Three Non-Nuclear Principles into law, the Japanese government must promote efforts such as these, address the serious challenge presented by nuclear weapons in North Korea, and demonstrate leadership as the only atomic bombed country in the world.


    In April 2012, the long-awaited Research Center for Nuclear Weapons Abolition (RECNA) was established at Nagasaki University. RECNA is expected to serve as a hub for networking and disseminating information and proposals pertinent to the abolition of nuclear weapons. With the establishment of RECNA, we here in Nagasaki are determined more than ever to further our work to fulfill the mission tasked to us an atomic bombed city.


    Reaching out to the youth is vital in realizing a world without nuclear weapons. Starting tomorrow, the Global Forum on Disarmament and Non-Proliferation Education will begin here in Nagasaki co-sponsored by the Japanese government and the United Nations University.


    Nuclear weapons were born out of distrust and fear of other countries as well as the desire for power. Nagasaki will also be emphasizing peace and international understanding education to help create a world where future generations can live in a society based on mutual trust, a sense of security, and the notion of harmonious coexistence.


    The accident at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant operated by the Tokyo Electric Power Company, Inc. shook the world. We here in Nagasaki will continue to support the people of Fukushima as it brings us great sorrow that every day they still face the fear of radiation. In addition to speeding up restoration of the affected areas, we call on the Japanese government to set new energy policy goals to build a society free from the fear of radioactivity and present concrete measures to implement these policies. We cannot postpone the issue of the disposal of the vast amount of nuclear waste generated from operating nuclear plants. It is up to the international community to cooperate and address this problem.


    The average age of the remaining atomic bomb survivors now exceeds seventy seven. We ask once again of the government to listen to the voices of those suffering with utmost sincerity and make efforts towards the enhancement of additional support policies.


    We offer our sincere condolences for the lives lost in the atomic bombings, and pledge to continue our efforts towards the abolition of nuclear weapons hand-in-hand with the citizens of Hiroshima and all people in the world who share our goal for a nuclear free world.

  • 2012 Hiroshima Peace Declaration

    Kazumi Matsui8:15 a.m., August 6, 1945. Our hometown was reduced to ashes by a single atomic bomb. The houses we came home to, our everyday lives, the customs we cherished—all were gone: “Hiroshima was no more. The city had vanished. No roads, just a burnt plain of rubble as far as I could see, and sadly, I could see too far. I followed electric lines that had fallen along what I took to be tram rails. The tram street was hot. Death was all around.” That was our city, as seen by a young woman of twenty. That was Hiroshima for all the survivors. The exciting festivals, the playing in boats, the fishing and clamming, the children catching long-armed shrimp—a way of life had disappeared from our beloved rivers.


    Worse yet, the bomb snuffed out the sacred lives of so many human beings: “I rode in a truck with a civil defense team to pick up corpses. I was just a boy, so they told me to grab the ankles. I did, but the skin slipped right off. I couldn’t hold on. I steeled myself, squeezed hard with my fingertips, and the flesh started oozing. A terrible stench. I gripped right down to the bone. With a ‘one-two-three,’ we tossed them into the truck.” As seen in the experience of this 13-year-old boy, our city had become a living hell. Countless corpses lay everywhere, piled on top of each other; amid the moans of unearthly voices, infants sucked at the breasts of dead mothers, while dazed, empty-eyed mothers clutched their dead babies.


    A girl of sixteen lost her whole family, one after the other: “My 7-year-old brother was burned from head to toe. He died soon after the bombing. A month later, my parents died; then, my 13-year-old brother and my 11-year-old sister. The only ones left were myself and my little brother, who was three, and he died later of cancer.” From newborns to grandmothers, by the end of the year, 140,000 precious lives were taken from Hiroshima.


    Hiroshima was plunged into deepest darkness. Our hibakusha experienced the bombing in flesh and blood. Then, they had to live with aftereffects and social prejudice. Even so, they soon began telling the world about their experience. Transcending rage and hatred, they revealed the utter inhumanity of nuclear weapons and worked tirelessly to abolish those weapons. We want the whole world to know of their hardship, their grief, their pain, and their selfless desire.


    The average hibakusha is now over 78. This summer, in response to the many ordinary citizens seeking to inherit and pass on their experience and desire, Hiroshima has begun carefully training official hibakusha successors. Determined never to let the atomic bombing fade from memory, we intend to share with ever more people at home and abroad the hibakusha desire for a nuclear-weapon-free world.


    People of the world! Especially leaders of nuclear-armed nations, please come to Hiroshima to contemplate peace in this A-bombed city.


    This year, Mayors for Peace marked its 30th anniversary. The number of cities calling for the total abolition of nuclear weapons by 2020 has passed 5,300, and our members now represent approximately a billion people. Next August, we will hold a Mayors for Peace general conference in Hiroshima. That event will convey to the world the intense desire of the overwhelming majority of our citizens for a nuclear weapons convention and elimination of nuclear weapons. The following spring, Hiroshima will host a ministerial meeting of the Non-Proliferation and Disarmament Initiative comprising ten non-nuclear-weapon states, including Japan. I firmly believe that the demand for freedom from nuclear weapons will soon spread out from Hiroshima, encircle the globe, and lead us to genuine world peace.


    March 11, 2011, is a day we will never forget. A natural disaster compounded by a nuclear power accident created an unprecedented catastrophe. Here in Hiroshima, we are keenly aware that the survivors of that catastrophe still suffer terribly, yet look toward the future with hope. We see their ordeal clearly superimposed on what we endured 67 years ago. I speak now to all in the stricken areas. Please hold fast to your hope for tomorrow. Your day will arrive, absolutely. Our hearts are with you.


    Having learned a lesson from that horrific accident, Japan is now engaged in a national debate over its energy policy, with some voices insisting, “Nuclear energy and humankind cannot coexist.” I call on the Japanese government to establish without delay an energy policy that guards the safety and security of the people. I ask the government of the only country to experience an atomic bombing to accept as its own the resolve of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Mindful of the unstable situation surrounding us in Northeast Asia, please display bolder leadership in the movement to eliminate nuclear weapons. Please also provide more caring measures for the hibakusha in and out of Japan who still suffer even today, and take the political decision to expand the “black rain areas.”


    Once again, we offer our heartfelt prayers for the peaceful repose of the atomic bomb victims. From our base here in Hiroshima, we pledge to convey to the world the experience and desire of our hibakusha, and do everything in our power to achieve the genuine peace of a world without nuclear weapons.

  • For a World Without Wars or Nuclear Weapons

    The Great East Japan Earthquake that hit the region on March 11 last year caused the catastrophic damage, which reminded us of the A-bomb disaster in Hiroshima and Nagasaki that fell upon us Hibakusha. The radiation damage from the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant accident, which shook the entire world, has put us into anxiety, distrust and irritation without any perspective for convergence even after a year and half have passed. In the 67th year since the atomic bombing, once again we are facing the terrifying effects of nuclear damage.


    The Hibakusha, who have continued to carry on the message “No more Hibakusha,” are filled with pain and anger.


    Hiroshima after the U.S. dropped an atomic bomb on August 6, 1945.I am a Hibakusha, a victim of the first nuclear war in the history of the world, when the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima in 1945. At the time, I was 7 years old, a second grader in primary school.


    At 8:15 am on August 6, 1945, I was inside the wooden school building. Suddenly I felt a blinding flash. The next moment, the ceiling of the building collapsed and sharp splinters of windowpanes flew all around. They stuck into the walls, desks and floor of the classroom, and also into my skin. I don’t remember how much time passed before I crawled out of the room to the corridor, leaving behind my classmates trapped between the beams. In the school infirmary I had the glass splinters removed from my skin, but there were no medicines, gauze or bandages to treat my injuries.


    My father managed to come to the school to find me. On my way home, carried on my father’s back, I witnessed hell on earth. I saw a man with burned and peeled skin dangling from his body. A mother was carrying a baby, which was burned-black and looked like charcoal. She herself was heavily burned all over her body and was trying to flee from the place, almost crawling on the ground. Others lost their sight, their eyeballs popped out, or ran around trying to escape, while holding their protruding intestines in their hands. More and more people tried to cling on to us, saying, “Give me water, water, water…” Unable to give any kind of help to them, we just left them there and hurried home.


    Shortly before the atomic bombing, my house was located near ground zero, and I used to go to school about only 350 meters away. But our family was forced to move away from the city center by order of the government, and I changed school too. If we had stayed in our old place, I would not be alive to tell you the story. Later I learned that about 400 pupils in my old school were burned and killed instantly by the bomb, leaving no traces, not even their ashes.


    When I arrived home 3.5 kilometers from the blast center, I found the roof of the house blown away by the blast and fragments of glass scattered all around. “Black Rain” fell into the house, and traces of the “Black Rain” on the wall remained for a long time.


    Neighbors of our old house near ground zero and our relatives began to arrive, seeking help and shelter. Among them was my favorite cousin, who was like a big sister for me. She had been mobilized to work around the area 500 meters from the blast center when the bomb exploded. Half of her face, her entire back and her right leg were severely burned, sore and raw. In the intense summer heat, her burns quickly festered. Flies swarmed and laid their eggs in her flesh. Soon maggots bred and crawled around over her body. All I could do for my beloved cousin was to pick these maggots out and wipe her oozing body. She often cried, “Ouch…oh it hurts,” but her voice became lower and lower, and on the morning of the third day — probably it was August 9 — she breathed her last in my arms. She was 14 years old. Another cousin, who was in fifth grade of primary school, was suffering from diarrhea, although he had no injuries or burns. About a week later, he bled from his ears and nose, vomited blood clots from his mouth and died suddenly. One after the other, several of my uncles and aunts followed my cousins within a matter of month.


    Their deaths were not caused by any illness. They were killed by the atomic bomb used in the war.


    Autumn breezes began to blow and I found my hair starting to fall out. My parents did everything possible to save me, using folk medicines and other means. They later died of cancer. I am so grateful to my parents. I believe I have been able to survive to this day thanks to their love.
     
    However, the atomic bomb continued to afflict me in my later life. Whenever I tried to get a job or get married, I suffered from prejudice and discrimination just because I was a Hibakusha. When I became pregnant, I was tremendously worried, wondering if I would give birth to a baby who would be seen as a Hibakusha’s child. Around that period, many Hibakusha could not get married, or gave up hope of getting married. Even after marriage, they often suffered repeated stillbirths and miscarriages, or lost their children prematurely due to illness.


    One of my close Hibakusha friends went through 6 stillbirths and miscarriages. Her husband beat her, saying that it was because she was a Hibakusha that they could not have children. She used to say she had a racking pain in her hip, and eventually she died.


    The atomic bomb completely deprived us of ordinary daily lives for human beings.


    It is most painful for me now to speak about my daughter. She was suddenly taken with cancer. She made a tearful and difficult decision to take a major operation, believing that it would make her healthy again. After the 13-hour operation, in fear of the recurrence or metastasis of cancer, she was going through the treatment and rehabilitation, despite great physical and mental pains. But she died abruptly, only 4 months after she was first diagnosed.


    When I got pregnant with her, after much wavering over the possible radiation effect on the baby, I finally decided to give birth to her. So her death has given me deep sorrow and vexation. But now, a year after her death, I am determined to go forward, as I believe she is always with me, encouraging and supporting me.


    It is still not proven whether a second generation Hibakusha is more likely to suffer cancer or not. But it is clear that radiation would affect the human genes, which is a cause for big anxiety among second and third generation Hibakusha.


    The Hibakusha are, even without any physical problems, doomed to suffer, to be distressed, to moan and get angry at every important junction in their lives. The aftereffects of the atomic bomb continue to bring hardships to the survivors across the board throughout their lives, physically, mentally and in their living conditions.


    Such experiences as ours should never be inflicted on any of you, nor on anyone in the world. It is inevitable that nuclear bombs would cause untold damage to human beings if they would ever be used again whether on purpose or by accident.


    We now demand of the leaders of the nuclear weapons states that they should see with their own eyes the reality of the damage caused on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. They claim that they are for deterrence. However, deterrence means a threat based on the possible actual use of these weapons. We the Hibakusha refuse to accept any threat or use of nuclear weapons. Nuclear weapons are clearly inhumane weapons. Nuclear weapons are weapons of the devil, which cannot coexist with humanity.


    The world is still loaded with more than 20,000 nuclear warheads. Each one of them is said to be dozens of times of more destructive than the Hiroshima-type bomb.


    That nuclear weapons exist on earth should not be allowed from the humanitarian point of view.


    Dear friends, the Hibakusha do not have much time left. Thank you for listening today. Let us work hard together to realize a world without nuclear weapons, with “No more Hibakusha” as the goal. In particular, we have a high expectation for young people.


    We hope that the 2015 NPT Review Conference will achieve significant results. On my part, I will also continue to tell about the damage caused by nuclear weapons as long as I live.


    No More Hiroshimas. No More Nagasakis. No More War.


    Thank you.

  • Were the Atomic Bombings Necessary?

    David KriegerOn August 14, 1945, Japan surrendered and World War II was over.  American policy makers have argued that the atomic bombs were the precipitating cause of the surrender.  Historical studies of the Japanese decision, however, reveal that what the Japanese were most concerned with was the Soviet Union’s entry into the war.  Japan surrendered with the understanding that the emperor system would be retained.  The US agreed to do what Truman had been advised to do before the bombings:  it signaled to the Japanese that they would be allowed to retain the emperor.  This has left historians to speculate that the war could have ended without either the use of the two atomic weapons on Japanese cities or an Allied invasion of Japan.


    The US Strategic Bombing Survey concluded that, even without the use of the atomic bombs, without the Soviet Union entering the war and without an Allied invasion of Japan, the war would have ended before December 31, 1945 and, in all likelihood, before November 1, 1945.  Prior to the use of the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the US was destroying Japanese cities at will with conventional bombs.  The Japanese were offering virtually no resistance.  The US dropped atomic bombs on a nation that had been largely defeated and some of whose leaders were seeking terms of surrender.


    Despite strong evidence that the atomic bombings were not responsible for ending the war with Japan, most Americans, particularly those who lived through World War II, believe that they were.  Many World War II era servicemen who were in the Pacific or anticipated being shipped there believed that the bombs saved them from fighting hard battles on the shores of Japan, as had been fought on the islands of Iwo Jima and Okinawa.  What they did not take into account was that the Japanese were trying to surrender, that the US had broken the Japanese codes and knew they were trying to surrender, and that, had the US accepted their offer, the war could have ended without the use of the atomic bombs.


    Most high ranking Allied military leaders were appalled by the use of the atomic bombs.  General Eisenhower, the Supreme Commander of Allied Forces Europe, recognized that Japan was ready to surrender and said, “It wasn’t necessary to hit them with that awful thing.” General Hap Arnold, commander of the US Army Air Corps pointed out, “Atomic bomb or no atomic bomb, the Japanese were already on the verge of collapse.”


    Admiral William Leahy, Truman’s chief of staff, put it this way: “The use of this barbarous weapon at Hiroshima and Nagasaki was of no material assistance in our war against Japan.  The Japanese were already defeated and ready to surrender.  In being the first to use it, we adopted an ethical standard common to barbarians of the Dark Ages.  Wars cannot be won by destroying women and children.”


    What Truman had described as “the greatest thing in history” was actually, according to his own military leaders, an act of unparalleled cowardice, the mass annihilation of men, women and children.  The use of the atomic bombs was the culmination of an air war fought against civilians in Germany and Japan, an air war that showed increasing contempt for the lives of civilians and for the laws of war. 


    The end of the war was a great relief to those who had fought for so long.  There were nuclear scientists, though, who now regretted what they had created and how their creations had been used.  One of these was Leo Szilard, the Hungarian émigré physicist who had warned Einstein of the possibility of the Germans creating an atomic weapon first and of the need for the US to begin a bomb project.  Szilard had convinced Einstein to send a letter of warning to Roosevelt, which led at first to a small project to explore the potential of uranium to sustain a chain reaction and then to the Manhattan Project that resulted in the creation of the first atomic weapons.


    Szilard did his utmost to prevent the bomb from being used against Japanese civilians.  He wanted to meet with President Franklin Roosevelt, but Roosevelt died on April 12, 1945.  He next tried to meet with the new president, Harry Truman, but Truman sent him to Spartanburg, South Carolina to talk with his mentor in the Senate, Jimmy Byrnes, who was dismissive of Szilard.  Szilard then tried to organize the scientists in the Manhattan Project to appeal for a demonstration of the bomb rather than immediately using it on a Japanese city.  The appeal was stalled by General Leslie Groves, the head of the Manhattan Project, and did not reach President Truman until after the atomic bombs were used.


    The use of the bomb caused many other scientists to despair as well.  Albert Einstein deeply regretted that he had written to President Roosevelt.  He did not work on the Manhattan Project, but he had used his influence to encourage the start of the American bomb project.  Einstein, like Szilard, believed that the purpose of the U.S. bomb project was to deter the use of a German bomb.  He was shocked that, once created, the bomb was used offensively against the Japanese.  Einstein would spend the remaining ten years of his life speaking out against the bomb and seeking its elimination.  He famously said, “The unleashed power of the atom has changed everything except our modes of thinking, and thus we drift toward unparalleled catastrophe.”

  • The Decision to Bomb Hiroshima

    This article was originally published by CounterPunch.


    Gar AlperovitzToday is the 66th anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima. Though most Americans are unaware of the fact, increasing numbers of historians now recognize the United States did not need to use the atomic bomb to end the war against Japan in 1945. Moreover, this essential judgment was expressed by the vast majority of top American military leaders in all three services in the years after the war ended: Army, Navy and Army Air Force. Nor was this the judgment of “liberals,” as is sometimes thought today. In fact, leading conservatives were far more outspoken in challenging the decision as unjustified and immoral than American liberals in the years following World War II.


    By the summer of 1945 Japan was essentially defeated, its navy at the bottom of the ocean; its air force limited by fuel, equipment, and other shortages; its army facing defeat on all fronts; and its cities subjected to bombing that was all but impossible to challenge. With Germany out of the war, the United States and Britain were about to bring their full power to bear on what was left of the Japanese military. Moreover, the Soviet Union—at this point in time still neutral—was getting ready to attack on the Asian mainland: the Red Army, fresh from victory over Hitler, was poised to strike across the Manchurian border.


    Long before the bombings occurred in August 1945—indeed, as early as late April 1945, more than three months before Hiroshima—U.S. intelligence advised that the Japanese were likely to surrender when the Soviet Union entered the war if they were assured that it did not imply national annihilation. An April 29 Joint Intelligence Staff document put it this way: “If at any time the U.S.S.R. should enter the war, all Japanese will realize that absolute defeat is inevitable.”


    For this reason—because it would drastically shorten the war—before the atomic bomb was successfully tested (on July 16, 1945) the U.S. had strongly and repeatedly urged the Soviet Union to join the battle as soon after the defeat of Hitler as possible. A target date of three months after Germany’s surrender was agreed upon—which put the planned Red Army attack date at roughly August 8, the war in Europe having ended on May 8. (In late July the date was temporarily extended by a week.)


    Nor was there any doubt that the Soviet Union would join the war for its own reasons. At the Potsdam Conference in July (before the successful atomic test) President Truman entered the following in his diary after meeting with Soviet Premier Joseph Stalin on July 17: “He’ll be in the Jap War on August 15. Fini Japs when that comes about.”


    The next day, July 18, in a private letter to his wife, the President wrote: “I’ve gotten what I came for—Stalin goes to war August 15 with no strings on it…I’ll say that we’ll end the war a year sooner now…”


    The President had also been urged to offer assurances that the Japanese Emperor would be allowed to remain in some form of powerless figurehead bomb garrole by many top advisers—including, importantly, Secretary of War Henry L. Stimson, the man who oversaw the development of the atomic bomb. Before the bomb was used he explicitly urged the President that in his judgment the war would end if such assurances were given—without the use of the atomic bomb.


    Nor were there insuperable political obstacles to this approach: Leadings newspapers like the Washington Post, along with leaders of the opposition Republican Party were publically demanding such a course. (Moreover, the U.S. Army wanted to maintain the Emperor in some role so as to use his authority both to order surrender and to help manage Japan during the occupation period after war’s end—which, of course, is what, in fact, was done: Japan still has an Emperor.)


    As the President’s diary entry and letter to his wife indicate, there is little doubt that he understood the advice given by the intelligence experts as to the likely impact of the upcoming Russian attack. Further evidence is also available on this central point: The American and British Joint Chiefs of Staff—the very top military leaders of the two nations—also met at Potsdam to consolidate planning for the final stages of the war in the Pacific. General Sir Hastings Ismay, Chief of Staff to the British Minister of Defence, summarized the latest (early July) combined US-UK intelligence evidence for Prime Minister Churchill this way: “[W]hen Russia came into the war against Japan, the Japanese would probably wish to get out on almost any terms short of the dethronement of the Emperor.”


    The July joint intelligence finding, of course, for the most part simply restated what had been the essential view of American intelligence and many of the President’s top advisers throughout the spring and summer months leading up to the July meeting at Potsdam.


    Among the many reasons the shock of Soviet entry was expected to be so powerful were: first, that it would directly challenge the Japanese army in what had been one of its most important strongholds, Manchuria; second, it would signal that there was literally no hope once the third of the three Great Powers was no longer neutral; and third, and perhaps even more important, with the Japanese economy in disarray Japanese leaders were extremely fearful that leftist groups might be powerfully encouraged, politically, if the Soviet Union were to play a major role in Japan’s defeat.


    Furthermore, U.S. intelligence had broken Japanese codes and knew Japanese leaders were frantically hoping against hope as they attempted to arrange some form of settlement with Moscow as a mediator. Since their strategy was so heavily focused on what the Russians might or might not do, this further underscored the judgment that when the Red Army attacked, the end would not be far off: the illusory hope of a negotiation through Moscow would be thoroughly dashed as Soviet tanks rolled into Manchuria.


    Instead, the United States rushed to use two atomic bombs at almost exactly the time that an August 8 Soviet attack had originally been scheduled: Hiroshima on August 6 and Nagasaki on August 9. The timing itself has obviously raised questions among many historians. The available evidence, though not conclusive, strongly suggests that the atomic bombs may well have been used in part because American leaders “preferred”—as Pulitzer Prize–winning historian Martin Sherwin has put it—to end the war with the bombs rather than the Soviet attack. Impressing the Soviets during the early diplomatic sparring that ultimately became the Cold War also appears likely to have been a significant factor.


    Some modern analysts have urged that Japanese military planning to thwart an invasion was much more advanced than had previously been understood, and hence more threatening to U.S. plans. Others have argued that Japanese military leaders were much more ardently committed to one or more of four proposed ‘conditions’ to attach to a surrender than a number of experts hold, and hence, again, would likely have fought hard to continue the war.


    It is, of course, impossible to know whether the advice given by top U.S. and British intelligence that a Russian attack would likely to produce surrender was correct. We do know that the President ignored such judgments and the advice of people like Secretary of War Stimson that the war could be ended in other ways when he made his decision. This, of course, is an important fact in its own right in considering whether the decision was justified, since so many civilian lives were sacrificed in the two bombings.


    Moreover, many leading historians who have studied both the U.S. and Japanese records carefully (including, among others, Barton Bernstein and Tsuyoshi Hasegawa) have concluded that Japan was indeed in such dire straits that–as U.S. and British intelligence had urged long before the bombings–the war would, in fact, have likely ended before the November invasion target date once the Russians entered.


    It is also important to note that there was very little to lose by using the Russian attack to end the war. The atomic bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki on August 6 and August 9. There were still three months to go before the first landing could take place in November. If the early August Russian attack did not work as expected, the bombs could obviously have been used anyway long before any lives were lost in the landing.


    (Since use of the atomic bombs and Russia’s entry into the war came at almost exactly the same time, scholars have debated at great length which factor influenced the surrender decision more. This, of course, is a very different question from whether using the atomic bomb was justified as the only way to end the war. Still, it is instructive to note that speaking privately to top Army officials on August 14 the Japanese Emperor stated bluntly: “The military situation has changed suddenly. The Soviet Union entered the war against us. Suicide attacks can’t compete with the power of science. Therefore, there is no alternative…” And the Imperial Rescript the Emperor issued to officers and soldiers to make sure they would lay down their arms stated: “Now that the Soviet Union has entered the war, to continue under the present conditions at home and abroad would only result in further useless damage… Therefore…I am going to make peace.”)


    The most illuminating perspective, however, comes from top World War II American military leaders. The conventional wisdom that the atomic bomb saved a million lives is so widespread that (quite apart from the inaccuracy of this figure, as noted by Samuel Walker) most Americans haven’t paused to ponder something rather striking to anyone seriously concerned with the issue: Not only did most top U.S. military leaders think the bombings were unnecessary and unjustified, many were morally offended by what they regarded as the unnecessary destruction of Japanese cities and what were essentially noncombat populations. Moreover, they spoke about it quite openly and publicly.


    Here is how General Dwight D. Eisenhower reports he reacted when he was told by Secretary of War Henry L. Stimson that the atomic bomb would be used:



    “During his recitation of the relevant facts, I had been conscious of a feeling of depression and so I voiced to him my grave misgivings, first on the basis of my belief that Japan was already defeated and that dropping the bomb was completely unnecessary, and secondly because I thought that our country should avoid shocking world opinion by the use of a weapon whose employment was, I thought, no longer mandatory as a measure to save American lives.”


    In another public statement the man who later became President of the United States was blunt: “It wasn’t necessary to hit them with that awful thing.”


    General Curtis LeMay, the tough cigar-smoking Army Air Force “hawk,” was also dismayed. Shortly after the bombings he stated publically: “The war would have been over in two weeks. . . . The atomic bomb had nothing to do with the end of the war at all.”


    Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz, Commander in Chief of the Pacific Fleet, went public with this statement: “The Japanese had, in fact, already sued for peace. . . . The atomic bomb played no decisive part, from a purely military standpoint, in the defeat of Japan.”


    I noted above the report General Sir Hastings Ismay, Chief of Staff to the British Minister of Defence, made to Prime Minister Churchill that “when Russia came into the war against Japan, the Japanese would probably wish to get out on almost any terms short of the dethronement of the Emperor.” On hearing that the atomic test was successful, Ismay’s private reaction was one of “revulsion.”


    Shortly before his death General George C. Marshall quietly defended the decision, but for the most part he is on record as repeatedly saying that it was not a military decision, but rather a political one. Even more important, well before the atomic bombs were used, contemporary documents record show that Marshall felt “these weapons might first be used against straight military objectives such as a large naval installation and then if no complete result was derived from the effect of that, he thought we ought to designate a number of large manufacturing areas from which the people would be warned to leave–telling the Japanese that we intend to destroy such centers….”


    As the document concerning Marshall’s views suggests, the question of whether the use of the atomic bomb was justified turns not only on whether other options were available, and whether top leaders were advised of this. It also turns on whether the bombs had to be used against a largely civilian target rather than a strictly military target—which, in fact, was the explicit choice since although there were Japanese troops in the cities, neither Hiroshima nor Nagasaki was deemed militarily vital by U.S. planners. (This is one of the reasons neither had been heavily bombed up to this point in the war.) Moreover, targeting was aimed explicitly on non-military facilities surrounded by workers’ homes. Here we can gain further insight from two additional, equally conservative military leaders.


    Many years later President Richard Nixon recalled that



    “[General Douglas] MacArthur once spoke to me very eloquently about it, pacing the floor of his apartment in the Waldorf. He thought it a tragedy that the Bomb was ever exploded. MacArthur believed that the same restrictions ought to apply to atomic weapons as to conventional weapons, that the military objective should always be limited damage to noncombatants. . . . MacArthur, you see, was a soldier. He believed in using force only against military targets, and that is why the nuclear thing turned him off.”


    Although many others could be cited, here, finally, is the statement of another conservative, a man who was a close friend of President Truman’s, his Chief of Staff (as well as President Roosevelt’s Chief of Staff), and the five star Admiral who presided over meetings of the Combined U.S.-U.K. Chiefs of Staff during the war—William D. Leahy:



    “[T]he use of this barbarous weapon at Hiroshima and Nagasaki was of no material assistance in our war against Japan. The Japanese were already defeated and ready to surrender. . . . [I]n being the first to use it, we . . . adopted an ethical standard common to the barbarians of the Dark Ages. I was not taught to make war in that fashion, and wars cannot be won by destroying women and children.”

  • Remembrance, Reflection and Resistance

    David KriegerWe remember the horrors of the past so that we may learn from them and they will not be repeated in the future.  If we ignore or distort the past and fail to learn from it, we are opening the door to repetition of history’s horrors.

    In August, we remember the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, which took place on August 6 and 9, 1945, respectively. Both were illegal attacks on civilian populations, violating long-standing rules of customary international humanitarian law prohibiting the use of indiscriminate weapons (as between combatants and non-combatants) and weapons that cause unnecessary suffering.

    In a just world, those who were responsible for these attacks, in violation of the laws of war, would have been held to account and punished accordingly.  They were not.  Rather, they were celebrated, as the atomic bombs themselves were celebrated, in the false belief that they brought World War II to an end.

    The historical record is clear about these facts: First, at the time Hiroshima and Nagasaki were leveled, each with a single atomic bomb, Japan had been trying to surrender. Second, the US had broken the Japanese codes and knew that Japan had been trying to surrender. Third, prior to the use of the atomic bombs, the only term of surrender offered to Japan by the US was “unconditional surrender,” a term that left the Emperor’s fate in US hands.  Fourth, the precipitating factor to Japan’s actual surrender, as indicated by Japanese wartime cabinet records, was not the US atomic bombs, but the Soviet Union’s entry into the war against them.  Fifth, when Japan did surrender, after the atomic bombings, it did so contingent upon retaining the Emperor, and the US accepted this condition.

    The US drew a self-serving causal link from the bombings, which was: we dropped the bombs and won the war.  In doing so, we reinforced the US belief that it can violate international law at times and places of its choosing and that US leaders can attack civilians with impunity.

    Following the victory in Europe, the Allied powers held the Nazi leaders to account at the Nuremberg Tribunals for crimes against peace, war crimes and crimes against humanity.  The Charter creating the Nuremberg Tribunals was signed by the US on August 8, 1945, two days after it had dropped an atomic bomb on the city of Hiroshima.  One day after signing the Charter, the US would drop a second atomic bomb on the city of Nagasaki.  Both atomic bombings were war crimes that, if they had been committed by Nazi leaders, most certainly would have been universally denounced and punished at Nuremberg.

    Upon reflection, we must come to understand Hiroshima and Nagasaki as war crimes, if such crimes are not to be repeated.  We must resist the double standard that makes crimes committed by our enemies punishable under international law, while the same crimes committed by our leaders are deemed to be acceptable.  We must resist nuclear weapons themselves. They are city-destroying weapons whose possession should be considered prima facie evidence of criminal intent.

    It has been two-thirds of a century since Hiroshima and Nagasaki were destroyed by atomic bombs.  There remain over 20,000 nuclear weapons in the world.  We must resist the tendency to normalize these weapons and consign them to the background of our lives. They reflect our technological skills turned to massively destructive ends and our failed responsibility to ourselves and to future generations.

    Looking back at Hiroshima and Nagasaki, General Eisenhower said that the bombings were not necessary because Japan was already defeated; and Admiral William Leahy, Truman’s chief of staff, compared us to barbarians of the Dark Ages and said that he was not taught to make war by destroying women and children.  Einstein said that, looking forward, we must change our modes of thinking or face unparalleled catastrophe.  Changing our modes of thinking begins with remembrance, reflection and resistance.

  • Nuclear Detonation: Fifteen Scenarios

    Many people are complacent about nuclear weapons.  They would prefer to deny the nuclear threat and put nuclear dangers out of their minds.  Unfortunately, this is a dangerous approach to a serious threat to humanity. There are many ways in which a nuclear detonation could take place, including accident, miscalculation and intentional use.  Any use of nuclear weapons, including by accident or miscalculation, could lead to the destruction of a city as occurred at Hiroshima and Nagasaki.  Further, a nuclear weapon detonation could trigger a retaliatory response leading to nuclear war and even broader devastation, including the annihilation of complex life on the planet.  Listed below are 15 possible scenarios for a nuclear detonation.  These are 15 arguments against complacency and for engagement in seeking a world without nuclear weapons.

    1. False Alarm:  A false alarm triggers a decision to launch a nuclear attack.
    2. Unauthorized Launch: Launch codes are obtained by hackers, espionage agents or coercion and used to launch high alert forces.  This could involve the physical takeover of a mobile missile, or the use of codes obtained via pre-delegation.
    3. Accidental Nuclear War:  An accidental launch leads to an escalation into a nuclear war.
    4. Control and Communications failure:  A rogue field commander or submarine commander falls out or deliberately puts himself out of communications with his central command and launches a nuclear attack on his own authority.
    5. “Dr. Strangelove” Nuclear War:  The launch of a nuclear attack by a rogue field or submarine commander leads to a retaliatory strike that escalates into a nuclear war.
    6. A Terrorist Bomb:  A terrorist group obtains nuclear materials and creates an unsophisticated nuclear device or obtains a bomb and succeeds in detonating it in a large city.
    7. Terrorist Bomb Triggers Nuclear War:  A terrorist nuclear attack is disguised in such a way as to appear to come from another nuclear weapons state, leading to a “retaliatory strike” that escalates into nuclear war.
    8. Preemptive Attack:  Believing one’s country to be under nuclear attack or about to be under such attack, a leader of a nuclear weapon state launches a preemptive nuclear attack.
    9. Preventive Nuclear War:  A nuclear weapons state launches an unprovoked nuclear attack against another country perceived to pose a future threat.  An example would be the use by Israel of a small tactical nuclear weapon against deeply buried nuclear facilities in Iran.
    10. Escalation of Conventional War:  India and Pakistan, for example, engage in further conventional war over Kashmir.  The conflict escalates into a nuclear exchange of approximately 100 Hiroshima-sized nuclear weapons, resulting in potentially a billion deaths.
    11. Military Parity:  In a conventional war, Russia defaults to nuclear weapons due to its deteriorating conventional military capability.
    12. Irrational Leader:  An unstable and paranoid leader, fearing attack and/or regime change, launches a nuclear attack against perceived adversaries.  There are no democratic controls.
    13. Rational Leader:  A leader, making what he deems to be rational calculations, launches a nuclear attack against perceived adversaries to assure the survival of his country.  There are no democratic controls.
    14. Prompt Global Strike:  The US proceeds with plans to place conventional weapons on some of its inter-continental ballistic missiles.  When launching one of these missiles, it is mistaken for a nuclear-armed warhead, resulting in a retaliatory nuclear attack.
    15. Intentional Nuclear War:  Tensions and conflict between major nuclear powers mount, leading to an intentional nuclear war.  Civilization is destroyed and complex life on Earth is ended.
  • Remembering Normand Brissette

    Normand Brissette died 60 years ago on Aug. 19, 1945. But who was Normand Brissette, and why should anyone pause to remember his death?

    On the morning of Aug. 6, 1945, Brissette, a 19-year-old Navy airman from Lowell, was one of 11 American POWs being held at Chugoku Military Police Headquarters in the center of Hiroshima. All were members of Air Force B-24 or Navy dive-bomber crews who had been captured after parachuting when their planes were shot down by Japanese anti-aircraft fire on July 28.

    The prison was about 1,300 feet from ground zero. Like everyone killed at Hiroshima, these men could never have imagined the force that was about to annihilate them when the first atomic bomb ever used against a human population exploded in an airburst above them exactly 45 seconds after it had been released from the Enola Gay at 8:15 a.m.

    Most of the American POWs must have perished almost instantly, but Brissette and another man, Air Force Sergeant Ralph Neal, didn’t die at once. They suffered severe radiation burns and were somehow moved to a different location, where other American POWs futilely tried to look after them. Brissette and Neal survived in torment for 13 days and died on Aug. 19.

    Even today, most Americans are unaware that American POWs were also victims of the atomic bombs.

    At Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery in Missouri, there is a symbolic common grave at Section 82, Gravesite 156, that lists eight of their names. Brissette’s is not among them, though Neal’s is.

    There is no memorial plaque stating who these men were or how they died. Only the death date listed on their common grave, Aug. 6, 1945, might make a passerby pause to wonder about them.

    Even the national cemetery official at Jefferson Barracks with whom I spoke had no idea of the significance of this gravesite until I explained it to him. None of this is an accident. We cannot remember Brissette if we never knew he existed. Like the bomb, secrecy is a potent weapon.

    For at least 35 years after the war ended, these Hiroshima POW deaths were kept secret by the US government. Not even immediate family members were informed how their loved ones died. It wasn’t until the 1980’s that researchers using the Freedom of Information Act began to uncover the stories of these atomic ”friendly fire” victims.

    There were almost certainly additional American POWs killed in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, along with hundreds of Allied POWs from Australia, the Netherlands, and Great Britain. Between 1,000 and 2,000 Japanese-Americans trapped in Japan by the war were killed. Thousands of slave laborers from China, Manchuria, the Philippines, and conquered European colonies in South Asia were killed. About 30,000 Korean slave laborers were killed.

    In all, some 200,000 to 250,000 people in Hiroshima and Nagasaki were killed instantly or within three months. Of these, 35,000-50,000 were non-Japanese.

    These numbers don’t draw attention from the enormous suffering of the Japanese. Instead, they reveal how all humanity became fused as victims of these first two nuclear blasts.

    While the 11 American POWs killed in Hiroshima are a tiny fraction of all victims, they bear ghostly witness to the still unlearned lesson that nuclear weapons are not only weapons of mass destruction, but weapons of self-destruction as well.

    There are only two memory points for these POWs on American soil. One is Common Gravesite 156. The other is a memorial plaque at the National POW Museum in Andersonville, Georgia, which names 9 of the 11, including Normand Brissette.

    But a Japanese historian named Shigeaki Mori, himself a survivor of the Hiroshima A-blast, has worked almost single-handedly since the 1970s to memorialize the 11 American POWs killed in Hiroshima. In 1998, he dedicated a memorial plaque honoring these men on the site where they died. He has also led efforts to get their names added to official listings of A-bomb victims, contacting American family members when possible.

    In 2002, Mori succeeded in getting Brissette’s name added to the official list of Hiroshima Atomic Bomb victims.

    When reporters for Stars and Stripes Pacific Edition contacted Normand’s sister, Connie Provencher in Dracut regarding Mori’s efforts, she said, ”It’s gratifying to me that they are recognizing my brother. He was only 19 when he died fighting for his country. He died from the bomb’s radiation and it was an excruciating death. My brother will be forever young because he gave us all his tomorrows.”

    David Rubin is a retired faculty member from the College of Public and Community Service at UMass-Boston.

    s death?

    On the morning of Aug. 6, 1945, Brissette, a 19-year-old Navy airman from Lowell, was one of 11 American POWs being held at Chugoku Military Police Headquarters in the center of Hiroshima. All were members of Air Force B-24 or Navy dive-bomber crews who had been captured after parachuting when their planes were shot down by Japanese anti-aircraft fire on July 28.

    The prison was about 1,300 feet from ground zero. Like everyone killed at Hiroshima, these men could never have imagined the force that was about to annihilate them when the first atomic bomb ever used against a human population exploded in an airburst above them exactly 45 seconds after it had been released from the Enola Gay at 8:15 a.m.

    Most of the American POWs must have perished almost instantly, but Brissette and another man, Air Force Sergeant Ralph Neal, didn’t die at once. They suffered severe radiation burns and were somehow moved to a different location, where other American POWs futilely tried to look after them. Brissette and Neal survived in torment for 13 days and died on Aug. 19.

    Even today, most Americans are unaware that American POWs were also victims of the atomic bombs.

    At Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery in Missouri, there is a symbolic common grave at Section 82, Gravesite 156, that lists eight of their names. Brissette’s is not among them, though Neal’s is.

    There is no memorial plaque stating who these men were or how they died. Only the death date listed on their common grave, Aug. 6, 1945, might make a passerby pause to wonder about them.

    Even the national cemetery official at Jefferson Barracks with whom I spoke had no idea of the significance of this gravesite until I explained it to him. None of this is an accident. We cannot remember Brissette if we never knew he existed. Like the bomb, secrecy is a potent weapon.

    For at least 35 years after the war ended, these Hiroshima POW deaths were kept secret by the US government. Not even immediate family members were informed how their loved ones died. It wasn’t until the 1980’s that researchers using the Freedom of Information Act began to uncover the stories of these atomic ”friendly fire” victims.

    There were almost certainly additional American POWs killed in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, along with hundreds of Allied POWs from Australia, the Netherlands, and Great Britain. Between 1,000 and 2,000 Japanese-Americans trapped in Japan by the war were killed. Thousands of slave laborers from China, Manchuria, the Philippines, and conquered European colonies in South Asia were killed. About 30,000 Korean slave laborers were killed.

    In all, some 200,000 to 250,000 people in Hiroshima and Nagasaki were killed instantly or within three months. Of these, 35,000-50,000 were non-Japanese.

    These numbers don’t draw attention from the enormous suffering of the Japanese. Instead, they reveal how all humanity became fused as victims of these first two nuclear blasts.

    While the 11 American POWs killed in Hiroshima are a tiny fraction of all victims, they bear ghostly witness to the still unlearned lesson that nuclear weapons are not only weapons of mass destruction, but weapons of self-destruction as well.

    There are only two memory points for these POWs on American soil. One is Common Gravesite 156. The other is a memorial plaque at the National POW Museum in Andersonville, Georgia, which names 9 of the 11, including Normand Brissette.

    But a Japanese historian named Shigeaki Mori, himself a survivor of the Hiroshima A-blast, has worked almost single-handedly since the 1970s to memorialize the 11 American POWs killed in Hiroshima. In 1998, he dedicated a memorial plaque honoring these men on the site where they died. He has also led efforts to get their names added to official listings of A-bomb victims, contacting American family members when possible.

    In 2002, Mori succeeded in getting Brissette’s name added to the official list of Hiroshima Atomic Bomb victims.

    When reporters for Stars and Stripes Pacific Edition contacted Normand’s sister, Connie Provencher in Dracut regarding Mori’s efforts, she said, ”It’s gratifying to me that they are recognizing my brother. He was only 19 when he died fighting for his country. He died from the bomb’s radiation and it was an excruciating death. My brother will be forever young because he gave us all his tomorrows.”

    David Rubin is a retired faculty member from the College of Public and Community Service at UMass-Boston.

  • The History of My Peace Activities with an A-bomb Survivor and Student Peace Fellows

    I have dreamed of participating in Sadako Peace Day ever since I learned that the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation commemorates August 6th every year. The reason why I have not been able to attend this ceremony is that I have always been in Hiroshima on the same day. After my first meeting with an atomic bomb survivor of Hiroshima, Miyoko Matsubara, I organized a college student volunteer group and visited Hiroshima for three days including on August 6th to study peace. This encounter with one Hibakusha, or an A-bomb survivor, changed my life dramatically. I would like to share with you a brief history of my peace activities with a Hibakusha and Japanese students, my fellow peace companions.

    It was the winter of 1996 that Miyoko came to my university, Soka University in Tokyo, Japan, to share her life story. I was a senior at that time. Even though I had learned about Hiroshima and Nagasaki in school, I had little knowledge about the issue; I knew that thousands of innocent people were killed instantly and that still many survivors suffer from radiation exposure. But I didn’t know why it really happed and how survivors have struggled to live. So, it was the first time for me to hear a first hand experience from a Hibakusha. I was so furious about the brutality of nuclear weapons and felt the urgent need to do something so that the same mistake will not be repeated. Then, I decided to take action by supporting her peace activities. I decided to go to Hiroshima, believing that I should visit the very place where the atomic bomb was dropped to know what really happened.

    The next year, in spring of 1997, 9 students, including myself, and one American professor went to Hiroshima. We called this trip “Peace Trip to Hiroshima.” We visited the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum, Peace Memorial Park and Okuno Island, where the Japanese army developed poison gas during World War II. We thought that visiting Okuno Island was important in order to know that Japan was an aggressor, not only a victim in terms of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. We also met several Hibakushas and heard their testimonies. Through this trip, we deepened our conviction that nuclear weapons are totally against humanity, and we have to abolish them before all living beings will be exterminated.

    Soon after coming back from Hiroshima, I graduated from university and remained in contact with Miyoko to help her peace activities, including translating Miyoko’s letters both into English and Japanese, helping write drafts of Miyoko’s letters and speeches, traveling overseas with her as an assistant/ translator several times, and so forth. What has amazed me most is Miyoko’s power of spirit. Physically, she is very sick; she had breast cancer caused by radiation. Now there are two polyps in her stomach that might turn into another cancer someday. So, she has “bombs” inside her body. However, since she has a strong sense of mission that telling her experience will help abolish nuclear weapons, she continuously talks to people both in Japanese and English, and in Japan and overseas.

    In fall of 1997, the same year that I went to Hiroshima for the first time, Miyoko offered me a chance to travel to the US with her. One of the destinations of our trip was the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation. Greatly impressed by Dr. David Krieger, president of Nuclear Age Peace Foundation’s personality, his passion for peace, and the Foundation’s dedication for peace activities, I decided to establish a student peace advocate group, which would support the Foundation’s activities, at Soka University from which I graduated. Then, in the following year, in 1998, I established the Friends of Nuclear Age Peace Foundation with students. Since the establishment, as an advisor, I have coordinated several activities with students: conducting “Peace Trip to Hiroshima” in every August, translating the Foundation’s information into Japanese and putting it on our web site, and holding study groups. One of the biggest accomplishments was when our student government passed “The Abolition 2000 Soka University Campus Resolution” last year. This is our pledge that we oppose nuclear weapons, the evil weapons of mass destruction. In order to pass the resolution, we organized several seminars, aiming for students’ conscious rising, invited Miyoko to share her experience, and collected signatures to support passing the resolution.

    Through these activities, I have learned that students possess a profound potential to become a strong source for social change. My mentor, Daisaku Ikeda, the founder of Soka University and the recipient of the World Citizenship Award in 1999 by the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation, says that “[Mahatma] Gandhi proclaimed that the ‘power of the spirit’ is stronger than any atomic bomb. To transform this century of war into a century of peace, we must cultivate the limitless inherent power of human life. This is the ‘human revolution’.” I found that this “human revolution”, namely the inner transformation or strengthening life condition, which never succumbs to injustice, in the level of each individual is the assured way that will lead to create a world without nuclear weapons. In order to cultivate our strong self, we need to carry on hope, a hope that we can change the world. This is what Sadako had done until the very moment of her death. With hope that folding 1000 cranes would bring her longer life, Sadako continued folding cranes on her sickbed. Even though she died young, her hope and her “power of spirit” have been passed on from generation to generation.

    Finally, I would like to end my speech with one of my favorite poems written by Dr. Krieger. This is a poem dedicated to young people worldwide.

    You are a miracle, entirely unique. There has never been another With your combination of talents, dreams, and hopes. You can create. You are capable of love and compassion. You are a miracle. You are a gift of creation to itself. You are here for a purpose which you must find. Your presence here is sacred-and you will Change the world.

    Thank you very much!

  • Memories of the Trinity Bomb, Reflections of the 7th Annual Sadako Peace Day

    Fifty-six years ago the United States dropped an atomic bomb on Hiroshima and the world was changed. Humankind lives the legacy of the events of the summer of 1945 in countless ways, great and small, personal and political. The end of the Cold War did not halt the fierce global race for more powerful armaments. And today, as citizens of the United States, as members of the world community, we face many great and grave decisions about the future, concerning missile defense, arms control and test ban treaties, the international proliferation of nuclear weapons and the development of, and trade in, weapons material, nuclear, biological and chemical. It is difficult not to despair of the overwhelming amount of work to be done.

    However, this afternoon, in a garden dedicated to children and to peace, I would like to put aside these daunting challenges and look to the sacredness of the small and the power of place to transform our lives. I am reminded of Mother Theresa’s statement, “We can do no great things, only small things with great love.”

    This is the seventh ceremony to be held in this garden, on these benches, dedicated to Sadako Sasaki, one of the millions of children we lost to the twentieth century’s brutal wars. This garden has come to have personal significance for me, and for many like me, who have found moments of inner quietude in the shelter of the Tree of Faith. My husband, Joseph, and I have come to the Immaculate Heart Center on retreat over the last six years, and I have learned many things from the Tree of Faith. Several years ago, I was looking at the very top, at the fragile new leaves opening there. And I realized that those leaves, growing from the majesty of this sturdy trunk and these strong branches, were as young, as fresh, as the smallest seedling growing in the brush. This was a lesson to me about history, about aging, about the past giving birth to the future. This regal tree delicately recreating itself through time- God’s grace at work in small things.

    So, this afternoon, let us renew ourselves, and rededicate our lives to peace.

    Several years ago, I realized that in order for me to deepen my understanding of what it might mean to invent a peace that has never existed in humankind’s history, I had first to deepen my understanding of the legacy of war in my own life. Thus, an explanation of the title of my comments is in order. Memories of the Trinity Bomb is the name of a Japanese documentary film about me and my search for the moral legacy of the atomic bomb, as the daughter of Manhattan Project scientists. Last fall, a Japanese documentary maker, Yoshihiko Muraki, read portions of my book, Atomic Fragments: A Daughter’s Questions, and was inspired to tell Japanese people the story of my quest in search of the personal meaning of the bomb in the lives of the scientists who created it.

    Mr. Muraki told me that there is a great gap between Japanese and American understandings of the atomic bomb. Japanese people, he said, see themselves as victims of the bomb, Americans see the bomb as having ended a brutal war. My words spoke to him across that gap, and he hopes that his film, which premiered last night on Japanese television, will be a step toward bridging understandings between our peoples-another small thing.

    This past spring, I spent more than thirty days with the Japanese film crew, traveling to Manhattan Project sites around the country, and to other places of personal and historical significance. The first place we visited together was the Trinity site in New Mexico, where the atomic bomb was first tested in July 1945. The last place we visited together was this garden.

    Although I was born four years after the end of the war, I do have very real “memories of the Trinity bomb.” I grew up with pictures of the Trinity test. My mother, with an undergraduate degree in physics, was an optics expert, and a member of the Los Alamos team that developed the photographic equipment for the test. I have a vivid childhood memory of studying the photographs of that test, famous pictures that many of you have no doubt seen, of the silvery bubble that was the deadly fire ball, expanding into the towering mushroom cloud.

    Then, three years ago, while doing research for my book, I visited Trinity. The site is only open to the public twice a year, and thousands of people came. I was alone among the crowds. At the obelisk marking ground zero, I witnessed a young Japanese woman weeping.

    As I wrote in Atomic Fragments, I was struck by the sacredness of the place, somehow representing not only the lives and deaths of the bomb’s victims, but the lives and deaths of all victims of war. I silently walked the great circle around ground zero, wondering if my prayers had the power to relieve past suffering.

    After Trinity, I drove up to Santa Fe. The next day was Sunday, and I walked to the cathedral, where mass was being said. Listening to the message of Christian loving kindness, I felt a lonely, deep despair. I could not imagine how, with all of our differences, it would ever be possible for the planet’s peoples to understand each other. How would the world ever be free of war? But following on that, I was graced with the smallest sense of hope. And at that moment, a nascent feeling, the conviction that there is something in our humanity that binds us together, was the only thing I was sure of.

    I never expected to visit Trinity again. However, when the Japanese film makers read my description of ground zero, they asked me to return there with them. There were eight of us at the Trinity site last April, along, with our military escort. There were no crowds, just eight of us, dwarfed by the desolate enormity of the stormy New Mexican wilderness and the memories imprinted on its landscape. I became aware that I was embarking, with them, on a new spiritual journey. They asked what I remembered, and what I felt. Again, I walked the circumference of ground zero, but I was no longer alone. I was accompanied, being observed, interpreted, and listened to.

    Our understandings of the place and time were very different. We were sometimes surprised by each other’s questions and observations, careful about each other’s feelings, judgmental of each other’s actions, and vulnerable to each other’s judgments. But in being there, in experiencing that place together, in examining the fearsome history that joins us, we consented to learn from each other, and in each others’ presence. Our understandings were filtered through our cultures, but by assenting to experience Trinity together, we were united in ITS space and time.

    The last place we visited together was this garden. I had written about attending the dedication on August 6, 1995, and Mr. Muraki wanted to film me here. So, in June, Joseph and I brought our Japanese colleagues, that they might experience its gentle refuge-a space so far from Trinity site. A tiny oasis capable of holding an infinity of prayers. I told them about the dedication of the benches on the fiftieth anniversary of Hiroshima, about Stella Matsuda’s Dance of a Thousand Cranes-Up From Ashes, which she performed in the chapel. I told them about returning here over the years, and even recited a poem I had composed one night under a full moon.

    And so we came to the end of our journey-thirty days together over a three month period. I do not know if, as Mr. Muraki hoped, the story of the daughter of Manhattan Project scientists will speak, in human terms, to the Japanese general public. But I am certain that during our difficult and gratifying time together we took steps toward each other.

    After filming here, we went to my home in Oak View. I motioned to Mr. Muraki that I wished to show him a little garden, sheltered by an old oak tree, where I love to sit. Mr. Muraki speaks some English, but I speak no Japanese. There were two chairs in different sections of the lawn. After some few moments of trying to communicate, I understood that he was asking me in which chair I liked to sit. I showed him. He sat down, and looked out at the mountains in silence.

    There he stayed for many minutes-longer than I had anticipated he would. He was making a gentle gesture, discovering a window into my life, and opening for me, a window into his. A small moment of peace.

    I would like to close by relating my earliest memory of A Thousand Cranes. But first, some background: At Los Alamos, my father worked on the electronics of the bomb’s trigger mechanism. During the war, he advocated a demonstration of the bomb to compel the Japanese surrender. After the war, he never again worked on weapons and dedicated himself to peaceful scientific pursuits, to political and social action, and to building relationships with scientists worldwide, particularly in Japan.

    In the early 1960s, he hosted a young Japanese postdoctoral fellow at Brookhaven National Laboratory. Dr. Wakuta stayed in the United States for one year, and every day of that year, at home in Japan, his wife and young daughter folded three origami cranes as a prayer for his safe return. At the end of a year, they had made one thousand cranes, and once back home, Dr. Wakuta sent the cranes to my parents. Although I did not discuss it with my mother and father at the time, I now wonder if the gift of a Thousand Cranes was not an allusion to the bomb, a gesture of reconciliation, a prayer of forgiveness.

    It is a gift I remember even today-a small thing. One thousand fragile folded cellophane birds of blue, yellow, red, purple, green, suspended in long strands from a flat woven disk.

    Sadako’s cranes had flown around the world. And they continue their flight today, recreated now and into the future, by our hands and our hearts, as we bind ourselves to Sadako’s dream of peace, her small act of great love.

    Mary Palevsky, Ph.D. marypalevsky@cs.com

    Atomic Fragments: A Daughter’s Questions University of California Press, 2000 http://www.ucpress.edu/books/pages/8743.html