High on the hill I could see it: Nagasaki is a beautiful city. It’s a mirror of the Milky Way in the night.
Nagasaki was considered the gateway of cultures into Japan, still boasting a large Chinatown and population of Christians.
The Nagasaki Peace Park features artwork donated from around the world and a teal stone colossus at its core. The ceremony on August 9th was smaller than Hiroshima’s, and did not feature translation. A survivor from Nagasaki spoke.
Incidentally, I ended up taking a brief interview with a member of the Japanese press. Nagasaki’s mayor had capitulated to popular demands and disinvited the Israeli delegation to the peace ceremony. The American ambassador in turn boycotted the event. As an American, they asked me what I thought about that. Without missing a beat, I told them that this ambassador was a coward and should be fired. As the country that unleashed this weapon on the people of Nagasaki, we should always be there, and should apologize.
I didn’t know at the time that the ambassador to Japan was none other than Rahm Immanuel, one of the most hated US politicians of my lifetime. As a figure in the DNC and Obama whitehouse, he popularized the pivot to the right-wing by running “cops, soldiers, and businessmen- the most right-wing people we can find who will call themselves a democrat”. As mayor of Chicago he attempted to bust unions and privatize schools. We should fire Rahm Immanuel for a lot of reasons.
As the second city to be attacked with the atom bomb, Nagasaki is often overlooked. It’s more common to hear “remember Hiroshima” or to travel to Hiroshima only to study peace and the bomb. Less foreigners find their way here. Nagasaki wanted their slogan to be “let Nagasaki be the last”, but that was quickly demurred by the atomic bombing of Bikini Atoll and so-called “proving grounds” around the world.
This was also the point of the trip where exhaustion caught up with our small team of peace ambassadors. The constant 95+ degree weather, the packed schedules, and complicated travel logistics reduced our ability to absorb the information and experiences of Nagasaki. I can laugh at it now, but we were becoming irritable. On our train there, a nation-wide alert went off for a large earthquake. The conductor cleared us of the tunnel we were in and hit the brakes. We spent half an hour on the tracks wondering if the earthquake would come, but it didn’t. We nearly missed our connecting train, and as always, sweat was pouring out of every orifice in our bodies. So in spite of my desire to give Nagasaki equal attention, we were there for less time with smaller attention spans, so this will be my only Nagasaki post.
In June, I visited the Hanford Reach with Columbia Riverkeeper and the Yakama Nation. I learned considerably about the Yakama and Wanapaums, the people of this supposedly de-peopled land. It was on this stolen reserve that workers were tricked into creating the plutonium for the “Fat Man”, the nuclear weapon that the people of Nagasaki were murdered with. To this day, we pay the price for this plutonium factory in the form of billions of tax dollars to contain the waste, and innumerable health effects passed to workers and surrounding communities.
The Catholics of Nagasaki practiced their faith in secret for about a hundred years after Christian missionaries were purged from Japan. The “26 Martyrs”, all Christian priests, were famously marched across Japan and crucified. Later, when Catholics returned they were amazed to discover these hidden flocks. Urakami Cathedral in Nagasaki was the largest Christian church in East Asia. Many were gathered there when the bomb fell.
Melted crosses, rosaries, and busts haunt Nagasaki. But the most haunting is the severed head of the Mother Mary. The material that was used for her eyes melted, leaving empty sockets and black tears down her face. We were permitted to see this within the cathedral, thanks to a tour provided by the local bishop. This is perhaps the reason for the strong Catholic connection to the nuclear abolition movement. The faithful people of Nagasaki miraculously surviving, only to perish in atomic fire. A temple desecrated.
But Nagasaki itself is a temple to humanity, and the second use of an atomic weapons a desecration of humanity. It’s a shrine to the senselessness of it all.
I took a cable car up a mountain that stands tall above Nagasaki. I was among the clouds at sunset, and could see clearly around for miles. It is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, and 79 years ago a small group of rich white men wiped it off the face of the earth and killed nearly every living thing in the city below. The war was over. They did this because they could.
79 years later, my country has never apologized. In 15 years time, there will be no Hibakusha left to hear it.