Forgotten Atrocities: Reflecting on Hiroshima and Nagasaki
The atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki were not acts of wartime necessity but appalling demonstrations of American power at the expense of innocent lives.
Like most people who, through no accomplishment of their own, happened to spawn to life in the US, my understanding of the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki was long shrouded by the opaque, grimy lens of American™ history.
I never questioned it. The justification for quite literally incinerating hundreds of thousands of innocent civilians was some foregone conclusion that had been determined long before I got here.
Therefore, my complicity in a system that accepts such a conclusion could easily be excused by ignorance, at least by an ostensibly “polite” society that operates in and subsists upon a realm built on alternative facts.
The truth? There is no justification for the level of carnage unleashed upon not one, but two, civilian populations—not even the sacrosanct Pearl Harbor attack that this nation likes to use as an inexhaustible victim card.
Furthermore, the attack on Pearl Harbor did not occur in a vacuum but was a direct response to the economic and political pressures that Japan faced due to American-led sanctions and embargos.
For generations, the narrative has been clouded by the American perspective—a viewpoint that seeks to justify, or at the very least, rationalize the unspeakable horrors unleashed on Japan 79 years ago today.
Ask someone who was born outside of the grasp of Imperialist chronicling of history. Chances are, they’ll view these events quite differently, in ways that demand examination and an accountability for the bombings, which, as it turns out, were less about wartime necessity, and more about a cold-blooded, barbaric display of force.
Strategic Justification: A Flawed Premise
The bombing of Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, is frequently cited as the catalyst that propelled the United States into World War II, and subsequently, as the moral justification for the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
However, despite the official declaration of its entry into World War II occurring on December 11, 1941, four days after the bombing at Pearl Harbor, the United States had already been deeply involved in the conflict.
In 1940, the U.S. imposed an embargo on iron and steel exports to Japan, and by mid-1941, the situation intensified when the U.S. froze Japanese assets and imposed an oil embargo. This action was a severe blow, as Japan imported over 80% of its oil from the United States
These actions were not merely defensive maneuvers but were, in many ways, acts of capitalistic warfare designed to cripple Japan’s economy. The U.S., acting on behalf of its European allies already deeply entrenched in the world war, was effectively a proxy participant well before its official entry into the global conflict.
Of course, one thing that is hard, if not impossible, for jingo-blind Americans to understand is the nature of its nation’s deeds in their proper context.
You see, Pearl Harbor was a military strike, targeting a naval base that housed the very forces that posed a direct threat to Japan. Under the laws of war, this was a legitimate military target.
The attack, though devastating, was not an indiscriminate assault on civilians; it was a calculated, strategic move in the so-called theater of war—a preemptive strike aimed at impeding the U.S. Pacific Fleet.
In stark contrast, the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki were not directed at military installations but at civilian populations. The cities were chosen not for their strategic military value, but for the sheer number of civilians who would be killed or maimed. The decision to drop atomic bombs on these cities was not merely a wartime tactic; it was an act of terror designed to force Japan into submission through the indiscriminate slaughter of tens of thousands of innocent people.
Aerial view of Hiroshima before and after the bombing via Public domain via Wikimedia Commons
An Unspeakable Act
The bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki by the United States stand alone in the annals of warfare as the only instances where nuclear weapons have been used against human beings. The sheer scale of destruction was unprecedented, and the human cost was catastrophic. In Hiroshima, an estimated 140,000 people were killed by the end of 1945, while Nagasaki saw the deaths of around 74,000.
The majority of these victims were civilians—men, women, and children who had no role in the war other than the misfortune of living in a country that was at odds with the United States.
The aftereffects of the atomic bombings continued to claim the lives of Hibakusha, those who survived, for years to come. Radiation sickness, cancers, and other long-term health complications continued to claim tens of thousands more lives in the ensuing years. By the mid-1950s, it is estimated that the total death toll in Hiroshima had risen to approximately 200,000, while Nagasaki's toll reached around 140,000.
These lingering deaths underscore the enduring suffering caused by the bombings, marking them not only as immediate catastrophes but as ongoing tragedies that claimed lives well beyond the initial explosions.
To label these bombings as anything less than a war crime is to ignore the fundamental principles of morality and justice. The deliberate targeting of civilians in such a manner constitutes a war crime under international law. The Nuremberg and Tokyo trials, held in the aftermath of World War II, prosecuted individuals for similar acts of violence against civilians, yet the architects of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings have never been held to account.
The aftermath of the atomic bombing of Nagasaki via Wikimedia Commons: Koyo Ishikawa
The Hubris of American Power
The decision to drop atomic bombs on Japan was not born out of military necessity, as has often been claimed.
By the summer of 1945, Japan was on the brink of surrender. The Japanese government, fully aware of its dire situation, had already initiated negotiations with the Soviet Union, seeking to broker peace.
The only sticking point in these negotiations was the status of Emperor Hirohito. Japan was willing to surrender on the condition that the emperor, a figure of immense cultural and spiritual significance, would be allowed to retain his position, in order to ease the transition into a post-war era.
However, the United States, driven by a combination of racial animus, a desire for revenge, and a display of its newfound nuclear might, refused to entertain any conditional surrender.
American leaders, particularly President Harry S. Truman and his advisors, were determined to impose an unconditional surrender, one that would strip Japan of its imperial system.
The bombing of Hiroshima on August 6, 1945, followed by the bombing of Nagasaki on August 9, 1945, was intended to compel Japan to accept these terms.
Yet, in a cruel twist of fate, the very condition that Japan had sought to preserve—the retention of the emperor—was ultimately granted after the bombings.
Hirohito remained on the throne; a symbolic gesture that highlights the needless destruction wrought by the atomic bombs. Japan's surrender on August 15, 1945, was not the result of the bombings alone, but of a combination of factors, including the bloody battles at Iwo Jima and Okinawa.
The bombings, therefore, were not only unnecessary but also a manifestation of American hubris—an insistence on demonstrating the overwhelming power of the United States, regardless of the human cost.
Racist 1941 US propaganda poster featuring Uncle Sam saying “JAP.. You’re Next!” via National Archives at College Park, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Internment Camps: The American Hypocrisy
The moral righteousness with which the United States often presents its actions during World War II is further contradicted by its treatment of Japanese American citizens during the same period.
In the wake of Pearl Harbor, the U.S. government forcibly relocated and incarcerated over 120,000 Japanese Americans in internment camps, a euphemism for what were effectively concentration camps.
These camps, located in remote areas of the country, were overcrowded, unsanitary, and guarded by armed soldiers. Families were torn apart, and individuals were stripped of their property, livelihoods, and basic human dignity—all based on their ethnicity, not any proven disloyalty.
The parallels between these camps and the concentration camps of Nazi Germany are uncomfortable, but undeniable. While the American camps did not engage in the systematic extermination of their inhabitants, they nonetheless represent a grave violation of civil rights and human decency, for adults and children alike.
The internment of Japanese Americans was driven by the same racist ideology that justified the use of atomic bombs on Japanese civilians—the same that Germany used to justify the internment of Jewish prisoners into its concentration camps.
Japanese American Internment Camps via UPI/Bettmann Archive/Getty Images
A Reckoning Long Overdue
The narrative of World War II, as told from the American perspective, is incomplete without a reckoning with the atrocities committed by the United States itself—atrocities that have been obscured by the false glow of ill-gotten victory.
The bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki were not acts of valor, but of unparalleled cruelty. Furthermore, the internment of Japanese Americans was not a protective measure, but a gross violation of human rights, born of fear and prejudice.
As the only nation to have ever used nuclear weapons in war, the United States bears a unique responsibility to confront the legacy of these bombings.
Its citizens must acknowledge the suffering inflicted upon the people of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, not as collateral damage in a just war, but as victims of what, until that point, was an unfathomable crime against humanity.
In the shadow of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the world has been forever changed. The atomic age, ushered in with such horrific violence, serves as a reminder of the devastating power that humanity now possesses. With such power comes a moral obligation—to ensure that such weapons are never used again, and to remember the lives that were lost in the name of empire.