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By:

Bhalchandra Chorghade

11 August 2025 at 1:54:18 pm

Applause for Cricket, Silence for Badminton

Mumbai: When Lakshya Sen walked off the court after the final of the All England Badminton Championships, he carried with him the disappointment of another near miss. The Indian shuttler went down in straight games to Lin Chun-Yi, who created history by becoming the first player from Chinese Taipei to lift the prestigious title. But the story of Lakshya Sen’s defeat is not merely about badminton final. It is also about the contrasting way India celebrates its sporting heroes. Had the same...

Applause for Cricket, Silence for Badminton

Mumbai: When Lakshya Sen walked off the court after the final of the All England Badminton Championships, he carried with him the disappointment of another near miss. The Indian shuttler went down in straight games to Lin Chun-Yi, who created history by becoming the first player from Chinese Taipei to lift the prestigious title. But the story of Lakshya Sen’s defeat is not merely about badminton final. It is also about the contrasting way India celebrates its sporting heroes. Had the same narrative unfolded on a cricket field, the reaction would have been dramatically different. In cricket, even defeat often becomes a story of heroism. A hard-fought loss by the Indian team can dominate television debates, fill newspaper columns and trend across social media for days. A player who narrowly misses a milestone is still hailed for his fighting spirit. The nation rallies around its cricketers not only in victory but also in defeat. The narrative quickly shifts from the result to the effort -- the resilience shown, the fight put up, the promise of future triumph. This emotional investment is one of the reasons cricket enjoys unparalleled popularity in India. It has built a culture where players become household names and their performances, good or bad, become part of the national conversation. Badminton Fights Contrast that with what happens in sports like badminton. Reaching the final of the All England Championships is a monumental achievement. The tournament is widely considered badminton’s equivalent of Wimbledon in prestige and tradition. Only the very best players manage to reach its final stages, and doing it twice speaks volumes about Lakshya Sen’s ability and consistency. Yet the reaction in India remained largely subdued. There were congratulatory posts, some headlines acknowledging the effort and brief discussions among badminton enthusiasts. But the level of national engagement never quite matched the magnitude of the achievement. In a cricketing context, reaching such a stage would have triggered days of celebration and analysis. In badminton, it often becomes just another sports update. Long Wait India’s wait for an All England champion continues. The last Indian to win the title was Pullela Gopichand in 2001. Before him, Prakash Padukone had scripted history in 1980. These victories remain among the most significant milestones in Indian badminton. And yet, unlike cricketing triumphs that are frequently revisited and celebrated, such achievements rarely stay in the mainstream sporting conversation for long. Lakshya Sen’s journey to the final should ideally have been viewed as a continuation of that legacy, a reminder that India still possesses the talent to challenge the world’s best in badminton. Instead, it risks fading quickly from public memory. Visibility Gap The difference ultimately comes down to visibility and cultural investment. Cricket in India is not merely a sport; it is an ecosystem built over decades through media attention, sponsorship, and mass emotional attachment. Individual sports, on the other hand, often rely on momentary bursts of recognition, usually during Olympic years or when a medal is won. But consistent performers like Lakshya Sen rarely receive the sustained spotlight that their achievements deserve. This disparity can also influence the next generation. Young athletes are naturally drawn to sports where success brings recognition, financial stability and national fame. When one sport monopolises the spotlight, others struggle to build similar appeal. Beyond Result Lakshya Sen may have finished runner-up again, but his performance at the All England Championship is a reminder that India continues to produce world-class athletes in disciplines beyond cricket. The real issue is not that cricket receives immense attention -- it deserves the admiration it gets. The concern is that athletes from other sports often do not receive comparable appreciation for achievements that are equally significant in their own arenas. If India aspires to become a truly global sporting nation, its applause must grow broader. Sporting pride cannot remain confined to one field. Because somewhere on a badminton court, an athlete like Lakshya Sen is fighting just as hard for the country’s colours as any cricketer on a packed stadium pitch. The only difference is how loudly the nation chooses to cheer.

The Decision to Drop the Atomic Bomb

The Decision to Drop the Atomic Bomb

This year, the Nobel Committee awarded the Nobel Peace Prize to Nihon Hidankyo, or the Japan Confederation of A- and H-bomb Sufferers Organizations - a national organization of groups of those who survived the 1945 atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.


U.S. President Harry S. Truman’s decision to deploy atomic bombs against a Japan supposedly on its knees remains one of the 20th century’s most contentious acts. Yet, the historical context behind this momentous choice has been obscured over time, shaped by later fears of nuclear annihilation and the rise of anti-nuclear movements during the Cold War period and beyond.


The actual history has been further distorted by critics within the U.S. military and diplomatic establishment itself, like Admiral William Leahy, who later claimed to have condemned Truman’s decision to use the A-bomb by comparing it to the ethical standards of the Dark Ages, arguing Japan was already collapsing under naval blockades and conventional attacks. Likewise, General Dwight D. Eisenhower, the Supreme Allied Commander in Europe and later U.S. President, had expressed discomfort with the bombings.


J. Robert Oppenheimer, the lead scientist of the Manhattan Project, became an advocate against nuclear weapons after witnessing their destruction, while Paul Nitze, a key U.S. strategist known for his famously hawkish stance, also believed Japan’s surrender could have been secured without the bombings.


Yet, historical evidence shows that even after dropping the bombs, military hotheads who controlled Japan, were far from ready to surrender. As historian Richard Frank, in his tremendous Downfall (1999), showed that Truman’s decision to unleash nuclear weapons was not only a profound military strategy but one that spared countless lives on both sides.


As Frank, through use of declassified secret documents, convincingly proves that Japan’s unwillingness to surrender justified Truman’s course of action, despite the bitter legacy of nuclear destruction.


By 1945, the bloody island-hopping campaigns in the Pacific, from Iwo Jima to Okinawa, had demonstrated the ferocity of Japan’s resistance. Casualty projections for the invasion of Japan itself ranged from 250,000 to a million for the Americans, and many millions for the Japanese. Truman, having seen how American forces had suffered in these gruelling battles, could not justify an even greater bloodbath when a faster, though horrific, option was at his disposal in form of the A-Bomb.


Even while the U.S. blockade had strangled Japanese economy and firebombing had left its cities (like Tokyo) in ruins, and the Soviet Union loomed on Japan’s northern horizon, the idea of an unconditional surrender was still vehemently opposed by large factions of Japan’s military elite. In the government of Emperor Hirohito, voices advocating for peace, like Prime Minister Kantaro Suzuki and Foreign Minister Shigenori Togo, were drowned out by the hawks, led by Army Minister Korechika Anami.


In fact, the best evidence in favour of Truman’s decision comes from the Japanese themselves: In 1965, ‘Japan’s Longest Day,’ a book compiled by the Pacific War Research Society (a panel of distinguished Japanese authors and journalists) conclusively put to rest the myth that Japan would have surrendered anyway without the display of American force.


The book graphically gives a picture of the last 24 hours leading to the Japanese surrender, detailing the internal struggle between Japan’s surrender advocates, like Suzuki and Togo, and military hardliners led by Anami (who later committed ‘seppuku’ or ritual suicide). The latter continued to believe that Japan could secure better terms by inflicting heavy casualties on American forces even after Hiroshima and Nagasaki were bombed.


On August 14, 1945, radical officers attempted a coup to stop Emperor Hirohito’s surrender broadcast, fearing it would dishonour Japan. Though the plot failed, it underscored the military’s stubbornness, suggesting that without the bombings, Japan’s resistance - and a U.S. invasion - would have led to even greater bloodshed.


Truman’s decision to drop the bombs was not about revenge for Pearl Harbour or the desire to showcase American technological superiority. In the postwar years, images of the mushroom clouds over Hiroshima and Nagasaki have become potent symbols of human folly, shaping the moral consciousness of future generations. But viewed in the cold light of history, Truman was justified by the strategic and humanitarian imperative to end the war swiftly. Had he hesitated, the Pacific theater would have devolved into a blood-soaked nightmare.

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