With the exception of Auschwitz, Hiroshima is probably the dark tourism site people are most familiar with. On 6 August 1945, US forces unleashed their novel atomic bomb on the city with the intent of inflicting mass casualties to demonstrate the futility of further resistance and precipitate an end to the Second World War. Tens of thousands of lives were extinguished instantaneously; tens of thousands more would succumb to radioactive poisoning in the following years. Though another bomb was dropped on Nagasaki three days later, Hiroshima, as the first and more destructive bombing, is the one that has captured public imagination and is today the primary site of remembrance.
With this in mind, it would take a pretty cold-hearted individual not to feel moved by the memorial complex and accompanying museum, which provides graphic and harrowing accounts of the destruction as it unfolded. Yet the morning’s events had been testing. I wasn’t thrilled about the 6:30 wake-up to catch my flight from Tokyo. Add to this considerable turbulence and forgetting my suitcase on the coach from the airport, and things really weren’t off to a great start. In the frantic dash to retrieve my belongings, I hadn’t found a moment to stock up on drinks and snacks. Suffice to say that I was mildly irascible by the time I arrived at the memorial complex. With the sun at full glare, I trudged to the back of the long and meandering ticket line, which continued to grow as legions of coaches pulled up, disgorging fifty schoolchildren at a time who, in a manner most offensive to my English sensibilities, were fast-tracked to the front. In the end, it only took 45 minutes, but by this point I was already growing concerned about how busy it would be inside. My worst fears were about to be realised.
The place was packed. I joined the huddled masses, shuffling through the exhibits with nary a moment to stop and read, let alone consider, what was on display. The museum is one of the most impressive I’ve visited, and I’m sure the sense of tragedy would’ve been palpable under different conditions. I didn’t stick around for long.
Now at peak cynicism, the thought crossed my mind that this tragedy has been a rather wonderful way for Japan to rehabilitate its image. The final exhibition proudly exalted Japan’s recent role in promoting nuclear disarmament, yet explanations of why the Americans felt the need to develop such a weapon in the first place were conspicuously absent. Personally, I found it difficult to read accounts of the suffering at Hiroshima without thinking of the cataclysm Japan had unleashed on its Asian neighbours that eclipsed it – at least in terms of death toll – by several orders of magnitude. Nor was there any mention of the fact that orders from high command were to execute all POWs, about 40,000 in total, should Allied forces land in the Japanese-occupied territories where they were being held. This was only averted by dint of two atomic blasts (because the military leadership remained intractable even after the bombing of Hiroshima had annihilated 50,000 people), obviating the need for what surely would have been a protracted invasion with an enormous death toll on all sides. Perhaps the Hiroshima memorial isn’t the place for such arguments, especially given that the victims were overwhelmingly civilians, but it’s hard not to think that the museum’s pining for world peace rings a little hollow, given the absence of any meaningful introspection. Rant over.
I exited the museum and made for the spacious memorial park, which was far more pleasant to walk around, albeit still quite crowded. My favourite sight was the eerie Genbaku Dome, the only structure left standing in the area where the bomb exploded.
Altogether, the memorial complex is a touching tribute to the victims and a sobering reminder of the perils of our current nuclear age. Educating people on the horrors of Hiroshima is undoubtedly a worthy endeavour that may well prevent their repetition. I sympathise with the desire to reach as wide an audience as possible. I just wonder whether letting fewer people in might make for a more engaging and meaningful experience.
Buoyed by a fantastic sriracha cheeseburger from Lotteria – swiftly becoming my favourite fast-food chain – for lunch, I had a lovely stroll to Hiroshima Castle, which is just thirty minutes from the memorial park. The grounds and castle were absolutely stunning, but the cherry on top was the atmospheric music played each hour that made it feel as if a samurai showdown was about to happen at any moment. The castle itself has been converted into a neat museum with some cool relics and informative exhibits, though unfortunately it seems whoever was tasked with translating these into English gave up after the second floor. Nonetheless, this was absolutely the highlight of Hiroshima and a great pairing with the memorial park to make for a truly splendid sojourn.
