Winnipeg, Aug. 6, 2024: Professor Tina Mai Chen speaking at Winnipeg Lanterns for Peace. Photo: Paul S. Graham
by Tina Chen, Distinguished Professor, History, University of Manitoba
As an historian of East Asia, for many years at the University of Manitoba I taught a course on the histories of Japan and China from the 19th century to the present. One of the themes of this course is the relationship between nation-states, nationalisms, and who defines and acts on behalf of the ‘the people’. The course focuses on moments when the humanity of particular people is denied because of the actions of nation-states and ideologies of nationalism – often through a language of being enemies, outsiders, people who need to ‘be civilized’, or through dehumanization of those deemed not one of ‘the people’. The course also addresses the historical legacies of wartime violence, including the logics through which acts of mass destruction targeting civilian populations are rationalized within nation-states and internationally. The course further discusses 20th and 21st century modernizing ideals, the fascination with scientific advancements, and the use of technologies to control nature, including the concomitant disregard for ecological impact of weapons of mass destruction. It is in this context that I think, teach, learn, and reflect upon the dropping of 2 atomic bombs by the United States on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in August 1945 that brought about the end of the Asia-Pacific War, or what Europe and North America refer to as World War Two. It is also in relation to these themes that I reflect upon commemoration by different people around the world of the anniversary of the dropping of the atomic bombs.
On a human level – as we have heard this evening – the dropping of two atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki is a horrific and horrifying event. It’s one in which a war was ended by a weapon whose impact could not be known – and where the fascination for what science could unleash in the context of war was greater than any values of humanity.
In terms of how we understand this moment, it is a complicated history – with interpretations of the Asia-Pacific War being ideologically loaded. No less complicated are the politics of commemoration of moments associated with the Asia-Pacific War.
Today, I want to speak to the strands of the history that are about hope and humanity, and that seek separation from nation-state and nationalist agendas that strategically deploy narratives of victimhood. A message of hope and humanity is the one so desperately needed today, in this moment when the world is once again embroiled in multiple wars, with ‘us versus them’ framings used to deny humanity to entire populations, to justify use of weapons of mass destruction directed at civilian populations, or to justify turning away from the suffering of people who are not our ‘co-nationals’. As Hiro Saito puts it with regard to commemoration of August 6: “When people commemorate the past according to the logic of nationalism, they focus on their co-nationals, whether heroes or victims, without sufficient regard for foreign others.” Saito further states: “By doubly excluding foreign others from the content and process of commemoration, nationalist logic prompts people to embrace a certain version of the past as a foundation of their national identity. Not surprisingly then, if nationalist commemorations collide, intense controversy can result. Contradictory versions of the past, each predicated on the negation of the foreign other, is a recipe for escalating mutual distrust and denunciation.”
So where is the hope? The dropping of the atomic bombs on Japan transformed Japan as a nation into the torch-bearer of anti-nuclear pacifism, particularly after the 1954 Bikini Incident when the crew of a Japanese fishing vessel was exposed to the fallout of a US hydrogen bomb test on Bikini Atoll near the Marshall Islands, with 1 crew member dying of radiation. From here, the number of testimonials by hibakusha increased. These testimonials have helped us all understand the impact of the atomic bombs, physically, emotionally, and ecologically. The testimonials are also a touchstone for peace activism. The most impactful of the East Asian peace movements have been those led by people whose activism is rooted in common humanity – rather than narrow nationalisms – those who see Japanese hibakusha, Korean hibakusha, and all survivors of nuclear and chemical warfare as individuals unjustly targeted in geopolitical struggles. They seek to hear and listen to the suffering, resilience, and humanity of people who were victims of various forms of state-sanctioned violence in the Asia-Pacific War, and to build solidarities. These movements are led by individuals in various nation-states who understand the power of expansive notions of humanity as the basis for peace and commemoration. They know that it is not enough to speak the language of human rights, and then to selectively apply it in ways that prioritize geopolitical power over humanity.
In addition, following the dropping of the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, citizen movements emerged in Japan in the 1950s through 1980s as a form of organising that refused to accept nation-state, nationalist, and economic developmentalist framings of who they should be. These Japanese activists sought to counter environmental degradation – and to speak to the scars on land and bodies resulting from the atomic bombs. They acted locally, but with attention to the broader geopolitical contexts. They also built solidarities centered on recognizing shared humanity, and from spaces of discomfort about being at once victims and victimizers. This framing is particularly important if we are to center hope and calls for peace and disarmament – not as naïve wishes, but as radical solutions. We need peace and nuclear disarmament as radical solutions in a current context where some political leaders are defending the use of atomic bombs and weapons of mass destruction, where threats by nation-states to use nuclear arms are all too common, where the lives of some people are not valued equally to those of others, and where humanitarian crises worsen daily. So, as we reflect on the dropping of the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in August 1945 – and the 80 years of history that has unfolded since this time– let us think not only about those impacted by these nuclear bombs, but those impacted by bombs of all types and by wartime violence. And let us keep their humanity in our hearts and in our pledges for peace and an end to nuclear and chemical warfare. That is, let us take up the mantel of Hiroshima and Nagasaki peace activists and name hope and humanity beyond nationalist agendas as a shared goal and solution.