The war that ended, the suffering that didn't

Express Tribune

2 days ago

It is well known that when power is left unchecked, it can lead to disaster. Throughout history, numerous individuals and nations have struggled to emerge as the dominant power, but there is one that remains undefeated — the United States of America. John Hersey's Hiroshima explores this country's relentless pursuit of global dominance through the lives of six survivors and the tragic bombing of Hiroshima. Though this event occurred decades ago, we remain subversive beings, dominated and controlled by the US.
Hiroshima remains relevant in today's world, while in the modern era, as the US continues to exert its influence through military interventions, economic pressures, and political maneouvering, Hiroshima remains a crucial text for understanding how power is wielded at the expense of human lives.
Published in 1946, this book takes a narrative-driven approach, describing the lives of six survivors — two doctors, two women, a Catholic priest, and a factory worker — before, during, and after the atomic bombing of Hiroshima on August 6, 1945. The book is divided into four sections: the immediate impact of the bomb, the survivors' experiences in the aftermath, their struggles in the following weeks, and a final chapter, added 40 years later, examining their long-term physical and emotional scars. Additionally, the structure brings these characters to life in a powerful way, as it documents their entire experience. Hersey doesn't focus on just one instance or occasion; rather, he elaborates on how the past, present, and future of these individuals were completely shattered by the bombing. This is one of the book's greatest strengths, as it allows readers to connect with the narrative on a deeper level.
To truly understand a tragedy and draw parallels between different time periods, it is imperative that an author humanise their characters by presenting various aspects of their lives. Hersey achieves this by providing detailed descriptions of his characters, such as Mr Tanimoto's background: 'There was another thing, too: Mr Tanimoto had studied theology at Emory College, in Atlanta, Georgia; he had graduated in 1940; he spoke excellent English; he dressed in American clothes; he had corresponded with many American friends right up to the time the war began; and among a people obsessed with a fear of being spied upon — perhaps almost obsessed himself — he found himself growing increasingly uneasy' (Hersey 10). Moreover, Hersey's depiction of the immediate and long-term effects of the atomic bomb compels readers to connect with the survivors' suffering. For example, Miss Sasaki, trapped under debris for hours, not only endures severe physical injury but also faces a life permanently altered by disability and isolation. Her pain is poignantly conveyed in the line: 'There, in the tin factory, in the first moment of the atomic age, a human being was crushed by books' (Hersey 22). Similarly, Father Kleinsorge's quiet suffering, as he battles ongoing illness due to radiation sickness, mirrors the fate of countless hibakusha (survivors of the bombing), who endured discrimination and health struggles long after the war ended. While reading the book, I constantly found myself linking this tragedy to the present-day world order. To me, Hiroshima still exists today because the US continues to wreak havoc and destruction in many nations.
The book illustrates how a sense of normalcy is suddenly shattered by a country's decision to test atomic weapons without any regard for human lives. This remains our reality today. In an instant, war can erupt, a nation can launch an attack, lives can be lost, and international agreements can be breached — all it takes is a single moment for normalcy to be disrupted. This is precisely what we observe in the book from the very beginning. As readers, we are aware that something devastating is about to befall the characters, yet they are merely going about their daily lives when their world is completely upended. More often than not, it is the US that chooses to play the villain, justifying its actions in various ways. But Hiroshima is not confined to one place. You will find Hiroshima in Iraq, in Afghanistan, in the Middle East, and in all the countries that the US has treated as secondary. Hersey's text forces readers to reflect on the immense power this nation wields and raises an unsettling question: to what extent will it remain unchecked? And once this power fades, which nation — perhaps China or Russia — will scramble to seize it?
Moreover, several instances in the book illustrate the aftermath of the bombing and how the victims adapted to their new, devastated world. These depictions reminded me of present-day Palestine, Syria, Yemen, and other war-torn regions where civilians are forced to endure unimaginable suffering. Just as Hiroshima's residents became collateral damage in a larger geopolitical struggle, modern wars continue to dehumanise victims, treating them as mere statistics rather than individuals with lives, dreams, and families. Hersey captures this ongoing struggle through his poignant portrayal of the survivors: 'A year after the bomb was dropped, Miss Sasaki was a cripple; Mrs Nakamura was destitute; Father Kleinsorge was back in the hospital; Dr Sasaki was not capable of the work he once could do; Dr Fujii had lost the thirty-room hospital it took him many years to acquire and had no prospects of rebuilding it; Mr Tanimoto's church had been ruined, and he no longer had his exceptional vitality. The lives of these six people, who were among the luckiest in Hiroshima, would never be the same.' (Hersey 89). This passage underscores one of the book's greatest strengths: its ability to humanise the victims and show that survival does not equate to an end of suffering. The destruction of Hiroshima was not just about immediate death — it was about irreversible loss, both physical and emotional, that extended long after the bomb had fallen. This mirrors the reality of millions today who, even after the airstrikes have ceased or the conflicts have subsided, must navigate a shattered world with no hope of returning to the life they once knew. Hersey's text forces readers to recognise that Hiroshima is not just a historical event; it is a recurring tragedy, playing out in different forms across the globe. It serves as a stark reminder that, despite decades of progress, war continues to erase entire communities, leaving survivors to pick up the pieces in a world that often turns a blind eye.
As we discussed in class, the bombing of Hiroshima has been framed in US narratives as a necessity — an unavoidable act to hasten the end of World War II. According to this perspective, the attack was justified to prevent further casualties and bring about peace. However, Hersey's text deconstructs this view by presenting the personal suffering of civilians, shifting the focus from military strategy to human tragedy. Instead of reinforcing the dominant narrative of triumph and justification, Hiroshima forces readers to confront the devastating, long-term consequences of war on ordinary people — those who had no role in the decisions that sealed their fate.Hersey's journalistic writing style plays a crucial role in this deconstruction. His detailed, matter-of-fact descriptions strip away political rhetoric, replacing it with an intimate portrayal of loss, pain, and survival. By following the lives of six individuals, he makes the horrors of war accessible and deeply personal, ensuring that history does not erase their suffering in favor of abstract discussions of strategy and victory. The neutrality of his prose makes the destruction even more chilling; there is no embellishment, no overt condemnation — just raw, undeniable reality.
In conclusion, Hersey's text forces us to question existing power structures and the limits placed upon them — if any truly exist. The book serves as a reminder that history is often written by the victors, allowing those in power to justify destruction in the name of progress, security, or peace. Ultimately, Hiroshima is more than a historical account — it is a call to remember, to question, and to resist the dangerous normalisation of war and destruction.
Syeda Fizza Jafri is a media student and a freelance writer
All facts are information are the sole responsibility of the writer