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October 23, 2023 by Nukewatch Leave a Comment

Democracy Now! Interviews Nukewatch

By John LaForge

Democracy Now! put Nukewatch on the air for the first time on August 10, tying together protest stories from the Netherlands and Germany, with host Amy Goodman announcing: “Ten peace activists were arrested on the runway of [a Dutch] air base in the Netherlands, where 15 U.S. nuclear bombs are stockpiled for NATO’s so-called ‘nuclear sharing’ program. The action came on the 78th anniversary of the U.S. atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. We’ll speak with John LaForge, co-director of Nukewatch, who just served a 50-day sentence in Germany for protesting U.S. nuclear weapons stationed at an air base there.” In a prompt for the report, LaForge said, “We take the Pentagon’s threatened use of nuclear weapons, known as ‘deterrence,’ very seriously, because, under law, this ongoing, credible, and well-rehearsed readiness to attack people with hydrogen bombs is an international criminal conspiracy to commit massacres using radiation and firestorms.”

Goodman interviewed Susan Crane, the Plowshares activist and Catholic Worker from California, and then asked LaForge to explain the protests.

He said in part, “We argued in trial that the stationing or the transfer of U.S. nuclear weapons to Germany is an unlawful act, a violation of Articles I and II of the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons. … We argued the case that nuclear weapons, their components and their delivery systems, in Germany and everywhere, are principally just instruments of international criminal activity, repudiated and prohibited, by international law, including and especially the Nuremberg Charter, the Nuremberg judgment and the Nuremberg principles.”

— Democracy Now! online at: https://www.democracynow.org/2023/8/10/nuclear_protests_netherlands

October 23, 2023 by Nukewatch 1 Comment

Before Hiroshima & Nagasaki there was Shinkolobwe

A worker in the Shinkolobwe mine the source of the uranium for the bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. AP Schalk Van Zuydam 2004.

By Kelly Lundeen

On August 6…, people around the world commemorated … the first atomic bombs … dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan. People gathered with flags and flowers to remember the effects and destruction caused by the thermal and nuclear radiation from the bombs. No such ceremony took place in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.
— Dr. Jean Bele, Congolese Nuclear Physicist at the MIT Laboratories

Before that uranium could destroy life in Japan, it first started by destroying life in Shinkolobwe.
— Joe-Yves Salankang Sa Ngol, Vice-Chairperson, Congolese Civil Society in South Africa

Roughly 80 percent of the uranium used for the world’s first atomic bombs came from the Shinkolobwe mine in the Belgian Congo, now known as Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC). As the name implies, the Belgian Congo was a colony. Forced labor was the norm for colonizers to exploit the rich natural resources, leaving the indigenous Congolese workers impoverished, sick, or dead from radiation exposure, working conditions, or murder.

One of the original stories of nuclear colonialism began in DRC after nuclear fission was discovered in 1938. Suddenly the high-grade Congolese uranium acquired new economic value. The Belgian company that managed the Shinkolobwe mine sold its first 4,200 metric tons of uranium to the U.S. to supply the Manhattan Project, and U.S. Army engineers were deployed to Shinkolobwe to deplete the uranium from the land.

Ironically, mine director Belgian Edgar Sengier, whose brutal working conditions led to the murder and irradiation of the Congolese, was rewarded: He was given the U.S. president’s Medal for Merit, despite a U.S. intelligence finding that he sold 1.5 million pounds of Congolese uranium to the Nazis.

While no records were kept of radiation-induced diseases or workers dying in the mines, some stories have been passed on — of genetically inherited malformations, and cancer. A deceased uranium miner’s granddaughter, Sylvie Bambemba Mwela, spoke of her grandfather at one of the Missing Link events. He died with his brain coming out of his mouth.

Overcoming inhumane conditions, miners at Shinkolobwe organized for an increase in wages, then equivalent to 20 cents a day. Around 1,000 workers went on strike in 1941 and won an agreement with management. Instead of signing the contract as strike leader Léonard Mpoyi demanded, the colonial governor shot and killed him. After that, 70 more workers were killed by soldiers. Resistance was met with the most severe repression, but the strike succeeded in a 40% raise.

In the eyes of Western colonizers, the lives of the Congolese workers were considered completely expendable, and they have never been recognized, much less compensated for their suffering. — Wired, Aug. 21, 2023; BBC, Aug. 3, 2020; Talking Humanities, Aug. 18, 2016; Tom Zoellner, Uranium, 2009.

October 23, 2023 by Nukewatch Leave a Comment

The Missing Link Event: A battle for justice and reparations for Shinkolobwe’s negative uranium legacy

By Isaiah Mombilo
Edited by Leona Morgan with permission

Editor’s note: The Congolese Civil Society of South Africa (CCSSA) is a non-governmental organization based in Cape Town, South Africa with a mission of “Uniting all Congolese and all African[s] living in South Africa under one umbrella regardless of their ethnic, religious or political origin, country and views.” This summer, CCSSA held its annual event called “The Missing Link” which is aimed at telling the world the story of Shinkolobwe uranium mine, a deliberately erased but essential part of the Manhattan Project. This year’s hybrid event featured local speakers, music and dance as well as presenters from around the world, including Haruko Moritaki from Hiroshima.

The CCSSA commemorated the 78th anniversary of the tragic end of the Second World War on Sunday, July 30, 2023.

This end was happy in that it marked the culmination of five years of combat and hostility; however, the victory of one camp shocked the collective human conscience following the disastrous bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in Japan.

Everything seems to have been said about this atrocious war and the start of the nuclear arms race, and yet, nearly eight decades later, an important part of the story still remains unknown, if not hidden. This is what the CCSSA has been fighting to reveal and enshrine in the official narrative for eight years now through an annual event titled, “The Missing Link.”
This year’s event consisted of several parts starting with paying tribute to the memory of all the Japanese victims of the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. A candle was lit and a minute of silence was held in their memory.

There were talks about the bomb and its impacts, testimonies from victims and descendants of victims who survived and became anti-nuclear activists. There were presentations about the Shinkolobwe uranium mine with its uniquely rich uranium ore deposit of 65 percent [today, mines are often 2 percent or less], and about the route this uranium took throughout the Manhattan Project.

Lastly, there were testimonies from Indigenous Peoples fighting nuclear impacts in the United States and India, followed by a message from CCSSA Vice-chairperson Joe-Yves Salankang Sa Ngol entitled “Shinkolobwe: A City That Doesn’t Exist.”
Salankang Sa Ngol explained why the name “Shinkolobwe” does not appear anywhere in the official World War II narrative.

First, the U.S. Americans and Belgians had this small village removed not only from the narrative, but also from the map of the Congo to prevent their German adversaries from knowing where the precious uranium was located. Secondly, these two countries did not want to be held responsible for the mass crimes committed during the extraction of the uranium. Congolese were sent into the depths of the mine to extract this dangerous ore without any appropriate protective equipment. They extracted, sorted, transported and loaded it without protection, and its highly radioactive waste was abandoned in the open air for years. No concrete action has been taken to dismantle the mine’s remaining infrastructure, to clean up the site, or even to complete an assessment of the radiation risks to surrounding populations.

This year, the gathering of voices from several continents, from both the point of origin of the Shinkolobwe uranium and its final resting place, is proof that gradually the world is learning of this missing link.

Together, let’s work for a denuclearized and healthy world.

For full reflection by Isaiah Mombilo, visit: congolesecivilsocietysa.org/resources.
To see the 2023 Missing Link event: facebook.com/congolesecivilsocietyofsouthafrica.

October 17, 2023 by Nukewatch Leave a Comment

Above and Below the Mushroom Cloud

Letter by Yukiyo Kawano, edited by Lindsay Potter

“We are all agents of history, regardless of our consciousness or intentions.”

— Joseph Gerson, With Hiroshima Eyes

Yukiyo Kawano, a U.S.-based visual artist, born and raised in Hiroshima, circulated a letter earlier this year to engender critical analysis in the anti-nuclear movement. Seventy-eight years after the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Kawano’s letter questions the perspective and portrayal of the dominant U.S. historical narrative, which isolates U.S. atomic policy from those it victimizes. Kawano’s letter concerns an inflatable mushroom cloud artistically rendered by Pedro Reyes and exhibited in several U.S. cities in 2022. Excerpts from her letter appear in italics below.

[Reyes’s] image…coincides with the image taken by a U.S. military aircraft from the sky of the mushroom cloud rising from the Nagasaki atomic bomb. Is it an image that instantly offers viewers a space to safely assume that the photographer/military personnel has all the possible means to escape to minimize their exposure to radiation? Such a view was never offered for people who were at the ground level in Nagasaki (or Hiroshima) … I worry about the normalization of such an image.

Without asking critical questions we remain subjected to a state-sponsored historical record. Why does the official U.S. narrative surrounding the 9/11 attacks focus on “ground zero” and on images of victims’ families, but the U.S. government portrayal of the atomic bombings presents the military victors’ perspective? Similarly, we have a vast library of books, films, and museum archives to preserve the perspective of victims of Nazi Germany. This is an important history, but it stands in contrast to the lack of such memorialization for those who suffered under U.S. militarism. It is clear: when the U.S. can be portrayed as the victor and savior, or if U.S. lives are lost, the suffering of victims is essential to the story. When the U.S. perpetrates genocide and human rights atrocities, the faces of victims go unseen.

The U.S. bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki instantaneously took the lives of every living being in their proximity. The mushroom shaped cloud that arose from the detonation was an accumulation of ash from the city itself. That Cloud contains our grandparents’ flesh and bones … How do we address the issue … so as to avoid reinstating the violence… engage in a discussion of ways we can ensure equity around artwork that deals with historical trauma … we all react with different degrees of intensity to potent images depending on our frames of reference…whether we know anyone who has been impacted.”

The disarmament movement must resist criminal policy while also advocating a more accurate public understanding, one that debunks the propaganda of nationalism and lifts up the voices it seeks to silence. Howard Zinn famously said that controlling people’s sense of history can make them believe anything. Kawano and others elevating hibakusha voices are reminders that stories and images make up the foundation of our history and cultural identity.

Yukiyo Kawano received a response from the Union of Concerned Scientists including concrete steps organizations can take to shift this paradigm. Here are full versions of Yukio Kawano’s original letter and the response from the Union of Concerned Scientists:

Yukio Kawano’s Letter:

My name is Yukiyo Kawano, I am a U.S. based visual artist, born and raised in Hiroshima. I am sending you an email to talk about the inflatable sculpture that Mr. Pedro Reyes has been installing in many cities including NYC, in Times Square in June, 2022 (https://www.alonzocoburn.com/pedro-reyes). I understand that this project was commissioned by the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists as well as other anti-nuclear organizations based in the U.S.

I trust that the artist spent time studying the Hiroshima/Nagasaki discourse and that his intentions are good; however, I do worry about the normalization of such an image. Also I am hoping to make a specific argument for the need of a critical analysis that hasn’t yet been incorporated into the anti-nuclear movement as it has within other movements.

Art pieces often work as a public’s unraveling of various social and environmental issues. Today’s artists are constantly being asked to see and question what is at stake: Who is telling the story? Who is silenced in the process? What is the nature of history? Who is assumed to be the viewer in a given context? In this case the installation of an inflatable sculpture that depicts the colossal, visual effect of an atomic bomb explosion, commissioned by anti-nuclear organizations based in the U.S., and sector of the Mexican government.

The question that we must ask ourselves is whether the artist is exempt from the need to scrutinize the project on its own terms, and in its larger context of, for example, the ICAN/ the TPNW? Can the artistic intention to redeem or transmogrify succeed with any symbol associated with historically contentious events, not to say atrocities? I think that the symbolic image archived on the artist’s website shows that we all react with different degrees of intensity to potent images depending on our frames of reference, for example, what we know about their references, whether we know anyone who has been impacted.

The first image (the symbol) on the website taken from overhead, gives a birdseye view that coincides with the image taken by a U.S. military aircraft from the sky of the mushroom cloud rising from the Nagasaki atomic bomb. Is it an image that instantly offers viewers a space to safely assume that the photographer/military personnel has all the possible means to escape to minimize their exposure to radiation? Such a view was never offered for people who were at the ground level in Nagasaki (or Hiroshima) on that critical day. People who’ve been working from this ground-level perspective, such as a scholar and writer Yuki Miyamoto (Beyond the Mushroom Cloud 2011), have been projecting this specific viewpoint of ground zero (https://www.fordhampress.com/9780823240500/beyond-the-mushroom-cloud/).

The U.S. bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki instantaneously took the lives of every living being in their proximity. The mushroom shaped cloud that arose from the detonation was an accumulation of ash of the city itself. That Cloud contains our grandparents’ flesh and bones. Again, the question here is what is the framework around the artwork that constitutes historical trauma? How do we address the issue to be respectful of the difficult and often painful feelings that arise from this artwork so as to avoid reinstating the violence?

I am currently working on a protocole that looks at how we can democratize knowledge for artists and activists.

I would like to invite Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists as well as other ICAN supporters to engage in a discussion of ways we can ensure equity around artwork that deals with historical trauma germane to a specific place, specific common-history, and generations that have been affected. What is the artist’s responsibility when addressing a hypothetical /probable global-based future using the evidence of what has already happened in these communities? A good start to this discussion would be a piece by Lilly Adams of the Union of Concerned Scientists, which looks at how we can work with impacted people in ways that are inclusive, diverse and equitable (https://www.nuclearvoices.org/post/working-equitably-with-nuclear-frontline-communities).

Also to be considered among contemporary art practitioners is how the material condition gives rise to specific art objects, namely, the polyethylene film that was used for the inflatable sculpture along with the 12,075 rocket-shaped balloons which were handed out at the venue to onlookers. This opens another set of considerations about how art, seeking to address an issue, can be unaware of the politics of its very production, ignoring how its production and dissemination contributes to the climate crisis.

From a singular “woman of color” perspective, I would recommend an examination of the “authorized righteousness” of a large portion of the movement who believe it to be their voice, their moral duty to decide how these images are purveyed regardless of reinstating trauma.

It takes tremendous will for women of color to voice our concerns in a world where we suffer from many forms of violence. Asian-Americans are “encouraged” not to speak out, which causes self-censorship. We are pressured by a large percentage of people in our community who want to keep the status quo. The American response to these issues is difficult for Japanese nationals to understand. People who have not had an opportunity to question their circumstances, never given an escape route from aspiring whiteness, are hostage to this normalization in which they constantly suffer systemic violence.

Response from Union of Concerned Scientists:

Dear Yukiyo,

On behalf of the Global Security Program at the Union of Concerned Scientists, we want to sincerely thank you for taking the time to write this letter (“A letter to Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists”) and share it with us and others in our community. We know that writing about trauma and personal experiences of nuclear harm can be painful and draining. We see this letter as a gift, which has allowed our team to consider new perspectives, engage in deep self-reflection, and start an important discussion. Your letter is a thoughtful contribution to the ongoing conversation in the larger nuclear NGO community about equity and representation. We are also glad to see the dialogue already underway between you and the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists.

Through our long association with the Bulletin, we’ve come to appreciate that they consulted with and included some impacted communities in the event. We recognize that Hibakusha and other impacted communities are not a monolith, and there are likely a diversity of reactions to this kind of art or event. Regardless, speaking only for ourselves and as participants in this event, we apologize for our own lack of consideration about the implications for frontline communities. We wish we had thought more carefully about what the imagery and event itself would mean for impacted communities. We apologize for any trauma or inequities that our participation perpetuated for you or any others. More generally, we have realized oversights and gaps in our efforts to address equity, justice, and support of frontline communities in the nuclear space, and are still learning about these issues and shifting our programming to be more responsive.

We are actively engaged in discussions about how to do better, and we hope we can continue to have those conversations with you, other artists and frontline community members, and others who work in the nuclear weapons community. Our conversations are just beginning, but in direct relation to this letter, we are undertaking the following actions:

• Reviewing our imagery and language across our website and other digital media and
working to replace images that portray nuclear harm from the “victors” perspective
with perspectives and voices of sufferers. We would welcome your, and other
frontline community, partnership and guidance on this effort.

• While we have long-standing work with frontline communities, it’s clear that we still
have a lot to learn. We commit to deepening our work with these communities,
seeking their guidance, working to elevate their voices and perspective, and
supporting them in having a role in decision making on nuclear policy.

• Specifically, we have worked with hibakusha and around the anniversaries of the
bombings in Japan in many ways over the years, for example through blog posts,
various social media and multimedia projects, and community wide initiatives. We
are interested in reviewing this work and also receiving input from you and others on
if it has felt harmful or offensive to impacted communities.

• More broadly, we aim to ask questions of all our work, not just that directly related to
or with frontline communities, including the questions you posed in your letter:

o Who is telling the story; who is silenced? What is the nature of the history?
How do we avoid reinstating violence?

• Supporting continued conversation on these issues in the larger community that
works in the nuclear weapons space. This could involve creating additional
opportunities for frontline community artists to share their perspectives.

We are doing this in conjunction with broader program and organization-wide anti-racism, justice, equity, diversity, and inclusion initiatives, which our team is committed to continuing, recognizing that this work must be life-long and ongoing.

Finally, we welcome feedback on these action steps and everything we have written here.

Sincerely,
The Global Security Team at the Union of Concerned Scientists

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