Nuclear Age Peace Foundation

Tag: WWII

  • 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.”

  • Reflections on War and Its Consequences

    The shift of the Iraq War from what its early proponents claimed would be a cakewalk to what most current observers—including the small group of neocons who originally championed it—consider a disaster suggests that war’s consequences are not always predictable.

    Some wars, admittedly, work out fairly well—at least for the victors. In the third of the Punic Wars (149-146 B.C.), Rome’s victory against Carthage was complete, and it obliterated that rival empire from the face of the earth. For the Carthaginians, of course, the outcome was less satisfying. Rome’s victorious legions razed the city of Carthage and sowed salt in its fields, thereby ensuring that what had been a thriving metropolis would become a wasteland.

    But even the victors are not immune to some unexpected and very unpleasant consequences. World War I led to 30 million people killed or wounded and disastrous epidemics of disease, plus a multibillion dollar debt that was never repaid to U.S. creditors and, ultimately, fed into the collapse of the international financial system in 1929. The war also facilitated the rise of Communism and Fascism, two fanatical movements that added immensely to the brutality and destructiveness of the twentieth century. Certainly, World War I didn’t live up to Woodrow Wilson’s promises of a “war to end war” and a “war to make the world safe for democracy.”

    Even World War II—the “good war”—was not all it is frequently cracked up to be. Yes, it led to some very satisfying developments, most notably the destruction of the fascist governments of Germany, Italy, and Japan. But people too often forget that it had some very negative consequences. These include the killing of 50 million people, as well as the crippling, blinding, and maiming of millions more. Then, of course, there was also the genocide carried out under cover of the war, the systematic destruction of cities and civilian populations, the ruin of once-vibrant economies, the massive violations of civil liberties (e.g. the internment of Japanese-Americans in concentration camps), the establishment of totalitarian control in Eastern Europe, the development and use of nuclear weapons, and the onset of the nuclear arms race. This grim toll leaves out the substantial number of rapes, mental breakdowns, and postwar murders unleashed by the war.

    The point here is not that World War II was “bad,” but that wars are not as clean or morally pure as they are portrayed.

    Curiously, pacifists have long been stereotyped as sentimental and naive. But haven’t the real romantics of the past century been the misty-eyed flag-wavers, convinced that the next war will build a brave new world? Particularly in a world harboring some 30,000 nuclear weapons, those who speak about war as if it consisted of two noble knights, jousting before cheering crowds, have lost all sense of reality.

    This lack of realism about the consequences of modern war is all too pervasive. During the Cuban missile crisis, it led Defense Secretary Robert McNamara to warn top U.S. national security officials against their glib proposal to bomb the Soviet missile sites. That’s not the end, he insisted. That’s just the beginning! After the crisis, President Kennedy was delighted that war with the Soviet Union had been averted—a war that he estimated would have killed 300 million people.

    How do we account for the romantic view of war that seems to overcome portions of society on a periodic basis? Certainly hawkish government officials, economic elites, and their backers in the mass media have contributed to popular feeble-mindedness when it comes to war’s consequences. And rulers of empires tend to become foolish when presented with supreme power. But it is also true that some people revel in what they assume is the romance of war as a welcome escape from their humdrum daily existence. Nor should this surprise us, for they find similar escape in romantic songs and novels, movies, spectator sports, and, sometimes, in identification with a “strong” leader.

    Of course, war might just be a bad habit—one that is difficult to break after persisting for thousands of years. Even so, people will give it up only when they confront its disastrous consequences. And this clear thinking about war might prove difficult for many of them, at least as long as they prefer romance to reality.

    Dr. Wittner is Professor of History at the State University of New York, Albany. His latest book is Toward Nuclear Abolition: A History of the World Nuclear Disarmament Movement, 1971 to the Present (Stanford University Press).

     

    First published on the History News Network.

  • “The White Rose”: Student Resistance in Germany During WWII

    On Friday, August 17, the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation was honored with the presence and words of Dr. George Wittenstein, a “core” member of a group of very close friends that later became known as “The White Rose” resistance group. In the past decade there has been a revival in the attention given to “The White Rose,” which promoted the resistance to Nazi ideology during Adolf Hitler’s Third Reich. According to Dr. Wittenstein, much of the published accounts regarding “The White Rose” contain inaccuracies, in some cases being entirely incorrect. It is for this reason that Dr. Wittenstein has made it a goal for the remainder of his life to contribute whatever he can to aid in setting the record straight.

    An exhibit on resistance in Germany at UCLA sponsored by the German government at which Dr. Wittenstein was invited to speak was an example of insufficient historical research. Before the exhibit was opened to the public, he was given a chance to see it for himself. To his dismay, pictures of his friends in “The White Rose” had been mislabeled and the only successful military putsch (revolt) against Hitler was not even mentioned (another fact that often goes unmentioned is that “The White Rose” was the only group which addressed the treatment and extermination of Jews). At the last minute, Dr Wittenstein changed his original speech to address these inaccuracies. A reporter approached him that day after his revised speech from the LA Times who remarked, “once a rebel, always a rebel.”

    Dr. Wittenstein stressed the fact that in most democratic societies today it is impossible for people to even begin to comprehend the oppressive nature of Hitler’s total dictatorship, which makes it difficult to explain. The Nazi party was extremely efficient in establishing itself as the new government and within days of Hitler’s appointment as Chancellor, the Nazis had taken control over every aspect of public life. Every city block had an informer who reported any “suspicious” activity to the Gestapo (secret police). Communication was monitored to such an extent that in one case, Dr Wittenstein recalled, while sitting in a theater watching the news, a man was arrested by the Gestapo. No doubt he must have made a negative comment about the regime.

    Under these conditions, any form of resistance was extremely dangerous and finding allies was impossible for all practical purposes. Without open communication resistance groups had no way of knowing if other groups even existed. It was not until after the war that Dr. Wittenstein discovered that approximately three hundred other groups had been operating in Germany at the time. In the early years of Hitler’s regime, there were youth groups (similar to the US Boy Scouts) called “Buendische Jugend” throughout Germany and Europe until the mid-1930s when Hitler banned them and forced their members into the ranks of his new “Hitler Youth.” To add to the difficulty of mobilizing an opposition against a total dictatorship, the majority of the German people had been indoctrinated with Nazi propaganda. This “education” began as early as age four, and was intensified for the older children in the “Hitler Youth” program, in which membership became mandatory in the late 1930s. What must be noted though, is that it was not until near the war’s end that the truth of the atrocities being committed by the Nazis was known. Instead, the German public was presented with lies and false hope in the form of propaganda glorifying Hitler.

    The friends of “The White Rose” were middle-class students with parents who shared their anti-Nazi sentiment. They had access to the “truth,” as Dr. Wittenstein explained, in the form of radio broadcasts and literature from Switzerland (which was politically neutral) and the BBC. Once the war had started, listening to foreign radio stations was punishable by death. Since all communication in Germany was monitored, as well as any literary or artistic works deemed by Hitler as “degenerate” being forbidden, resistance groups relied on “underground” sources of information.

    In 1938, the year he considers the true beginning of “The White Rose,” Dr. Wittenstein met Alexander Schmorell while serving his two-year mandatory military training. In their barracks the two 19-year-olds discussed resistance as well as common academic interests and became close friends. One of the few accounts that Dr. Wittenstein acknowledged as correctly stated throughout all books written about “The White Rose,” was this quote by Alexander Schmorell: “Maybe ten years from now there will be a plaque on this door [of the barracks] which will read: ‘This is where the revolution began’.”

    After their service ended in 1939, the two men attended the University of Munich where they met Hans Scholl and Hellmut Hartert. Christoph Probst, a student and father of two (very uncommon for students at the time) joined later and became Dr. Wittenstein’s closest friend. This “tightly knit” group of friends was for the most part apolitical medical students, discussing more academic issues such as philosophy and art. After the war, in an effort to memorialize her siblings, Inge Scholl, the elder sister of Hans and Sophie, wrote mostly about them in her book entitled “The White Rose”. This led to the now commonly accepted perception that the others who contributed equally and who were also executed played insignificant roles. As the group of friends became more aware of the horrific deeds of the Nazis, they realized the need for action. The only method possible was by writing and distributing leaflets, which was much more dangerous than one would think. Purchasing mass amounts of paper and stamps immediately roused suspicion. In 1942 the first four leaflets were written by Schmorell and Scholl, the first and fourth almost entirely by Scholl, Wittenstein edited the third and fourth leaflets. These leaflets were very idealistic and implied a more passive approach to resistance. Quoting many famous philosophers, they were targeted toward the intellectual community.

    After a philosophy professor missed two lectures with no explanation, Wittenstein and a painter friend led about fifty fellow students to the university President’s office to demand the whereabouts of the teacher. The President, who was visibly disturbed and frightened, because such action was unheard of in Nazi Germany, denied any knowledge Dr. Wittenstein and his friend then led the group of students on a “sympathy demonstration” through the streets of Munich to the professor’s apartment. Such an open protest (in broad daylight) was until then unthinkable. The student unrest was growing.

    As was true for all medical students, the friends were drafted into the military but permitted to continue their studies in uniform. In the summer of 1942 they were sent to serve at the Russian front where they gained a new member and friend, Willi Graf. While in Russia, they were exposed to the true extent of the atrocities being committed by the Nazis. Because of Schmorell’s ability to speak the language, they had frequent interaction with the Russian people and came to realize that they were genuinely good-natured, despite Hitler’s propaganda describing them barbaric animals. Upon their return from Russia, Wittenstein felt that the passive, philosophical approach was not enough and pushed for more active resistance. A fifth leaflet was written that took this new approach, but it unfortunately required an enormous sacrifice. The group now realized that in order to save their beloved country, Germany must lose the war as soon as possible.

    As more students became aware of the true intentions of Hitler’s plan, the resentment increased. At the University of Munich one event sparked an almost total riot. The Gauleiter (a Nazi appointed head-of-state) of Bavaria delivered a speech at the university in which he berated the female students for continuing their studies, while instead they should be producing children for Hitler’s “master race.” He went so far as to offer access to his male staff if they were unable to find a boyfriend on their own. Obviously outraged, the female students attempted to walk out but were stopped and arrested by Gestapo guards. The male students revolted and took the stage, holding the leader of the Nazi student organization hostage until the women were allowed to leave.

    After the disappearance of his first professor, Dr. Wittenstein found a new mentor for his Ph.D thesis in psychology in Professor Kurt Huber, who agreed with the ideals of “The White Rose” and active resistance. In February of 1943 came the fall of Stalingrad and the printing of the sixth and final leaflet. In another example of misrepresentation, many sources claim that the students wrote the sixth leaflet, when in fact Professor Huber himself wrote it.

    On February 18, 1943, the final leaflet was distributed. Hans Scholl and his younger sister, Sophie (who had joined the group despite Hans’ insistence on her safety), clandestinely placed the leaflet throughout the University of Munich. As they left the building they must have realized that they had a few copies remaining and went back inside to drop them into the courtyard from above. They were spotted by a janitor and were immediately arrested. In the following months all but one suspected of being associated with “The White Rose” were arrested.

    During his arrest, a draft leaflet written by Christoph Probst was found in Hans Scholl’s pocket, which he tried in vain to tear up and swallow. Christoph Probst was promptly arrested and stood trial with the Scholl siblings. Hitler’s “Peoples Court,” which was established to eliminate his enemies (usually by death sentences), flew to Munich from its usual venue in Berlin only four days after the arrests to hold the trial. After a very brief trial, Hans and Sophie Scholl and Christoph Probst were immediately executed by guillotine. Alexander Schmorell, Willi Graf, and Professor Kurt Huber were tried by the People’s Court in April of the same year and executed later. In his defense, Huber gave a speech in which he stated, “…I demand the freedom of the German people…”

    Having been warned that the Gestapo was once again tracking him Dr. Wittenstein requested transfer to the Italian front, which was out of the range Gestapo jurisdiction and saved him from prosecution. He had already been involved with the “Freiheitsaktion Bayern,” a Bavarian resistance group that later carried out the only successful putsch against Hitler (as mentioned above, this is yet another historical fact that has been distorted, in this case being completely omitted). Dr. Rupprecht Gerngross, a commander of an unarmed interpreters unit, managed to weed out Nazi supporters under his command, whom he promptly sent to Russia. The unit obtained a huge arsenal of light weapons (grenades, rifles, etc.). It was in Italy, that Dr. Wittenstein collected diverse weapons and had them transported to this group in Munich. With the help of a like-minded tank commander and his unit, this group overtook the main radio station and disarmed all bridges leading into the city. As the US forces reached Munich, the resistance group announced over the radio that the citizens must wave white flags in surrender and arrest all the “little Nazis” before they could escape. In this way, Munich was spared total destruction by resisting Hitler’s order that every city must be defended to the last man.

    This is, of course, only a brief overview of the story of “The White Rose,” as Dr. Wittenstein explained, but for myself it had a significant impact, as my mother was born in 1939 near Munich. As a child she witnessed the bombing of her hometown and still recalls running for shelter amidst the flames and destruction. Because of the emotional nature of the topic, she, like Dr. Wittenstein, is usually somewhat reluctant to discuss the past. Both her older brother and father served in the German military, but only her father, an interpreter, survived. Her older brother, Otto, was a fighter pilot for the “Luftwaffe” (German Airforce) and was killed in battle in 1944. As a young boy, I was passionate about flying, so too was my uncle. I remember my mother sitting me down and showing me photos of her older brother when he was close to my age at the time and how emotionally difficult it was for her. He and his friends, being only 13 or 14 years old, had built full-scale gliders that they would launch and pilot from the hilltops of Bavaria. These same friends, only four or five years later were flying warplanes, most of them never returning.

    It was not until recently, when I told her that Dr. Wittenstein was coming to speak about “The White Rose,” that I really discussed the war again with my mother. After looking through the old photos again, I realized that my uncle and his friends probably built those gliders as part of their training in the “Hitler Youth” (after noticing the swastikas painted on the planes and the officer accompanying them). As impressionable young boys, they were undoubtedly filled with enthusiasm as they built and flew their own aircraft. As they began flying for the “Luftwaffe” as trained fighter pilots, the faces in the pictures began to change. In a matter of a few years, the enthusiastic young boys began to look like weary old men. According to my mother, my uncle in particular became disillusioned as he realized the futility of Hitler’s war.

    As Dr. Wittenstein talked about the female students’ revolt at the University of Munich, it reminded me of stories my mother told me of Hitler’s plans for the German women to provide him with as many offspring as possible. Hitler declared that he would be the Godfather of every family’s fourth child, and upon bearing a fifth child, the mother would receive a gold medal.

    After speaking with my mother and hearing Dr. Wittenstein, I can only hope that I have gained some further understanding of the hardships endured by those living under Hitler’s dictatorship. I do realize though, now better than before, that resisting oppression may be life threatening, but in extreme circumstances it is the only way to protect one’s freedom. The truth must be told and the people must listen.

  • Hiroshima’s Message: Wage Peace

    On August 6, 1945, the day Hiroshima was bombed with an atomic weapon, humanity walked through a door into an era in which our own annihilation as a species became possible.

    The bombing was a triumph of destructive technology. It sent a message that all cities would become vulnerable to instant devastation. And indeed, over the decades that followed Hiroshima, all cities did become vulnerable to annihilation.

    Nuclear “weapons” are not weapons in the traditional sense of being used to injure or kill enemy forces. Rather, they are devices capable of inflicting massive destruction on population centers, and taking countless innocent lives. In this sense, they are weapons of terrorists.

    The countries that possess nuclear weapons and base their security on the threat of their use do not ordinarily think of themselves as terrorist states, but by any reasonable definition of terrorism they are. They are states that threaten massive retaliation against civilian populations, in violation of the rules and norms of international law.

    There is only one way to assure a human future in which cities are not held hostage to the fate of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and that is by developing new methods of cooperation among nations and peoples. The logical place for this cooperation to take place is in the United Nations, the organization of the world’s nations created with the strong support and leadership of the United States.

    Franklin Roosevelt viewed the United Nations as essential if mankind were to avoid the “scourge of war” which twice in the first half of the 20th century had caused “untold sorrow.” After Roosevelt’s death in April1945, Harry Truman assured that his predecessor’s dream became a reality.

    In the 21st century, nuclear and other weapons of mass destruction can cause even worse consequences than “untold sorrow.” These weapons can cause unimaginable and unalterable silence; they are capable of bringing history to an end by bringing humankind and most other forms of life to an end. We should never lose sight of this. We should never become too comfortable or complacent with these destructive devices holding the potential for our shared demise.

    Missile defenses will not protect us. Such plans offer only comforting illusions. Nor will the threat of retaliation protect us. There will always be some who are too crazed or unreasonable to be deterred by threat of retaliation. There will always be the possibility of human error that leads us stumbling into a disastrous war.

    The only way out is to end the nuclear era by agreeing to the phased elimination of nuclear and other weapons of mass destruction. Such agreements must be solidly built with inspections and other means of verification. Such agreements among nations are possible, but they require leadership and particularly leadership from the United States, the world’s most powerful nation.

    We live in a nation in which government is “of the people, by the people and for the people.” Therefore, we, the people, can prevail if we make our voices heard. If the people of this country speak out with a strong voice, the United States could reassume leadership in the United Nations. We could help to build a world free of the threat of all weapons of mass destruction.

    This is a future worth believing in and fighting for. And the effort must begin with each of us. As Albert Camus, the great French writer and philosopher, said in reaction to learning of the bombing of Hiroshima, “Peace is the only battle worth waging. It is no longer a prayer, but an order which must rise up from peoples to their governments – the order to choose finally between hell and reason.”

    *David Krieger is president of the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation.

  • The Power of an Early Visit to the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum

    I first visited Hiroshima and its Peace Memorial Museum when I was 21 years old. The visit changed the course of my life.

     

    I was in Japan on an exchange program, and the program included a trip to Hiroshima around Hiroshima Day in 1963. I was apprehensive about going to Hiroshima. I thought the people of Hiroshima would be angry with Americans, probably hostile and perhaps even violent. After all, we Americans had dropped an atomic bomb on the city just 18 years before, killing well over 100,000 people.

     

    My fears proved to be unfounded. If the people of Hiroshima were hostile to Americans, they didn’t show it. They were kind and welcoming to young Americans, as were people throughout Japan.

     

    Here is what I had learned in high school and college about Hiroshima: The American military dropped an atomic bomb on the city, followed by the dropping of another atomic bomb on Nagasaki, and these bombings brought World War II to an end.

     

    Here is what I learned at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum when I was 21 years old: There were people under that bomb we dropped on Hiroshima. Most were civilians. The bomb slaughtered its victims, killing men, women and children indiscriminately. I also learned that many of the people killed by the bomb were burned alive, some were incinerated. These were powerful details – details that were certainly not emphasized in the story we learned in school in the United States.

     

    One of the strongest impressions on me was the shadow on the wall that was left behind where someone had been sitting at the time the bomb was dropped. The person was incinerated and only his shadow remained.

     

    Visiting the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum had a strong influence on my views on war, and particularly nuclear war. The museum, which was filled with artifacts and photographs, powerfully demonstrated the futility of nuclear warfare. Hiroshima’s past was eloquent testimony to an intolerable future.

     

    The course of my life made a subtle shift. I was set on a course of wanting to do something to end the tragedy of war. Later, when I returned to the United States, other events would solidify the shift in my life, particularly my experience in the army and my fight in court against orders to go to Vietnam.

     

    Some 20 years later I was a founder of the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation, where I have served as president for almost 20 years. Hiroshima has never left my mind. I have written many poems and articles about the tragedy that occurred there and its meaning for our lives. I have worked for the abolition of nuclear weapons. I have done all that I can to further this goal. I was a founder of Abolition 2000, now a global network of over 2000 organizations working to abolish nuclear weapons. I have traveled around the world speaking out for realizing the dream of Hiroshima and the survivors of the bombing — the abolition of nuclear weapons.

     

    I believe that museums matter. They capture moments in time and freeze them for the future to examine. Of course, it is important for museums to be honest. It is possible for museums to be deceptive by overt acts or by omission. There is a museum about the first atomic bombs that I visited at Kirtland Air Force Base in Albuquerque, New Mexico. That museum celebrates only the technology. There are no photographs or displays of the people who were killed and injured in the bombings. The museum is steely and antiseptic. In visiting this museum, one would have no emotional connection with or even knowledge of the suffering and death caused by the bombings.

     

    It would be more than 35 years before I visited the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum again. When I did return in 1998, it was to give a speech at the museum. I began my speech with these words: “It is with profound appreciation and gratitude that I return to this city of peace, this sacred city of Hiroshima. This city was made sacred not by the tragedy which befell it, but by the rebirth of hope which emerged from that tragedy. From the ashes of Hiroshima, flowers of hope have blossomed, bringing forth a renewed spirit of possibility, of peace, to a world in which hope has been too often crushed for too many.”

     

    In another visit to the museum early in the year 2000, the museum director, Minoru Hataguchi, showed my wife and me through the museum. He was carrying with him a small box. At one point, he stopped and opened the box. He told us that this was the first time he had shared the contents of the box with visitors to the museum. The box contained the pocket watch and belt buckle of his father. Mr. Hataguchi had been in utero when the bomb fell. His father had been a train conductor, and had been near ground zero. The pocket watch and belt buckle were all that his mother recovered. We were very moved that he shared his father’s story and the artifacts with us.

     

    In Fall 2000, our Foundation sponsored an exhibit in Santa Barbara, California from the Hiroshima and Nagasaki Peace Memorial Museums. Mr. Hataguchi was one of the representatives of the two cities that came to Santa Barbara to open the exhibit. By bringing the exhibit to our city, we were able to share with members of our community an important perspective on Hiroshima with which many were unacquainted.

     

    In 1995, the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation commemorated the 50th anniversary of the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki by creating a peace garden in our community. We called it Sadako Peace Garden after Sadako Sasaki, a young girl who had been exposed to the bombing of Hiroshima at age 2 and had died at age 12 of leukemia. Sadako had been inspired by the Japanese legend that one’s wish will come true if one folds 1,000 paper cranes, and she had attempted to fold paper cranes to regain her health and to further world peace. She wrote: “I will write peace on your wings, and you will fly all over the world.” Each year on August 6th, the Foundation holds a public event at Sadako Peace Garden to commemorate the anniversary of Hiroshima with music, poetry and reflection.

     

    I am quite certain that my first visit to Hiroshima at the age of 21 left a strong enough impression on me to guide the course of my life. I am dedicated to ending the nuclear weapons era, and bringing the spirit of Hiroshima and its survivors, the hibakusha, to people everywhere.

     

    If a visit to the Peace Memorial Museums in Hiroshima and Nagasaki were a requirement of office for all leaders of nuclear weapons states, it just might change the world.

     

    *David Krieger is President of the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation.