Research Center for Nuclear Weapons Abolition

“This Nobel Peace Prize is one we have received together with everyone.”
A few days after the announcement, these words by Ms. Masako Wada, deputy secretary general of Nihon Hidankyo, deeply resonated with me. The hibakusha, while bearing unimaginable suffering and sorrow, stood up with the determination to “save humanity from its crisis through the lessons learned from our experiences” (“Message to the World,” founding declaration of Nihon Hidankyo in 1956). Their testimony fostered international solidarity and paved the way for the adoption of the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons in July 2017. I was there at that historic moment, and visited Oslo later that year in December for the Nobel Peace Prize award ceremony for the International Campaign to Abolish Nuclear Weapons (ICAN). It was an experience I will never forget.

The significance of the hibakusha’s lifelong efforts to tell the world “what happened under the mushroom cloud” goes beyond the nuclear weapons abolition movement. Although war is prohibited under international law and civilians are meant to be protected, many civilians are still falling victim to wars today in Ukraine and the Middle East. In the face of these realities, the hibakusha ask a crucial question, “Who suffers in war?” They urge us to consider the reality of the “attacked side” rather than focusing on the logic of the “attacking side.” They challenge us to move beyond the limits of security based on power and mistrust, and instead to pursue security rooted in empathy and solidarity.

The “power of transmission” inherent in the hibakusha’s testimonies questions the logic of the attacking side and serves as a driving force to build a world free of nuclear weapons and war. It is my mission, as someone who was involved in the nuclear weapons abolition movement and is now in academia, to inherit this energy and disseminate ideas about security based on empathy and solidarity from Nagasaki. This is where I see the meaning of the “power of transmission” for me. How will we, as the successors to the hibakusha, develop the power to transmit their legacy to people both within Japan and around the world? On this 80th anniversary of the atomic bombing, I hope we can contemplate this question together here in Nagasaki. — Kimiaki Kawai

The moment the Nobel Peace Prize Committee announced the name “Nihon Hidankyo,” countless faces, including those who have already departed this world, vividly appeared in my mind. These were the faces of hibakusha who profoundly shaped my perspective and influenced the path I have chosen. Without their presence, my approach to the work I do today be entirely different. And I am not alone in this sentiment. Among researchers, practitioners, and NGO workers committed to the abolition of nuclear weapons, many reflect that their encounters with hibakusha transformed their lives in ways they could never have anticipated.

What has stirred hearts around the world and inspired collective action is not solely the haunting accounts of “that day”—August 6 or 9—shared by hibakusha. It is the profound philosophy and unwavering resolve embodied in their lives. Their tireless plea, “Let no one else ever experience this,” delivered often at great personal sacrifice, has resonated deeply and universally, moving countless individuals to reflect and act.

The Founding Declaration of Nihon Hidankyo was issued in August 1956, 11 years after the atomic bombings. At that time, there was no formal support for any hibakusha from the Japanese government. Many hibakusha were grappling with severe physical and emotional scars, economic hardship, and pervasive discrimination and prejudice. The testimonies they left behind are heartrending, expressing not only anguish over their fates but, at times, envy for those who had perished in the bombings. Yet, even amidst such profound pain and inner conflict, hibakusha found the strength to rise. As their declaration boldly proclaimed, “We can no longer remain silent. Let us join hands and stand together.”

In the 68 years since, hibakusha have exemplified the remarkable capacity of humanity to transcend cycles of violence and hatred. This has never been an easy undertaking. Yet, in the face of daunting challenges, they refused to abandon hope. They empathized with the suffering of others, sought dialogue, and committed themselves to the pursuit of the common good. Their actions stand in stark contrast to a world increasingly defined by distrust and violence, offering a powerful reminder of humanity’s potential to overcome even the gravest of trials. In a time when conflict and bloodshed persist, we must once again draw inspiration from the enduring legacy of the hibakusha.　— Keiko Nakamura