I was feeling a bit un inspired for this blog post, and after unsuccessfully convincing my fiance to go with me to see the new Godzilla film, I had to seek inspiration elsewhere. I thought back to this past April one of my best friends went to go visit her sister in Japan and she came home with a two hour long slideshow of photos. I noticed she went to Hiroshima Peace Park so I decided to do a little browsing on their site to see what type of tourism they were advertising, be is thano-tourism or simply tourism. I came across this very telling and beautifully written ‘Declaration of Peace’. Interestingly enough it starts out by presenting the story of a surviving orphan that never wanted to have survived. The declaration states: ““We greet the morning of the 68th return of “that day.” At 8:15 a.m., August 6, 1945, a single atomic bomb erased an entire family. “The baby boy was safely born. Just as the family was celebrating, the atomic bomb exploded. Showing no mercy, it took all that joy and hope along with the new life.”
The article continues; “A little boy managed somehow to survive but the atomic bomb took his entire family. This A-bomb orphan lived through hardship, isolation, and illness, but was never able to have a family of his own. Today, he is a lonely old hibakusha. “I have never once been glad I survived,” he says, looking back. After all these years of terrible suffering, the deep hurt remains.”” Out of all the hibakusha literature we have studied, I have never gotten the sense that death would have outweighed surviving. This idea seems to play along with the ideas expressed in the film ‘Night of The Living Dead’ as if death on earth is worse than actual death.
Another interesting aspect of the hibakusha culture that I was unaware of was the stigma the bomb placed on survivors. The declaration continues; “A woman who experienced the bombing at the age of eight months suffered discrimination and prejudice. She did manage to marry, but a month later, her mother-in-law, who had been so kind at first, learned about her A-bomb survivor’s handbook. “’You’re a hibakusha,’ she said, ‘We don’t need a bombed bride. Get out now.’ And with that, I was divorced.” At times, the fear of radiation elicited ugliness and cruelty. Groundless rumors caused many survivors to suffer in marriage, employment, childbirth—at every stage of life”. I never considered this outcome and stigma attached to survivors. It is heartbreaking to me that even though they survived the horror of the bomb then they had to endure a type of social bombing.
Finally the declaration pleads for peace, saying “Policymakers of the world, how long will you remain imprisoned by distrust and animosity? Do you honestly believe you can continue to maintain national security by rattling your sabers? Please come to Hiroshima. Encounter the spirit of the hibakusha. Look squarely at the future of the human family without being trapped in the past, and make the decision to shift to a system of security based on trust and dialogue. Hiroshima is a place that embodies the grand pacifism of the Japanese constitution. At the same time, it points to the path the human family must walk. Moreover, for the peace and stability of our region, all countries involved must do more to achieve a nuclear-weapon-free North Korea in a Northeast Asia nuclear-weapon-free zone.” I find it fascinating that this declaration is the approach that Hiroshima takes for advertisement to visit the park. The article calls upon the dirty parts of the bomb that we do not think about and makes us feel a sense of pity for the survivors. Ultimately, pleading for peace.
(http://www.pcf.city.hiroshima.jp/declaration/English/2013/index.html)
-Alli Haylings
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