Hiroshima
By Austin J. Damiani
We humans are so minute and transient. The Holocaust, the bombing of Hiroshima, the lunar space walk, the collapse of the Berlin wall—these events are relevant to all humanity. These are historical movements, ideologies and events that do not belong to a single individual or country but are indicative of human evolution.
It was with this perspective that I went to Hiroshima. I didn’t want to go, but I knew I had to. Fully aware of the complex situation that had led to the dropping of the bomb, I was not particularly interested in the most quintessential of high school American history debates—whether or not we should have done it.
Of course we shouldn’t have. And of course, Japan shouldn’t have attacked Pearl Harbor or invaded Manchuria. And isn’t it painfully obvious that the Holocaust should not have happened? Jesus shouldn’t have been crucified, and the U.S. never should have set foot in the Philippines, Nicaragua, Cuba or anywhere else it wasn’t wanted.
What makes Hiroshima important? People are quick to cite the death toll of 130,000. What goes unsaid is that in 1945 in one nighttime firebombing raid of Dresden, then Germany’s largest city, an estimated 100,000 people perished. Incendiary bombing of Tokyo climaxed with the same figure on the night of March 9, 1945. And these were single raids within weeks of continual bombing.
But isn’t it petty to use body counts for emphasis? A body count does not explain Hiroshima’s relevance. Why is it more important than Dresden? Is it because it happened in an instant? Is it that humans for the first time tapped into “the power of the universe?” Or is it that they did so with the intent to kill?
I think it was inevitable that such a bomb would be developed. Atomic theory was coming to fruition; the discovery of the intrinsic power of the atom was in the collective subconscious of scientists. And in the last century, marked by war and genocide, it was inevitable that it would be used militarily.
In the ruins of the burned city, today’s Hiroshima, with its Peace Park, World Friendship Center and natural beauty, sends a clear and defiant message—a message of peace, not a painful memory of war. But in other places, particularly in the U.S., I hear only what should not have happened. It is when, in the words of Virgil, “darkness hides the heavens, and black night has taken away the colors of things” that reason gives way to fear, and despair lurks where once there was joy. Yet the night passes. And all too often, we, gripped by fear, forget to open our eyes and our minds upon its retreat.
At the time of this writing, AUSTIN J. DAMIANI was attending the Univ. of Minnesota. He wrote his commentary after visiting the Peace Memorial Park and Museum in Hiroshima. He studied abroad with the Friends World Program of Long Island Univ. in Kyoto, Japan from 2002-2003. Contact him at dami0016@umn.ed