The Decision to Drop the Atomic Bomb
- Shoumojit Banerjee
- Oct 21, 2024
- 3 min read
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.