The force was so intense that shadows of fences and obliterated
bodies left silhouettes upon the stone and asphalt in August
1945.
Sixty years later, the buildings have been reconstructed. The
scorched flesh of the surviving children has healed. People have
stopped weeping. Memories have grown cloudy. But the shadows of the
atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki remain.
Talking about the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki
always incites the same controversy: Was the dropping of the atomic
bombs really necessary to stop World War II?
But the past is past. There is something more important to glean
from this event.
The solutions of that moment have serious consequences that we
as a nation don’t really take into account. Our
country’s afflicted with the teenage syndrome of supposed
immortality and invincibility.
Whether you think it was to end the war quickly and save lives,
or because Americans saw the Japanese as racially subhuman and
wanted to establish U.S. strength in the region, many, perhaps even
President Truman who gave the order, did not fully comprehend the
effects, despite previous test bombings in barren deserts.
“Suppose Germany had developed two bombs before we had any
bombs,” said Leo Szilard in 1960, a scientist who played a
major role in the development of the atomic bomb. “And
suppose Germany had dropped one bomb, say, on Rochester and the
other on Buffalo. … Can anyone doubt that we would then have
defined the dropping of atomic bombs on cities as a war
crime?”
Not only did the first-ever use of the weapons spur other
nations to catch up in the arms race, but minutes of history
adversely affected generations of a people.
Despite official statements claiming no genetic damage from the
radiation of the atomic bomb, many still suspect that there are
adverse genetic effects. Even so, second-generation survivors are
stigmatized for their supposed propensity of having mutated
children.
But the unnecessary excess of human tragedy overwhelms all
else.
After the bombings, many across the world came to a consensus
that weapons of such caliber should never be used again.
We can understand and accept the dangers of cause and effect
when it is applied to extreme situations such as nuclear
destruction. But the real lesson in Hiroshima and Nagasaki is that
cause and effect applies to everything we do.
Did we stop to think after the Sept. 11, 2001 terrorist attacks
when our need to end terrorism immediately allowed our government
and citizens to turn on and interrogate members of the Muslim
communities?
Such actions have led to the cruel treatment of thousands of
innocent American citizens.
We were in such a hurry to rid Iraq of its alleged weapons of
destruction. Now here we are, entrenched in a two-year battle that
a large number of people no longer wish to fight. But we feel
trapped, with no choice but to forge ahead.
And today, civilians have taken it upon themselves to solve the
perceived immigration problem and patrol the U.S.-Mexico border in
Minutemen groups.
Vigilantes must feel more welcome now that they have had so much
support, but no matter how many undocumented immigrants they stop,
are they really solving anything?
It is only fair to the thousands upon thousands of our fellow
humans in Japan who suffered at our mercy that we learn something
valuable and then apply that wisdom.
Nuclear bombs and border patrols may not seem like they are on
the same page. But they both affect the world in lasting ways, like
the shadows imprinted over Hiroshima.
For our species’ sake, I hope that we are able to mature
beyond the teenage mentality and stop casting shadows over others
without considering that it will spread to us all.
Nguyen was the 2004-2005 editor in chief of Pacific
Ties.