The “indulgent” nature of atomic bomb nationalism: What can be seen from criticism of Palestine

On the 28th of last month, the Permanent Mission of Palestine to Japan made a post on social media comparing the amount of bombs dropped by the Zionist regime Israel to the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima, which received a series of criticisms such as ``Don't use Hiroshima.'' Ta. Let's think about the self-consciousness of postwar Japan that emerged from this.

Nov 11, 2023 - 13:57
The “indulgent” nature of atomic bomb nationalism: What can be seen from criticism of Palestine
The “indulgent” nature of atomic bomb nationalism: What can be seen from criticism of Palestine

On the 28th of last month, three weeks after the Zionist regime Israel began its attack on Gaza, the Permanent Mission of Palestine to Japan, which corresponds to the embassy in Japan, posted the following post on X (formerly Twitter). The atomic bomb Little Boy, dropped on Hiroshima, created an explosion equivalent to 16,000 tons of gunpowder. Over the past three weeks, Israeli airstrikes on Gaza have amounted to more than 12,000 tons. They have completely cut off communications and continue to slaughter civilians in the dark. war crimes, genocide, ethnic cleansing This post has been viewed approximately 13.98 million times as of November 9th, and is by far the most popular post by the Permanent Mission of Palestine to Japan. However, this post received a lot of criticism from Japanese users.

The criticism was to the effect of, ``Don't confuse it with the atomic bomb'' and ``Don't use Hiroshima for politics.'' Criticism was not limited to general users, with international political scientist Atsuko Higashino commenting, ``Japanese people bring up the atomic bomb with a casualness that is unimaginable,'' and a Palestine researcher at the National Museum of Ethnology. One person, Akiko Sugase, cited her personal experience in which a Palestinian trainee she once invited to Japan claimed that the damage to Palestine was greater than the damage caused by the atomic bomb. The number of people willing to offer support is decreasing,'' he said, as if the trainees' comments were the consensus opinion of Palestine. What is hidden in these criticisms is a sense of self-consciousness, such as ``the atomic bombing must be worse than any other war damage'' and ``the damage caused by the atomic bombing should not be talked about lightly.'' This sense of self-consciousness has long been referred to as the concept of ``atomic bomb nationalism.''

Ritsu Yonekura, a professor at Nihon University's School of Law who specializes in journalism, wrote an article titled ``Questions about 'perpetration' and journalism in Hiroshima and Nagasaki in the 1990s,'' which was published in the university's journal ``Political and Economic Studies'' last year. In it, he writes the following about ``atomic bomb nationalism.'' ``A-bomb nationalism'' is the idea that Japan is the ``only country to have suffered atomic bombings in war,'' and that this is why the Japanese people have the qualification and mission to communicate the threat of atomic bombing to the world and advocate for peacebuilding. It refers to a way of thinking based on the “privileged consciousness” of a species. This paper focuses on Takashi Hiraoka and Toji Motojima, who served as mayors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in the 1990s, and looks back on the ideological lineage of both men, who were conscious of the issue of atomic bomb nationalism from an early stage. There are some words by Mr. Hiraoka introduced in this article. For a long time, speech and expression were suppressed under the term "feelings of atomic bomb survivors," which led to the current poverty of thought about Hiroshima, and the poverty of thought led to a vicious cycle that promoted the sanctification of Hiroshima. ing.

This poverty of thought and the obstruction of public discourse have led to fetishistic tendencies such as the permanent preservation of atomic bombed buildings, atomic bombed trees, and origami cranes. Thousand cranes do not have the power to abolish nuclear weapons. The feeling of folding 1,000 paper cranes to express one's opposition to nuclear weapons is a precious thing, but unless that feeling is translated into action, nuclear weapons will not disappear. (Omitted) When preserving atomic bombed buildings and folding 1,000 paper cranes become self-centered goals, Hiroshima deteriorates. The ``fetishistic tendency'' that Mr. Hiraoka pointed out became a reality at this year's Hiroshima Summit. The G7 leaders did not hold America responsible for dropping the atomic bomb, nor did they commit to the abolition of nuclear weapons themselves, but simply prayed for the souls of the victims, laid flowers, and wrote a note. This is an unprecedented political act. It stripped events of their politics and confined them to the world of colorless and transparent images and representations of "peace." What is noteworthy is that this action, which would have been criticized as ``a hollow performance'' under other themes, was welcomed by a considerable number of Japanese people as an outcome. However, this is not a recent phenomenon; rather, it has been Japan's consistent stance for 78 years since the end of the war.

The Cenotaph for the Atomic Bomb Victims in Hiroshima's Peace Memorial Park is engraved with the words, ``Rest in peace, I will not let my mistakes be repeated.'' This inscription has often been controversial as it lacks a subject. However, precisely because there is no subject, he should have been able to embody the idea of ​​facing both the facts of Japan as a victim and the facts as a perpetrator, and acting based on that. However, Japan's actual path after the war was contrary to that. The experience of the atomic bombing and the peace movement that emphasized it served, although unintentionally, to diminish Japan's role as an aggressor and weaken the awareness of the war's responsibility towards Asian countries. This was also used in the political field, and Japan succeeded in giving the international community, especially Western countries, an image of Japan as a ``peaceful nation.'' As a result, policies that would otherwise be contradictory, such as the Japan-U.S. security treaty and the nuclear umbrella, were easily realized. By confining the fact of the atomic bombing to the world of images, Japanese politics were given a free hand. On the final day of this year's Hiroshima Summit, as Prime Minister Kishida finished his press conference and was about to leave the venue, a freelance journalist who had not yet finished his questions shouted, "Are you running away?"

However, he also asked about the G7's decision to compile a statement recognizing the nuclear deterrent force. The reporter's actions sparked criticism, with comments such as ``not being appropriate for such a solemn occasion.'' This was exactly a reaction against the image of Hiroshima being destroyed. When an image breaks out of its shell and attempts to address real political issues, those who have used the image up until then cannot help but rebel. This is because as soon as that happens, we will be forced to face the problems that we have ignored for 78 years since the end of the war. The criticism leveled at the posts by the Palestinian Mission can also be said to be due to this mentality. If the atomic bomb is so important that comparisons with other war damage cannot be tolerated, why has the Japanese government refused to compensate hibakusha for so many years, and why has the existence of hibakusha other than Japanese been forgotten? We should answer head-on why Japan is under the U.S. nuclear umbrella, why they signed a secret agreement to allow nuclear weapons to be brought to Okinawa, and why these issues continue to this day. The attitude of continuing to avoid asking such questions and not allowing others to mention them is nothing but the indulgence of the `` A-bomb nationalism '' that was nurtured in a greenhouse for a long time after the war.