The Atomic Bomb Memorial

We intend to provide a little levity to our entries normally, but our visit to the atomic bomb museum is one occasion to avoid that.  To enter, you spiral down a ramp that takes you to the basement floor of the building.  The walls have been brushed in such a way that it looks like smoke is billowing up, a reminder of the smoking rubble the city was left in after the bomb was dropped.  We are left with a few very stark impressions, mostly the images of the aftermath: a photo of a woman breastfeeding a baby that has burns on its body (you learn that the baby later died,) a woman standing looking dazed next to the charred body/skeleton of man (maybe a boy) with mouth agape (I’m pretty sure that he died screaming), and a battered looking helmet with the rather casual caption of “Helmet, with skull fragments.”  I learned something I didn’t know: the US government dropped pamphlets warning Nagasaki of its destruction on the day AFTER the atomic bomb was dropped.  Still, despite the sadness and sympathies we felt for the victims of the bombing, the item that struck us the most was the exhibit on the actual conflict that lead to the bombing.  Since we couldn’t take photos, we copied down the following caption:

 

“Japan was engaged in war constantly for 15 years, first from the Manchurian Incident in September 1931 to the outbreak of war with China, and the Pacific War which ended in August 1945.  The prolongation of the war with China caused the enforcement of a controlled economy and government domination in Japan.  Its policies of southern expansion meanwhile brought Japan into conflict with America, Britain, France, and the Netherlands and led to the hardships of the Pacific War.  The people of other Asian nations were also dragged into the conflict and victimized in various ways.”

I guess it comes down to this: the whole thing is written in the passive voice, and the way we read into the experience at the atomic bomb memorial is that the Japanese are willing and happy to play the tragic victims of nuclear devastation, but unwilling to accept their role in the deaths of millions during the war.  That dichotomy is troubling, although it’s unfair to characterize it as universal.  The gentleman in the Diet who we will be interviewing later in the month is supposed to be quite progressive in this regard, but I am still very unsure of whether it is even possible to broach the subject.