Hiroshima's Shadow edited by Kai Bird and Lawrence
Lifschultz. (Pamphleteer's Press, 1998). 584 pp., $39.95 ($27.97
at Amazon)
Pamphleteer's Press, indeed! Here is a delightfully nutty tome
about U.S. culpability at Hiroshima. (Nagasaki was hit by a more
powerful bomb--the Fat Man plutonium bomb that became the postwar
standard for both the United States and Russia--but scarcely
merits a mention in the literature.) The book has no subtitle,
but the publishers thoughtfully provide one on the dustjacket:
"Writings on the Denial of History and the Smithsonian
Controversy." The controversy in question is the ill-fated
Enola Gay exhibit of 1995, which forced the resignation of
the director of the National Air & Space Museum.
A reviewer for Booklist offered a better subtitle for
the book: "The Revenge of the Revisionist Historians." It
includes essays and documents from a score of sources, almost all
of them calculated to put the U.S. and Harry Truman in a bad
light for their decision to use the atomic bomb against Japanese
cities. You'd be amazed whom the editors are able to enlist in
their camp: General Dwight Eisenhower, for example, who did
indeed have reservations about the bombing but who somehow
managed to serve eight years as commander-in-chief of the U.S.
nuclear forces whose bombs were mostly targeted on cities.
A more believable opponent is Admiral William Leahy. But you'd
never know, from Leahy's comments or those of the U.S. Strategic
Bombing Survey, that there was such a thing as inter-service
rivalry in the U.S. military. Of course Leahy didn't want the
USAAF to end the war with strategic bombing--he believed in the
efficacy of naval blockade. And of course the USSBS concluded
that Japan was about to surrender as a result of conventional
bombing--the survey's main purpose was to shore up the cause of
the Air Force as an independent military branch.
Basically, the revisionist thesis goes like this: Japan in the
summer of 1945 was desperately trying to surrender, asking only
that the Emperor remain on the throne (a condition that ulimately
was granted). However, Harry Truman under the sway of James
Byrnes and the U.S. military targeted two Japanese cities for
destruction in order to make Joseph Stalin listen to reason in
postwar Europe. (Stalin, of course, knew about the bomb in July
1945, and had good reason to believe that he would soon be in
possession of the technology that would enable Russia to clone
it.) To cover up this cruel and cynical decision, the U.S.
government then manufactured the myth that the bombs had been
dropped in order to avert 500,000 or 1 million American deaths or
casualties in a conventional invasion. Again, you'd be surprised
at the folks who took part in this vast conspiracy, among them
such famously right-wing publications as the Washington
Post and Newsweek.
Amazingly, I find no mention of what I regard as
the best source on what the Japanese were thinking in August
1945: Japan's Longest Day, published by the Pacific War
Research Society. (Hiroshima's Shadow doesn't have a unified
bibliography. Worse, it doesn't have an index. So I may be wrong
about this.)
Is there good stuff in here? Sure: an excellent essay by
Murray Sayle that first appeared in The New Yorker. Though
revisionist in intent (the title is "Did the Bomb End the War?")
it is sane and interesting. On the specific issue of the NASM
exhibit, there's a devastating critique of the revisionists'
perspective by Robert P. Newman, who perhaps not by accident is
not profiled in the appendix. Titled "What New Consensus?" it
first appeared in the Washington Post as a rebuttal to
a similarly placed essay by Gar Alperovitz. It's to the credit
of the editors, who obviously do not agree with Mr. Newman, that
they permitted his lonely voice to be heard among an otherwise
pretty much united chorus of anti-Truman, anti-American opinion.
What comes through more clearly than the intended points are
the unintended ones:
These essays have a great deal more to do with the Cold War
and the Vietnam War than with their ostensible subject.
In their zeal to condemn America's nuclear policy
after 1945, and its perceived aggression in Vietnam, the revisionist
scholars must rewrite the history of World War II.
Since 1945, an unbreachable wall has been erected between
the men who fight and those who write about fighting. We are
assured, in condemnation of Truman's decision to use the atomic
bombs rather than invade Japan, that American casualties in an
invasion would be "only" 26,000 to 40,000. It needs a college professor
who knows he'll never see combat to draw such such a conclusion.
(The figures also seems to be used incorrectly; I think they're two
estimates, one for the invasion of Kyushu and the other for Honshu,
for a combined total of 66,000.) That's the death of every man in
two, three, or four divisions.