Das Atombombenmuseum Hiroshima: Erinnern jenseits der Nation (1945-1975)

In the introduction of her book Das Atombombenmuseum Hiroshima: Erinnern jenseits der Nation (1945–1975) [The Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum: Remembering beyond the nation (1945–1975)] (2018), Stefanie Schäfer states that the name Hiroshima nowadays is a “worldwide synonym for the beginning of the nuclear age and the continuing threat of nuclear weapons” (p. 11). Even though “Little Boy” and “Fat Man” were the only atomic bombs ever used in warfare over 74 years ago, nuclear warfare still is a threat to humankind today. As political conflicts such as the tensions between the United States and North Korea frequently seem to be on the verge of escalation, remembering those first unprecedented nuclear catastrophes of Hiroshima and Nagasaki becomes more important than ever.

With her decision to primarily investigate local actors involved in the process of building the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum, Schäfer offers an important contribution to the field of memory studies. Based on extensive archival research alongside skilful use of the Chūgoku Shinbun, one of Japan’s largest local newspapers, her analysis of the museum exhibition adds new perspectives and shows new connections between the development of the local and the national collective memory. But how and why do we remember Hiroshima, the first city ever destroyed by a single bomb on the 6 of August 1945, the way we do? Many researchers, such as Dower (1995) or Okuda (2010), tend to focus on the national memory culture of Japan. However, as the title anticipates, Schäfer departs from the national level to concentrate on local decision-makers in politics, economics, and civic institutions to paint a more distinctive picture of post-war Japan. She investigates three decades between 1945 and 1975, which show different developmental stages of the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum and of the public memory discourse.

Das Atombombenmuseum Hiroshima reads like a cohesive study and follows a chronologically structured golden thread. In the elaborate introduction, Schäfer defines the greater historical and political context of the study and explains the theoretical background concerning the concept of collective memory on which her analysis is based. Although this may sound rather theoretical and complex, it should not deter potential readers with different academic or non-academic backgrounds from engaging with her study. Schäfer’s endeavour to explain complex memory theory in an appropriate yet easily comprehensible way makes it an enjoyable reading for those who are willing to learn more about Japanese post-war history and to challenge their own assumptions towards its post-war society.¹

Concentrating on the time between 1945 and 1975, the author closes a gap in academic research on Japanese post-war museum developmental history. As a lot of research deals with the time period after the occupation by the allied forces (1945–1952), Schäfer’s study is a highly valuable source of information on Hiroshima and how the atomic bombing was perceived during those early post-war years. The main part of the book consists of four major chapters.² The first three are each dedicated to one decade between 1945 and 1975. Their titles, “2. Erinnerungsarbeit in Zeiten des Wiederaufbaus: Die Gründung des Museums (1945–1955)” [2. Memory work in times of reconstruction: The foundation of the museum (1945–1955)], “3. Die Atombombe zwischen Kaltem Krieg und Zukunftstechnologie: Die Anfangsjahre des Museums (1955–1965)” [3. The atomic bomb between cold war and future technology: The early years of the museum (1955–1965)] and “4. Die Konsolidierung des Atombombenerinnerns: Die Neugestaltung des Museums (1965–1975)” [4. The consolidation of the atomic bomb memory: The reshaping of the museum (1965–1975)] show three developmental stages of the museum: Planning, opening, and reopening. The fourth chapter of the main part, “5. Die weitere Entwicklung des Museums bis heute” [5. The subsequent development of the museum until today] briefly summarizes the contemporary museum history from 1975 onwards. As the titles of these four main chapters already suggest, Schäfer shows how the collective Hiroshima memory changed together with the development and reshaping of the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum.

The first chapter of the main part (Chapter 2) deals with the first decade after the bombing. Due to censorship by the occupying power, literary sources depicting Japan between the years 1945 and 1952 are obviously scarce. This is especially true for Hiroshima, where the company headquarters of the Chūgoku Shinbun had been destroyed by the bomb. Nonetheless, the newspaper started publishing again only 3 days after the bombing, which makes it an invaluable source of media coverage. Schäfer had to rely strongly on the media coverage of this newspaper for reconstructing the developmental history of the museum, which on the one hand shows the importance of journalism for this kind of research, and on the other hand, highlights how limited the museum authorities’ options were to work on their own chronicles.

Thanks to the support of the Chūgoku Shinbun, Schäfer was able to include rare photographs in her work. These pictures are a valuable addition to the study itself, especially when she analyses the first exhibition after the completion of the museum construction in 1955, the special exhibition “Atoms for Peace” in 1956, the “Hiroshima Restoration Exhibition” in 1958, and the reopening in 1973 after a major reorganisation of the exhibition concept.

Considering the history of the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, one can only wonder why modern Japan heavily relies on nuclear energy. In the second main chapter (Chapter 3), Schäfer sheds light on this seemingly paradoxical Japanese attitude towards the atomic by analysing the special exhibition “Atoms for Peace” – named after the famous Eisenhower speech of 1953. This chapter alone is a clear recommendation for everyone interested in understanding how nuclear energy in Japan still is regarded as controllable and safe, and the foundation for a prosperous society. Referring to the exhibition concept, Schäfer shows how the dichotomy of the good atom (nuclear power) and the bad atom (nuclear bomb) developed in the Japanese collective memory. In this respect, this chapter is a real eye-opener.

The third main chapter (Chapter 4) deals with the reopening of the museum after major changes in the exhibition. Again, Schäfer shows the connections between public memory discourse and the exhibition concept. While the first exhibition could rather be described as a broad collection of artefacts affected by the atomic bomb with the aim to provide scientific information on nuclear technology, the remodelled exhibition of 1973 strongly emphasized the fates of the atomic bomb victims, the hibakusha, and introduced reconstruction as a new exhibition technique, e.g. in the form of 3D dioramas with wax figures. This new consciousness of being the war victim not only has its roots in the minds of local citizens but also turned into a national narrative.

In the last main chapter (Chapter 5), the author briefly summarizes how the museum changed from 1975 until today. Schäfer often refers to Lisa Yoneyama’s ethnographic study Hiroshima Traces (1999), which examines the two decades of the 1980s and 1990s. Hiroshima Traces is considered to be one of the most important works about collective Hiroshima memory. Subsequently, Schäfer chose an earlier time period for her own study but also does not want to leave the reader dissatisfied with a lack of information on further development of the museum exhibition. In addition to her overview of more recent changes, she also touches on the possible outcome of the still ongoing renovations of the main building, which reopened in April 2019.

With her book, Schäfer takes the reader on a journey through 30 years of museum history. Her study answers many questions – how and why we remember Hiroshima the way we do is only one of them. Schäfer argues that the role of the museum never really was to be a place of remembrance, but rather to function as a “reminder”, especially in times when the number of hibakusha, the last contemporary witnesses of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, is steadily decreasing. With her study, she fully takes this important role of the museum into account, which also can be seen as an appeal to concentrate more on the importance of the local when conducting research on national issues. Her research also shows how the collective memory of Hiroshima changed over the course of three decades, which is why we, the readers, should always challenge our own assumptions and closely examine why and how they came about.

As important as Hiroshima is for the Japanese collective memory (and also for world history) it was not the only city to experience the impact of an atomic bomb. Although Schäfer here and there draws some connections to the case of Nagasaki, comparing how differently both cities dealt with the catastrophe, the reader may have benefitted from more detailed information on the similarities and differences between the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum and the Nagasaki Atomic Bomb Museum. But given the extent of Schäfer’s analysis, this might be an idea for a future project.

Additional information

Notes on contributors

Sonja Hülsebus

Sonja Hülsebus is an affiliated research assistant with the Institute of East Asian Studies – Japanese Studies at the University of Cologne. Currently, she is a PhD candidate at the same institute working on her dissertation on the collective memory of the atomic bombs in Nagasaki. From April to September 2018, she was a dissertation fellowship holder at the DIJ Tokyo.

Notes

¹ The full introduction of Das Atombombenmuseum Hiroshima can be found online on the publisher’s website and downloaded as a free abstract.

² The introduction counts as chapter one, followed by the four main chapters (2. to 5.) and the conclusion (6.).