Photo/Illutration PHOTO CAPTION: The iconic remains of the Hiroshima Prefectural Industrial Promotion Hall, now known as the Hiroshima Atomic Bomb Dome, is a symbol of both the horrors of nuclear war and the hope for peace. Before the atomic bombing, this part of Hiroshima was the central commercial district. (Photo by Lisa Vogt)

Lost in my thoughts, gazing up at the Atomic Bomb Dome, I overheard a tour guide tell his group of teenage visitors that Japan surrendered not because of the atomic bomb but because Russia had declared war.

Standing before the iconic edifice with the skeleton dome while hearing what he said, I was reminded of one of my early encounters in Japan.

I asked some local high schoolers about their thoughts on World War II, and the first thing out of their mouths was, “Bakudan otosareta” (We were bombed) in what I took to be an accusatory, victim tone. How interesting, I remember thinking.

As a person educated in the U.S. educational system, the first notion I might have verbalized was the same, “Pearl Harbor.” Although children are taught in school that history is multifaceted, the idea that penetrated and remained for both sides was the bombing.

My fourth-grade teacher told us that Japan started the war, and we ended it with the atomic bomb, which prevented a devastating boots-on-the-ground scenario, and that this was a win-win for both sides. Standing on ground zero, I shook my head and sighed.

The skeleton of the Hiroshima Industrial Promotion Hall (now Atomic Bomb Dome), once a gorgeous art deco hall built in 1915 by Czech architect Jan Letzel (1880-1925), is preserved today as one of the most familiar reminders of the attack.

The first atomic bomb used against human beings exploded about 600 meters above the ground at 8:15 on the morning of Aug. 6, 1945, and left the dome’s skeleton intact. Hiroshima had a population of about 350,000 when the bomb was dropped.

A radius of 1.6 kilometers from the epicenter of the bomb experienced total destruction. Only the structure of the hall remained standing. Shortly after the bombing, the city was showered with radioactive “black rain.”

When the war ended, many fact-finding missions, study tours, school excursions and sightseers flocked to the Atomic Bomb Dome. By the 1950s, however, the area had become overgrown with weeds, and the building started disintegrating from the cracks in the walls.

People argued whether to tear down the painful reminder or preserve it. In 1996, the building was designated as a World Heritage Site. It currently attracts more than a million visitors a year.

People today bear no responsibility for what has happened in the past. We do, however, have a responsibility for what lies in the future. The Atomic Bomb Dome stands as a reminder that through education and dialogue, perhaps there is hope for a peaceful tomorrow.

***

This article by Lisa Vogt, a Washington-born and Tokyo-based photographer, originally appeared in the April 16 issue of Asahi Weekly. It is part of the series "Lisa’s UNESCO World Heritage Sites in Japan," which depicts various sites of outstanding universal value across the country through the perspective of the author, a professor at Aoyama Gakuin University. 

Related News