Hiroshima - the reason we all know it.
Asked to name three cities in Japan and I would not be surprised if most people name Tokyo, Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The latter two instead of Kyoto, an imperial and cultural capital or Nara, the former capital of Japan. Hiroshima and Nagasaki are famous the world over, not for what treasures they hold now, but for what they lost and endured.
On August 6th at 8:15am, the first atomic bomb was used against mankind in Hiroshima. Without even looking at photos or memorials, my conscience has battled with being here and writing about this. For every person I tell, one in two will say "but the Japanese did bad things." To those people who can offer only simple arguments, I make the simple statement: All war is wrong.
In the hall of rememberance, sitting alone, in the quiet, not even yet witness to gruesome photographs, only reading some of the reserved words of survivors (hibakusha), I shiver. Hiroshima is a tragedy too immense to comprehend on so many levels. Having visited and taken an interest in many areas of conflict, I am used to seeing photos of damage, touching buildings, noting bullet marks, seeing destroyed buildings. There is no trail of destruction in Hiroshima. It was simply destroyed.
Only a few buildings near the epicentre remained. What is now known as the A Dome but was then a Promotioanal Hall, being the most significant. It's preserved as a memorial because of its location, its distinct shape and now as UNESCO world heritage site. Alongside it, black and white photos showing the nuclear wasteland we have come to associate with Hollywood. The only shape identifiable is the Dome. Along side it, a river which borders the Peace Park on three sides. By the river, an Italian woman, due to leave town today, has dragged her luggage from the tram in the heat. She wipes a tear.
I meet her again at the Students memorial, covered in paper cranes, so that we almost mistake it for Sadako's monument. Many students were mobilised during the war, working in demolition and factory jobs. Girls as well as boys at hard labour. Thousands of them were consequently at the epicentre of the bomb. Nearly all of them died. The Italian woman tells me, "I can't leave without seeing this".
Across the river, Sadako's monument, a girl a top it, a metal paper crane on the bell inside it. It is surrounded by tens of thousands of paper cranes from around the world. They spell out words, they make chains, the different colours form the word peace. The Italian retreats to get paper, and make her own token.
The park is littered with such monuments and statues. For poets, for the Koreans in forced labour that died in the bomb, for the Swiss Red Cross man who arrived to help. The cranes at each are not sunfaded. They are added to constantly. Japanese tour groups bow and pray in front of the cenotaph and eternal flame. For once, no cheesy photos from the usually trigger happy tourists. Instead a pack of Americans, photograph a teenage girl posing provocatively in front of Sadako's monument. She screams "I wanna do that again but this time in a kimono." It's all you can do to walk away.
The Peace Musuem delivers a strong message: no nukes. It admits Japan's wrongs openly and confesses to the needs to look at the history books of the nations it attacked to learn and teach how those countries felt. The Peace Hall put it in awkward diplomacy that the memorials were also for those who were "sacraficed in mistaken national policy."
Strange exhibits in the Peace Museum effect me. The hundreds of letters written by each mayor of Hiroshima to every foreign affairs minister whose country has tested nuclear weapons. There is no verbose lexicon in these letters. They say quite simply; as a major of a city whose people suffered, who was razed to its very foundations, I ask you - stop. The letters to the French are most heartfelt and pointed in using the words "again" and "continuously".
Small details that I am yet to confirm - and in Japan, I always will before taking it at as an acceptable version of the truth - that Japan was not advised that huge military action would take place should they not surrender to Potsdam, not even after Hiroshima, in the three days before Nagasaki. That not until after the two bombs was the country informed that the explosions were nuclear. That not until after Allied occupation, lasting six years and eight months, was information on nuclear and atomic bombs and their affects, particuarly medical available uncensored in Japan.
Hondori arcade, that I have traversed several times to find an internet cafe and find my way out again stands out from the photos. There it is in 1920's bustling with life and restaurants and entertainment. There it is hung with lily of the valley lights that people came to see from miles around. In the post-bomb photos there is nothing to indicate the shopping and nightlife area but a caption. It is indistinguishable in its devastation.
Who pushed the button? Who flew the plane? Who still lives with bomb-related illnesses? That man over sixty, is he hibakusha? That woman from Hiroshima are her parents alive or dead?
Visiting places like Hiroshima does not inform so that you can make conclusions. It does not illustrate a story with a point. It only serves to make you ask more questions.
On August 6th at 8:15am, the first atomic bomb was used against mankind in Hiroshima. Without even looking at photos or memorials, my conscience has battled with being here and writing about this. For every person I tell, one in two will say "but the Japanese did bad things." To those people who can offer only simple arguments, I make the simple statement: All war is wrong.
In the hall of rememberance, sitting alone, in the quiet, not even yet witness to gruesome photographs, only reading some of the reserved words of survivors (hibakusha), I shiver. Hiroshima is a tragedy too immense to comprehend on so many levels. Having visited and taken an interest in many areas of conflict, I am used to seeing photos of damage, touching buildings, noting bullet marks, seeing destroyed buildings. There is no trail of destruction in Hiroshima. It was simply destroyed.
Only a few buildings near the epicentre remained. What is now known as the A Dome but was then a Promotioanal Hall, being the most significant. It's preserved as a memorial because of its location, its distinct shape and now as UNESCO world heritage site. Alongside it, black and white photos showing the nuclear wasteland we have come to associate with Hollywood. The only shape identifiable is the Dome. Along side it, a river which borders the Peace Park on three sides. By the river, an Italian woman, due to leave town today, has dragged her luggage from the tram in the heat. She wipes a tear.
I meet her again at the Students memorial, covered in paper cranes, so that we almost mistake it for Sadako's monument. Many students were mobilised during the war, working in demolition and factory jobs. Girls as well as boys at hard labour. Thousands of them were consequently at the epicentre of the bomb. Nearly all of them died. The Italian woman tells me, "I can't leave without seeing this".
Across the river, Sadako's monument, a girl a top it, a metal paper crane on the bell inside it. It is surrounded by tens of thousands of paper cranes from around the world. They spell out words, they make chains, the different colours form the word peace. The Italian retreats to get paper, and make her own token.
The park is littered with such monuments and statues. For poets, for the Koreans in forced labour that died in the bomb, for the Swiss Red Cross man who arrived to help. The cranes at each are not sunfaded. They are added to constantly. Japanese tour groups bow and pray in front of the cenotaph and eternal flame. For once, no cheesy photos from the usually trigger happy tourists. Instead a pack of Americans, photograph a teenage girl posing provocatively in front of Sadako's monument. She screams "I wanna do that again but this time in a kimono." It's all you can do to walk away.
The Peace Musuem delivers a strong message: no nukes. It admits Japan's wrongs openly and confesses to the needs to look at the history books of the nations it attacked to learn and teach how those countries felt. The Peace Hall put it in awkward diplomacy that the memorials were also for those who were "sacraficed in mistaken national policy."
Strange exhibits in the Peace Museum effect me. The hundreds of letters written by each mayor of Hiroshima to every foreign affairs minister whose country has tested nuclear weapons. There is no verbose lexicon in these letters. They say quite simply; as a major of a city whose people suffered, who was razed to its very foundations, I ask you - stop. The letters to the French are most heartfelt and pointed in using the words "again" and "continuously".
Small details that I am yet to confirm - and in Japan, I always will before taking it at as an acceptable version of the truth - that Japan was not advised that huge military action would take place should they not surrender to Potsdam, not even after Hiroshima, in the three days before Nagasaki. That not until after the two bombs was the country informed that the explosions were nuclear. That not until after Allied occupation, lasting six years and eight months, was information on nuclear and atomic bombs and their affects, particuarly medical available uncensored in Japan.
Hondori arcade, that I have traversed several times to find an internet cafe and find my way out again stands out from the photos. There it is in 1920's bustling with life and restaurants and entertainment. There it is hung with lily of the valley lights that people came to see from miles around. In the post-bomb photos there is nothing to indicate the shopping and nightlife area but a caption. It is indistinguishable in its devastation.
Who pushed the button? Who flew the plane? Who still lives with bomb-related illnesses? That man over sixty, is he hibakusha? That woman from Hiroshima are her parents alive or dead?
Visiting places like Hiroshima does not inform so that you can make conclusions. It does not illustrate a story with a point. It only serves to make you ask more questions.
posted by Rowena at 3:08 pm
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