History is a record of events and facts; as well, it is an interpretation of how these inform our passage through time. "Close-up" history is always coloured and shaded by the passions, prejudices, and self interest of the writer. An example would be the "Catholic" presentation of wars and atrocities as the struggles justified by Divine Authority against the immoral, the godless, and the profane.
Another problem with "close-up" history is the necessarily limited access to scholarship.
As time passes and innumerable scholars combine their strengths, and discover falsities and weaknesses in the record--the past becomes exposed to a keener and more skilful interpretation--less contaminated with passion--less confused by prejudice and partiality.
Nowadays we recognize the terrible atrocities of the Church, for instance. We are embarrassed by their "history." Thus we revise it to reflect the superior scholarship and the less narrow-minded perspective given by emotional distance and improved education.
When "history" is revised to reflect a greater integrity of scholarship, it is sometimes referred to as "revisionist." It should be made clear that modern history ought not to be considered more accurate and representational solely by virtue of relying on the earnest efforts of a greater quantity of researchers and previous historians. This would be unfair. The modern perspective must still be judged by the sources consulted and cited, and by the integrity and consistency of the author's points.
In the case of the controversy over the use of the atomic bombs in the Pacific War, many advantages have accrued to the modern researcher: The collating, comparison and consideration of thousands of documents and "histories" from various countries have disabused the modern historian of many older misconceptions which were planted more than half a century ago. Additionally, such fortuitous finds as the Potsdam diaries which were so unfortunately lost for something like 30 years, have enabled the modern historian to revise the errors and mistakes of a previous generation.
It is now recognized that virtually all of the American leadership were well aware that Japan's airforce and navy had been destroyed, and that they were suffering from lack of human essentials. We now know of the strenuous efforts undertaken to ensure that they not surrender until certain tests had been completed.
Both the 5 star Admiral and the 5 star General made the point that they were aware that Japan was on the verge of surrender...and that destroying Hiroshima and Nagasaki did not materially affect the outcome of the war.
Of course, some people still claim that Truman dropped the bombs to prevent Japanese civilians from starvation. As if to say: "Well, we have burned 66 cities to the ground. They seem on the verge of surrender. But what if they start to starve over the next month or two? We really must destroy Hiroshima and Nagasaki for their own good."
Of course, that is silly: but strangely enough--it is a scenario that some profess to believe.
This is not a man worried about the fate of Japanese--civilians or otherwise:
The Atom Bomb: Truman's Announcement on Hiroshima
Announcement on Hiroshima August 6, 1945
"Sixteen hours ago an American airplane dropped on bomb on Hiroshima, an important Japanese Army base. That bomb had more power than 20,000 tons of T.N.T. It had more than two thousand times the blast power of the British "Grand Slam" which is the largest bomb ever yet used in the history of warfare.
The Japanese began the war from the air at Pearl Harbor. They have been repaid many fold. And the end is not yet. With this bomb we have now added a new and revolutionary increase in destruction to supplenment the growing power of our armed forces. In their present form these bombs are now in production and even more powerful forms are in development.
It is an atomic bomb. It is a harnessing of the basic power of the universe. The force from which the sun draws its power has been loosed against those who brought war to the Far East...
We are now prepared to obliterate more rapidly and completely every productive enterprise the Japanese have above ground in any city. We shall destroy their docks, their factories, and their communications. Let there be no mistake; we shall completely destroy Japan's power to make war.
It was to spare the Japanese people from utter destruction that the ultimatum of July 26 was issued at Potsdam. Their leaders promptly rejected that ultimatum. If they do not now accept our terms they may expect a rain of ruin from the air, the like of which has never been seen on this earth. Behind this air attack will follow sea and land forces in such numbers and power as they have not yet seen and with the fighting skill of which they are already well aware."
Again, can we imagine Eisenhower or Leahy saying: "They are beaten and on the verge of surrender. Invading them would only activate their last ditch Kamikaze suicides and would allow them to mount a guerilla resistance which would play into their hands and their hopes for American concessions to their Divine Emperor as part of their surrender. So the most useless and unnecessary thing we could possibly do (believing what we claim to believe) would be to start an invasion in November or later. So rather than do what has long become unnecessary and unthinkable...lets bomb the civilians in two more cities. It will keep the Japanese from starving (their welfare is always foremost on our minds), and it will prevent us from landing allied soldiers in the midst of the last remaining military the Japanese have, to wit: the army."
Does anyone believe the American leadership had any intention at that point of invasion? To call such a person gullible would amount to the most egregious flattery; indeed it would be spread so thick, the bread would disappear.
Ex Mayor, Dinkin's "contribution" to this issue seems merely to repeat in a stentorian voice, the rationale used by Government spin doctors immediately after the war. In his view, there appears to have been no progress in the understanding of history to have been measured in the last 55 years. He does not even seem to be aware of the last half century of historical research. He will not be the last lawyer to fail dismally in making an impression as an historical essayist. One notices that he did not bother to use any sources from experts in the field, but I am sure he did not see the need for such a reliance. This comment is priceless and indicative of his posturing--bolding mine:
"The most imperative thing on Truman's mind as he let the bombings go forward was that they would prevent a land invasion of Kyushu and the massive loss of life, both American and Japanese, that would accompany such an invasion"
...Something nobody in the American leadership seemed to be considering as necesssary or feasible at that time!
In my opinion, Mr. Dinkins offers nothing unique to the argument, but merely incites a feeble battle against ennui as he recites a platitudinous barrage from the past....a tired revisiting of worn-out and discredited arguments...
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There is much to be proud of in the war. We (the allies) have our statues, our memorials, and our gravestones to remind us of the heroism and valour, the nobility and the sacrifice--both sung and unsung. In our homes and hearts we have the letters, the photos, and the memories.
But where there is pride, there is also regret. For the greatest awe of all comes from our admission of human weakness and frailty. The nobility of sacrifice is emphasized by the burden of human imperfection.
The issue is not one of race, colour, creed, or nationality. Those who attempt to draw such a dichotomy must expose a fatal prejudice in their view of mankind. Nor is the terrible dropping of the bombs a condemnation of one people or one nation. Firebombing was done by many nations. Both Dresden and Tokyo exceeded the deaths of either Hiroshima or Nagasaki. The question of the dropping of the bombs is not a question to establish "blame." It is a question to establish an admission from people everywhere; an admission of a shared humanity as absolute allies against a common foe--that foe being the spectre of assured destruction for all colours and all nations.
HIROSHIMA:
NEEDLESS SLAUGHTER,
USEFUL TERROR
by William Blum
"While Japan was desperately trying to surrender, the U.S. knowing that the war could be ended without a land invasion dropped two A-bombs: The opening shot of cold war.
Does winning World War II and the Cold War mean never having to say you're sorry? The Germans apologized to the Jews and the Poles. The Japanese apologized to the Chinese and the Koreans, and to the United States for failing to break off diplomatic relations before attacking Pearl Harbor. The Russians apologized to the Poles for atrocities committed against civilians, and to the Japanese for abuse of prisoners. The Soviet Communist Party even apologized for foreign policy errors that heightened tension with the West.
Is there any reason for the U.S. to apologize to Japan for atomizing Hiroshima and Nagasaki? Those on opposing sides of this question are lining up in battle formation for the 50th anniversary of the dropping of the atom bombs on August 6 and 9. During last year's raw-meat controversy surrounding the Smithsonian Institution's Enola Gay exhibit, U.S. veterans went ballistic. They condemned the emphasis on the ghastly deaths caused by the bomb and the lingering aftereffects of radiation, and took offense at the portrayal of Japanese civilians as blameless victims. An Air Force group said vets were feeling nuked.
In Japan, too, the anniversary has rekindled controversy. The mayors of the two Japanese cities in question spoke out about a wide perception gap between the two countries. Nagasaki Mayor Hitoshi Motoshima, surmounting a cultural distaste for offending, called the bombings one of the two great crimes against humanity in the 20th Century, along with the Holocaust.
Defenders of the U.S. action counter that the bomb actually saved lives: It ended the war sooner and obviated the need for a land invasion. Estimates of the hypothetical body count, however, which ranged from 20,000 to 1.2 million, owe more to political agendas than to objective projections.
But in any event, defining the issue as a choice between the A-bomb and a land invasion is an irrelevant and wholly false dichotomy. By 1945, Japan's entire military and industrial machine was grinding to a halt as the resources needed to wage war were all but eradicated. The navy and air force had been destroyed ship by ship, plane by plane, with no possibility of replacement. When, in the spring of 1945, the island nation's lifeline to oil was severed, the war was over except for the fighting. By June, Gen. Curtis LeMay, in charge of the air attacks, was complaining that after months of terrible firebombing, there was nothing left of Japanese cities for his bombers but garbage can targets. By July, U.S. planes could fly over Japan without resistance and bomb as much and as long as they pleased. Japan could no longer defend itself.
REJECTED OVERTURES
After the war, the world learned what U.S. leaders had known by early 1945: Japan was militarily defeated long before Hiroshima; it had been trying for months, if not for years, to surrender; and the U.S. had consistently rebuffed these overtures. A May 5 cable, intercepted and decoded by the U.S., dispelled any possible doubt that the Japanese were eager to sue for peace. Sent to Berlin by the German ambassador in Tokyo, after he talked to a ranking Japanese naval officer, it read: Since the situation is clearly recognized to be hopeless, large sections of the Japanese armed forces would not regard with disfavor an American request for capitulation even if the terms were hard.
As far as is known, Washington did nothing to pursue this opening. Later that month, Secretary of War Henry L. Stimson almost capriciously dismissed three separate high-level recommendations from within the administration to activate peace negotiations. The proposals advocated signaling Japan that the U.S. was willing to consider the all-important retention of the emperor system; i.e., the U.S. would not insist upon unconditional surrender.
Stimson, like other high U.S. officials, did not really care in principle whether or not the emperor was retained. The term unconditional surrender was always a propaganda measure; wars are always ended with some kind of conditions. To some extent the insistence was a domestic consideration not wanting to appear to appease the Japanese. More important, however, it reflected a desire that the Japanese not surrender before the bomb could be used. One of the few people who had been aware of the Manhattan Project from the beginning, Stimson had come to think of it as his bomb, my secret, as he called it in his diary. On June 6, he told President Truman he was fearful that before the A-bombs were ready to be delivered, the Air Force would have Japan so bombed out that the new weapon would not have a fair background to show its strength. In his later memoirs, Stimson admitted that no effort was made, and none was seriously considered, to achieve surrender merely in order not to have to use the bomb.
And that effort could have been minimal. In July, before the leaders of the U.S., Great Britain, and the Soviet Union met at Potsdam, the Japanese government sent several radio messages to its ambassador, Naotake Sato, in Moscow, asking him to request Soviet help in mediating a peace settlement. His Majesty is extremely anxious to terminate the war as soon as possible ..., said one communication. Should, however, the United States and Great Britain insist on unconditional surrender, Japan would be forced to fight to the bitter end.
On July 25, while the Potsdam meeting was taking place, Japan instructed Sato to keep meeting with Russian Foreign Minister Molotov to impress the Russians with the sincerity of our desire to end the war [and] have them understand that we are trying to end hostilities by asking for very reasonable terms in order to secure and maintain our national existence and honor (a reference to retention of the emperor).
Having broken the Japanese code years earlier, Washington did not have to wait to be informed by the Soviets of these peace overtures; it knew immediately, and did nothing. Indeed, the National Archives in Washington contains U.S. government documents reporting similarly ill-fated Japanese peace overtures as far back as 1943.
Thus, it was with full knowledge that Japan was frantically trying to end the war, that President Truman and his hardline secretary of state, James Byrnes, included the term unconditional surrender in the July 26 Potsdam Declaration. This final warning and expression of surrender terms to Japan was in any case a charade. The day before it was issued, Harry Truman had al- ready approved the order to release a 15 kiloton atomic bomb over the city of Hiroshima.
POLITICAL BOMBSHELL
Many U.S. military officials were less than enthusiastic about the demand for unconditional surrender or use of the atomic bomb. At the time of Potsdam, Gen. Hap Arnold asserted that conventional bombing could end the war. Adm. Ernest King believed a naval blockade alone would starve the Japanese into submission. Gen. Douglas MacArthur, convinced that retaining the emperor was vital to an orderly transition to peace, was appalled at the demand for unconditional surrender. Adm. William Leahy concurred. Refusal to keep the emperor would result only in making the Japanese desperate and thereby increase our casualty lists, he argued, adding that a nearly defeated Japan might stop fighting if unconditional surrender were dropped as a demand. At a loss for a military explanation for use of the bomb, Leahy believed that the decision was clearly a political one, reached perhaps because of the vast sums that had been spent on the project. Finally, we have Gen. Dwight Eisenhower's account of a conversation with Stimson in which he told the secretary of war that:
"Japan was already defeated and that dropping the bomb was completely unnecessary. ... I thought our country should avoid shocking world opinion by the use of a weapon whose employment was, I thought, no longer mandatory as a measure to save American lives. It was my belief that Japan was, at that very moment, seeking some way to surrender with a minimum loss of face. The secretary was deeply perturbed by my attitude, almost angrily refuting the reasons I gave for my quick conclusions."
BOMB-SLINGING DIPLOMATS
If, as appears to be the case, U.S. policy in 1945 was based on neither the pursuit of the earliest possible peace nor the desire to avoid a land invasion, we must look elsewhere to explain the dropping of the A-bombs.
It has been asserted that dropping of the atomic bombs was not so much the last military act of the Second World War as the first act of the Cold War. Although Japan was targeted, the weapons were aimed straight to the red heart of the USSR. For three-quarters of a century, the determining element of U.S. foreign policy, virtually its sine qua non, has been the communist factor. World War II and a battlefield alliance with the USSR did not bring about an ideological change in the anti-communists who owned and ran America. It merely provided a partial breather in a struggle that had begun with the U.S. invasion of the Soviet Union in 1918. It is hardly surprising then, that 25 years later, as the Soviets were sustaining the highest casualties of any nation in WW II, the U.S. systematically kept them in the dark about the A-bomb project while sharing information with the British.
According to Manhattan Project scientist Leo Szilard, Secretary of State Byrnes had said that the bomb's biggest benefit was not its effect on Japan but its power to make Russia more manageable in Europe.
The U.S. was planning ahead. A Venezuelan diplomat reported to his government after a May 1945 meeting that Assistant Secretary of State Nelson Rockefeller communicated to us the anxiety of the United States Government about the Russian attitude. U.S. officials, he said, were beginning to speak of Communism as they once spoke of Nazism and are invoking continental solidarity and hemispheric defense against it.
Churchill, who had known about the weapon before Truman, applauded and understood its use: Here then was a speedy end to the Second World War, he said about the bomb, and added, thinking of Russian advances into Europe, and perhaps to much else besides. ... We now had something in our hands which would redress the balance with the Russians.
Referring to the immediate aftermath of Nagasaki, Stimson wrote:
"In the State Department there developed a tendency to think of the bomb as a diplomatic weapon. Outraged by constant evidence of Russian perfidy, some of the men in charge of foreign policy were eager to carry the bomb for a while as their ace-in-the-hole. ... American statesmen were eager for their country to browbeat the Russians with the bomb held rather ostentatiously on our hip."
This policy, which came to be known as atomic diplomacy did not, of course, spring forth full-grown on the day after Nagasaki. The psychological effect on Stalin [of the bombs] was twofold, noted historian Charles L. Mee, Jr. The Americans had not only used a doomsday machine; they had used it when, as Stalin knew, it was not militarily necessary. It was this last chilling fact that doubtless made the greatest impression on the Russians.
KILLING NAGASAKI
After the Enola Gay released its cargo on Hiroshima, common sense common decency wouldn't apply here would have dictated a pause long enough to allow Japanese officials to travel to the city, confirm the extent of the destruction, and respond before the U.S. dropped a second bomb. At 11 o'clock in the morning of August 9, Prime Minister Kintaro Suzuki addressed the Japanese Cabinet: Under the present circumstances I have concluded that our only alternative is to accept the Potsdam Proclamation and terminate the war.
Moments later, the second bomb fell on Nagasaki. Some hundreds of thousands of Japanese civilians died in the two attacks; many more suffered terrible injury and permanent genetic damage. After the war, His Majesty the Emperor still sat on his throne, and the gentlemen who ran the United States had absolutely no problem with this. They never had."
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Entirely to much time as been devoted to this conversation. The important thing is that these bombs not be used again unless there is an asteroid heading for earth. The important thing is to remember people like this:
"Heroes are every day people who are called upon to face insurmountable challenges and somehow prevail. Ira Hamilton Hayes, a full blooded Pima Indian, was born on the Gila River Indian Reservation, just a few miles south of Chandler, Arizona, on January 12, 1923. He was the oldest of eight children born to Nancy and Jobe Hayes. By all accounts Ira was a quiet, solemn little boy, brought up by his deeply religious Presbyterian mother, who read the Bible aloud to her children, encouraged them to read on their own and made sure that they got the best available education. Ira attended the elementary school in Sacaton and had good grades. Upon completion, he entered the Phoenix Indian School, where he also did very well for a while. However, at the age of 19, in August of 1942, he quit school and enlisted in the Marines. Such a move was quite out of character for this shy, aloof young man of few words, who was never known to be competitive or enterprising. Apparently, he followed the war reports closely. After the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, he felt it his patriotic duty to serve. The Tribe approved, and after a proper sendoff he left for the boot camp.
It is a matter of fact, and a matter of pride, that Marine training is the toughest, the most demanding of all military preparations. Ira appreciated the discipline, the challenge, and the camaraderie. The slight young man soon became the sturdy warrior. He applied for parachute training and was accepted, when lesser candidates failed and were weeded out. James Bradley, in his book "The Flags of our Fathers," said that his buddies dubbed him "Chief Falling Cloud." Ira was sent to the South Pacific and lived the terrors and the horrors engulfing all the young men who fought the battles, who died, who were maimed and who survived.
Iwo Jima is a minuscule volcanic island about 700 mi. south of Tokyo. Its area is 8 square miles. Mount Suribachi is the highest peak at an elevation of 516 ft. It was a possible supply point for the allies and it was important to prevent the enemy from using it as such. On February 19, 1945 a rather large contingent of Marines landed on the island, facing an equally substantial army of Japanese defenders, well dug in and camouflaged. One of the bloodiest, fiercest four days of combat ensued, in the course of which the Marines took more casualties than in several months of battle at Guadalcanal. This is where events took an unexpected turn for Ira Hayes.
On February 23, 1945, forty Marines climbed Mount Suribachi in order to plant the American Flag on the top of the hill. Joe Rosenthal, an AP photographer took several shots of the event. One of them became the famous photograph that you see below, the picture which soon became the universal symbol that it still is today. Joe Rosenthal received the Pulitzer Prize. The six marines planting the flag in the photo were Mike Strank from Pennsylvania, Harlon Block from Texas, Franklin Sousley from Kentucky, John Bradley from Wisconsin, Rene Gagnon from New Hampshire and Ira Hayes from Arizona. Strank, Harlon, and Sousley died in combat.
The three survivors stayed alive to battle their own demons. Soon the heroes' parades began. The War Department needed visible, tangible heroes. These men were chosen. They went to Washington and met President Truman. The Treasury Department needed money and so the bond drive began. The heroes were paraded through 32 cities. They were applauded. They shook hands. They attended memorial unveilings. They appeared at banquets prepared in their honor. They signed many thousands of autographs. They gave interviews. They drank toasts, lots of toasts. All this while knowing full well that heroes and heroism had little to do with the brief moment of raising the flag. John Bradley and Ira Hayes resented the public displays in which they were the pawns. Rene Gagnon enjoyed it and hoped to build his future on it. He died some time later, bitterly disappointed.
When all the hoopla was over, they went home. John Bradley married his sweetheart, raised a family and never talked about the war. It is said that he cried in his sleep. Ira Hamilton Hayes returned to the reservation more turned inward, more enigmatic than ever. Whatever he saw and experienced remained locked within him. It devoured him. It has been said that he felt guilty for having been alive while so many of his comrades died. He felt guilty that he was considered a hero although so many had sacrificed so much more. He worked at menial jobs and tried to forget, but the phone calls and the tourists did not let up. He drowned his sorrow and sought salvation in the bottle. He was arrested about fifty times for drunkenness. On January 24, 1955, on a cold an dreary morning he was found dead -- literally dead drunk -- just a short distance from his home. The coroner said it was an "accident."
Ira Hamilton Hayes was buried in Arlington National Cemetery with customary pomp and circumstance. He was 32 years old." |
