- by Graham Holton
- The Guardian
- Issue #2200
A poem written by a communist poet who lost his family after the bomb.
On 6 and 9 August 1945 atomic bombs killed an estimated 140,000 people in Hiroshima, and 74,000 in Nagasaki. The bomb detonated over Hiroshima razed 70 per cent of all buildings. Three days later a bomb exploding over Nagasaki levelled 6.7 sq km of the city.
Japan was devastated by World War II. Its cities destroyed by aerial bombing campaigns that left millions homeless. People returned to Hiroshima and Nagasaki surprisingly quickly after the atomic bombing, because they had nowhere else to go. These two cities held their memories, livelihoods and families, what remained of them.
The Japanese government poured in financial support for urban planning and rebuilding after the destruction. Within days government offices reopened, the rail services restarted, and the markets and schools reopened. The Japanese government designated Hiroshima as a ‘City of Peace,’ while Nagasaki rebuilt its port, industries, and residential areas.
The survivors, known as hibakusha in Japan, rebuilt their lives, married, had families, and contributed to their reconstruction. A significant number carried elevated rates of psychological distress for the rest of their lives. The long-term effects depended on the loss of loved ones, social support, the severity of radiation exposure, and post-war living conditions.
In 1945 radiation was poorly understood. Japan was occupied by the US military, with support from Commonwealth countries from 1945 to 1952. Occupation authorities initially restricted information about radiation effects, so rumours soon spread that nothing would grow for decades, while others thought there was no danger. In the end, people judged conditions by what they saw around them.
The atomic bombs exploded 600 hundred metres above the ground, with the most intense radiation occurring at the moment of explosion. As a result, much of the radioactive material was carried high into the atmosphere in the mushroom clouds. While there were dangerous areas affected by fallout and ‘black rain,’ the cities did not remain lethally radioactive for years because the short half-life meant the radioactive isotopes decayed within days or weeks.
An atomic bomb releases radiation in a very short burst, with much of the radioactivity dispersing rapidly.
Those entering heavily contaminated areas soon after the bombings – rescue workers, military personnel, and the public – were exposed to radioactive fallout.
However, for most people who returned weeks or months later, residual radiation exposure was relatively low. Investigations by Japanese and Allied scientists found that, while survivors faced long-term risks of cancer and other illnesses from their exposure, living in these cities did not expose residents to continuously dangerous radiation levels.
This no way understates the horrific nature of the nuclear bombs. The health risks depended on when and where a person was exposed. Those present at the moment of the bombing faced the greatest danger. People who returned days or weeks later generally faced much lower risks. Many survivors suffered from lacerations from shattered glass, or crush injuries from collapsing buildings. Infections were common because medical facilities had been destroyed.
Many survivors feared they would die suddenly from unknown illnesses, and their children would be born with birth defects. People close to the explosion developed Acute Radiation Syndrome (ARS) within hours or days. Those receiving very high doses died within weeks.
Long-term studies of survivors showed increased severe health risks, but most did not develop radiation-related cancers. Women exposed while pregnant had a higher risk of miscarriage, and babies with low birth weight. Developmental disabilities occurred if the exposure was during the critical stages of foetal brain development. This uncertainty created long-term anxiety.
Survivors experienced not only the trauma of the bombings, but also the grief, social stigma, and anxiety about the future. They experienced grief after losing family members, depression, and anxiety; symptoms now recognised as PTSD.
Some struggled with survivor guilt for decades. Many survivors were unable to identify or bury loved ones. The psychological effects of the atomic bombings were profound and lifelong. The scale of bereavement was unlike anything Japan had experienced before.
Many hibakusha faced discrimination because of misconceptions about radiation. Employers refused to hire them. Prospective spouses worried about hereditary effects. Some survivors developed physical symptoms from chronic stress.
Child survivors often lost their families, and witnessed horrific injuries and deaths. They grew up in poverty and unstable social conditions. These experiences affected their emotional development, education, and relationships throughout their lives. Many found recounting their experiences emotionally exhausting and refused to talk about them.
The experiences of the hibakusha have become an important source of knowledge about the psychological consequences of mass trauma, influencing disaster medicine, trauma psychology, and international discussions on the humanitarian impact of nuclear weapons.
Less than 100,000 hibakusha are alive today. Their average age is 86, but when they can, they campaign for the elimination of nuclear weapons, and try to keep the memory of the atomic attacks alive. It is shameful that the junior coalition partner in Japan’s government is calling for loosening Japan’s prohibition on nuclear weapons, citing Australia’s AUKUS program as a reason.
