序文：
実際問題として「広島・長崎」さらに近年の「原発事故」もふくめ、よくたずねられるのはこの「はだしのゲン」と「原爆投下」についてである。これはよく引用した大学時代の「現代日本文化」の課目でも論じられたことである。
ー「日本」といえば、どのような人種だろうがだんだん個人的に親しく話が進んでいくと「寿司」「フジヤマ」「ゲイシャ」は相変わらずながらたどりつくのは「Hiroshima Nagasaki」となる傾向は強い。世界で唯一「爆弾」として原爆が投下されたのは日本が最初で最後なので（「ウラン弾」「原発事故」については異なるところ）世界中の人々特に「欧米人」たちの関心はたかい。
ーただ私は広島も長崎も行ったことはない。「広島県」は四国に行くときなつかしの「ブルートレイン・寝台車」で往年の「瀬戸内海」高松（香川県）に渡る連絡船の発着駅は岡山もしくは「宇野」であった。しかし当時いかなる状況においてすら「原爆」とむすびつけて当地を通過したのは記憶にない。
一つの参照・英国婦人と治療師女性（日本人）のこと：
ーもう１０年ほど前になる。現在はどこかから豪州で結婚し、子どもが生まれたという話が伝わってきた「タダ働き・サービス残業」専門の某診療所時代の同僚からきかれた逸話である。
ー私より１０歳以上も年下のその方に奇妙なことをたずねられたのを思い出す。治療を受けに来た英国出身の老婦人に「原爆投下」のことを話されおまけに「謝罪」されたというのだ。詳しい背景は忘れてしまった。しかし記憶をたどると「連合軍」としてアメリカといっしょに日本と戦争していたところから発した「ごめんなさい」だったらしい。
ー「どういうことでしょう？」と目をパチクリしながら聞かれたけどなんと答えてよいやらまったくわからずだったのが正直なところである。ただ「ゴメンナサイ」だの「あやまったり」するのは簡単にできることではないはず（「言葉」には「行動」が伴うのは必需＝とりわけ私は人生を通じて「加害者」であった方が圧倒的に多い人間）。それだけが自身の経験にちなんだところで今も変わらぬ本心である（「苦しむ」のは当然だと思う＝行ったことのつけは（十分であるとは到底いえないにせよ）払わなければいけない）。しかも「イギリス人」となれば、なんとも数奇なことでどう考えても単なる「井戸端会議」（「偽善」的行為）の延長程度から発したこと以外に考察は難しいのではないか？この辺も読者の方々それぞれ思いを独自にめぐらせていただければ幸いである。しかも「指圧治療」を受けながらの末といえば「善意」どうこうは別にしても例えばわたしが中国人に「侵略戦争、南京大虐殺はすまなかった」だの韓国、朝鮮系の方々に「植民地支配は申し訳なかった」などということと大差ない気がする（私は「関係」があるのは認める。けど、戦後世代であるので直接の「当事者」ではない）。
結論として軽々しく「あやまったり」どうこうで片づけられる問題ではないことに帰結する他術もなかろう。たとえば口では「すまなかった」「遺憾である」云々いいながら、同時に「軍備増強」してみたり（「三寸の舌」そのもの＝心がこもってるって次元じゃない）。「靖国」に「公式参拝」しながら歴史事実を「改竄・捏造」したりってのもある（まったく不誠実）。あと直接は関係しないながら（少なからずの「日本人」にみられる）「犠牲者」に対して自分もまた「被害者」などというほどおこがましい態度はない気がする（「殺した側」「殴った側」の屁理屈に過ぎない）。また後で再開します。サム　２０１６年８月
『はだしのゲン』は、中沢啓治による、自身の原爆の被爆体験を元にした自伝的漫画。同漫画を原作として実写映画やアニメ映画・テレビドラマも製作されている。戦中戦後の激動の時代を必死に生き抜こうとする主人公中岡ゲンの姿が描かれている。
《赤腳阿元》（日语：はだしのゲン Hadashi no Gen）是日本漫画家中泽启治而创作的漫画作品，基于其作为广岛原子弹幸存者的经历。漫画讲述了日本战中及战后那个激動的時代，主人公中冈的艰苦生活。
该漫画后改编成真人电影、动画电影、电视剧等作品。
一如前文所提，自1980年代開始，《赤腳阿元》成為一部會放在圖書館或國中小學圖書室的漫畫，受到孩子們廣泛地閱讀。有人認為這是一部可以學習到「原爆」真實情況、能當作參考的漫畫作品。此外，除了戰爭主題，本作對戰時、戰後的風土民情、社會情勢的捕捉和描寫，也非常質樸又細膩。漫畫評論加吳智英認為「這些應來自作者中澤啓治的親身經歷，相信是他在廣島的所見所聞」。此外，他對於作者的左翼觀點，認為「儘管本作使用的是這樣質樸的政治語言，但依然紀錄下了和命運抗衡的軌跡」。
概要：
自伝的な作品で、作中のエピソードの多くも中沢が実際に体験したことである。ただし、作中のエピソードの中には実際の体験と差異があるものもある。例えば原爆が投下されたときゲンは小学2年生だが、中沢自身は1年生の時である。他にも原爆投下直後の父や姉、弟の死を中沢自身は直接には見ていない（後に実際に立ち会った母から聞かされている）ことや、母の死に中沢は立ち会っていなかった（作中の戦後すぐの死去ではなく、終戦から20年後のことであり、中沢は当時東京にいた）ことなどが異なる。母親を火葬した際に骨が残らなかった、という作中にもあるエピソードが、中沢に広島原爆の被爆を題材とした漫画を描かせるきっかけとなった。発表分の末期は終戦から何年も過ぎた戦後の内容となっており、昭和天皇に対する批判やアメリカ軍およびアメリカ合衆国に対する批判、警察予備隊（後の陸上自衛隊）発足に対する批判する内容も含んでいる。ただし、その時期の話にも原爆の傷痕は根強く描かれている。時代考証の間違いや過度な左翼的な主張をはじめ、作品の内容、表現などについて様々な意見があるが、作者の中沢の実体験に基づく原爆の惨禍や当時の時代背景・世相風俗を表現していながら、エンターテインメントとしても読ませる作品として国内外での評価は高く、映画・ドラマ・アニメ・ミュージカル・絵本・講談化もされている。2010年6月調査のgooランキング「読んでおきたい日本史モノマンガランキング」の第1位に選ばれた[1]。単行本、文庫本などを含めた累計発行部数は650万部を超える[2]。2007年5月30日からウィーンで開催された核拡散防止条約（NPT）運用検討会議の第1回準備委員会で、日本政府代表団は、本作の英訳版を加盟国に配布することになった。外務省が英語版30冊を出版社から譲り受け、今後も「漫画外交」を活発に展開させる予定と報じられた。物語は、広島県広島市舟入本町（現在の広島市中区舟入本町）に住む国民学校2年生の主人公・中岡元（なかおか げん “以下、ゲン”）が、当時日本と交戦していたアメリカ軍により1945年8月6日に投下された原爆で、父・大吉（だいきち）、姉・英子（えいこ）、弟・進次（しんじ）の3人を亡くしながらも、たくましく生きる姿を描く。
原爆投下前後[編集]
舞台は1945年、終戦間近の広島市。ゲンの父で下駄の絵付け職人大吉は、反戦思想の持ち主。こうしたことから、中岡家の家族は町内会長の鮫島や近所から「非国民」扱いされ、様々な嫌がらせを受けた。ゲンの長兄の浩二（こうじ）が「非国民」の冷たい視線をはね返すために海軍の予科練に志願し、ゲンの次兄の昭（あきら）は、広島市郊外の山間部に疎開に行っていたため、浩二と昭は、原爆の難を逃れている。英子は昭より年上だったが、体が弱かったため疎開できなかった。原爆投下時、大吉・英子・進次（ゲンの弟）は家の下敷きになり、そのまま家に火がついて3人は生きたまま焼け死んだ。ゲンの母・君江（きみえ）はこの様子を見、ショックで女児を出産。名前は、友達がたくさんできることを願って「友子（ともこ）」と名づけられた。その後、ゲンは原爆症で毛髪が抜け落ち、自分も放射線障害で死ぬのではないかと恐怖する。髪の毛が全て抜け落ち坊主頭になったゲンは、その少し前に焼け野原になった広島市内の道端で拾った消防団の帽子で頭を隠し、友子のための米を調達すべく奔走した。ゲン達は江波（えば）在住で君江の友人のキヨの家に身を寄せ新たな生活を始める。しかしそこでは、キヨの姑や子供達からの迫害に甘んじる。江波で、ゲンは原爆で死んだ弟の進次に瓜二つの原爆孤児・近藤隆太（こんどう りゅうた）と出会う。隆太は原爆孤児の仲間と共に、農家から食糧を盗み飢えをしのいでいた。隆太と初めて会ったゲンは、進次が生きていたのではないかと錯覚する。2回目に会った時に、食糧を盗もうとしていた隆太が百姓に追い回されていたところをゲンが助け、ゲンと君江が隆太を弟代わりに育てることになった。それ以降隆太はゲンや君江を自分の兄や母のように慕い続ける。ゲンは江波で仕事を探していたところ、身なりのいい男に仕事をやるからついて来いと、連れて行かれた家で原爆の熱線で全身大やけどを負った画家志望生の吉田政二（よしだ せいじ）と出会う。身なりのいい男は政二の兄で、政二の両手は原爆による火傷で不自由になり、血を吐き血便を流し、大量のウジが全身を覆う惨状。仕事とは、政二の看病役だった。被爆する前は仲むつまじかった政二の兄家族は「ピカドンの毒がうつる」という噂を信じ隔離し、ろくに面倒も見ていなかったので、政二はやさぐれてしまっていたが、ゲンの叱咤に心を開き、口で筆をくわえて絵を描くようになる。ゲンは政二から絵画を教えてもらう約束をするが、ついに断末魔が訪れ間も無く政二は死に至る。すっかり死んだと思われていたが、通夜の後、蘇生し棺桶からはいずり出て「おかゆが食べたい」と兄家族に迫る。しかし、政二の兄家族は死人が甦ったと恐れおののき何も出来ず、箒で突き飛ばすなどし、逃げるばかりだった。夢で虫の知らせを察知したゲンは、政二の家に駆けつけたが、正にその時、政二は死んでいた。 被爆した政二を受け入れられず、都合良く世間体ばかり取り繕う家族にゲンの怒りは頂点に達する。火葬はゲンと隆太の二人で明るく行い、天国へ見送った。
[編集]
8月15日に終戦を迎えた後、昭と浩二が広島に戻ってきて、中岡家は隆太を含めて6人で暮らすようになった。しかし、キヨの姑に家を追い出され、ゲンと隆太は自分達が姑の子供（キヨの夫）が戦死した腹癒せに追い出されたこと（表面は、キヨの子供による暴力に対する仕返しをしたこと・家賃を高く払ってくれる人が出てきたことなどの難癖を付けられた）を知り、キヨの子供と姑を懲らしめる。一時防空壕跡の洞穴で生活し、その後は、家族で建てたバラックに移り住んだ。ゲンと隆太は食料調達の奔走中、謎の復員兵と出会い、進駐軍駐屯地から死ぬ覚悟でミルクを盗んでくるが、実は復員兵はヤクザで、ミルクは闇市で叩き売りされてしまう。騙されたことに気がつき怒ったゲンと隆太はヤクザの男2人に鉄パイプで食ってかかるも返り討ちにあってしまう。隆太は以前にゲンと共に入手した陸軍の武装解除により廃棄されていた拳銃を持ち出してきて2人を殺害。警察に捕まりそうになった隆太は別のヤクザに助けられ、自分が中岡家に戻れば、中岡家まで白い目で見られることを知らされ、ヤクザの道に入る決意をした隆太は、迷惑をかけないようゲンたちの前から姿を消し、ヤクザの子分（鉄砲玉）として仕立て上げられることになる。隆太との別れから数か月後、ゲンと昭は原爆投下後久しぶりに学校へ行くようになった。栄養失調に苦しんでいた友子は、ゲンの友人の雨森頑吉（あまもり がんきち、通称・クソ森）の住む集落で暮らす、原爆で孫を失った男性とその仲間達に連れ去られた。男性たちは友子を「お姫さま」と慕い、孤独な自分たちの心の支えとしていた。ゲンは友子を奪い返そうと男性たちと押し問答となる。その時、友子の原爆症が発症し、病院で診てもらうが、適切な治療を受けられなければ手遅れと宣告される。ゲンは治療費の10万円を稼ごうと、雨森と共に近所の原爆症で亡くなった人々の家を訪ねて、お経を唱えるアルバイトを始める。しかし目標の金額には達しなかった。そんな中、原爆投下前に中岡家の近所に住んでいた朝鮮人の朴（ぼく）と偶然に再会する。戦後、不法な闇市で財を成して資産家になっていた朴は、かつて中岡家から受けた恩義（大吉が朴を差別しなかった）から10万円と缶のミルクをゲンに気前よく渡した。大喜びで帰宅するゲンだったが時すでに遅く、ゲンは昭から友子の死を告げられる。ゲンは死を受け入れることができず、友子にミルクを飲ませようとする。しかしミルクは友子の口元からあふれ出し、友子の死を認めざるを得なくなる。友子の火葬は、ゲン、君江、浩二、昭と朴、雨森に友子を「お姫さま」と慕った男性たちが見守る中で営まれた。火葬の際、ゲンは死んだ友子のために、お経（白骨の御文章）を唱えて友子を天国へ送り出した。友子に生を与えた一人者は産婆ではなく、ゲンだった。そして、ゲンは三人兄弟の中で最も友子をかわいがっていた。それだけに友子の死は、母・君江とともにゲンにも大きな精神的ショックをもたらした。友子の死後、丸ハゲだったゲンの頭にも毛が生えはじめ（友子の看病に躍起で頭髪が生え始めていたことに気が付いていなかった）、家の焼け跡に植えた麦も芽を出しはじめ、改めて父の言葉を思い出し、妹の死という失望と絶望の淵から生きる希望へ繋がって行く。
市民以後掲載期（第二部）[編集]
その後、ゲンは別れた隆太と学校で再会する。ヤクザの岡内組の鉄砲玉として働いていた隆太には、かつての仲間だったムスビ、ドングリと、勝子（かつこ）が一緒にいた。ヤクザの幹部を夢見ていた隆太だったが、ドングリの死をきっかけにヤクザの世界から足抜けし、絶縁をした。その頃知り合った老人、平山松吉と共に新しい生活を始め、松吉は両親のいない隆太達の父親代わりになる。同年に昭和天皇が広島に訪問しており、それ以降ゲンは天皇の戦争責任を言及するようになる。そんな折、君江の体も原爆症に蝕まれた。浩二は君江を助けるため、福岡県の炭鉱に出稼ぎに行ったが、浩二は働いて得た金で酒びたりとなり、仕送りが全く出来ていなかった。入院させようにも金がなく、どこの病院も断られてしまう。状況打開のため隆太はヤクザの賭場荒らしをして大金を手に入れ、君江は入院することができた。しかし胴元である打山組の組長は激昴、隆太を殺すべく広島市内に包囲網を敷く。逃げ道がないと知ったゲンは病気の身体を圧して現れた君江と共に警察へ行くよう説得して隆太は自首した。1948年、原爆投下直後に米をもらいに行った際に出会った、英子そっくりの女性・大原夏江（おおはら なつえ）に再会する。夏江は何度も死を考えていたが、ゲンの発奮により、勝子と洋裁店を開くという夢を持つようになる。そんな折、松吉が原爆症で死の床に倒れる。隆太は共に脱獄したノロの自分を感化院に入れさせた叔父へ対する復讐に協力し、叔父に奪われた50万円相当の財産を取り返すことに成功する。ノロから分けてもらった財産の一部で朴に頼み（朴はお金は要らないと断った）、松吉の小説『夏のおわり』を自費出版するが、ゲンや隆太達に看取られながらこの世を去った。ゲン・隆太・ムスビの3人は、松吉の遺作『夏のおわり』を頒布している所をアメリカ軍の兵士に連行され、アメリカ軍基地で日系アメリカ人のマイク・ヒロタ少尉に取り調べられ、ここでゲンは初めてアメリカ人に原爆投下の怒りをぶつけたが、ヒロタ少尉は真珠湾攻撃のことを持ち出し正当化するだけだった（なお実際は、当時広島県を含めた中国及び四国地方を占領下に置いていたのはアメリカ軍ではなくイギリス軍であった）。ゲン達はアメリカ軍基地の牢屋に監禁されたが、3人が拷問を受けるダメージを少しでも少なくするための訓練をしている所を見たヒロタ少尉に、精神に異常を来たしていると勘違いしたために不必要と判断されたゲン達は、監禁されていた米軍基地から外に連れ出され、置き去りにされる。そのまま広島に戻った3人は、朴の協力で先ほどのアメリカ軍のやり方による反発と自分達の腹癒せにアメリカ軍のジープやトラックを片っ端から破壊する。アメリカ軍基地から連れ出され、アメリカ軍のジープやトラックを破壊して数日振りに家に帰ったゲンは、母・君江が退院したことに喜びを隠せなかった。しかし、胃癌で、家族には4か月の命と宣告されていた。ゲンは、生前最後の楽しい思い出を作ろうと母・君江の思い出の場所、京都へ旅行させるため、肥え汲みをして金を稼ぐ。京都旅行ができる金額に達した頃、浩二が九州から帰ってくるが、無為に日々を過ごしていた浩二は家に入りづらく、ゲンは自分が稼いだ金を浩二が稼いだものということにして、京都旅行に出発する。しかし旅行中に容態が急変し吐血。君江はゲンたちに看取られながら息を引き取った。火葬の際、君江の遺骨はほとんど残らなかった。君江の死に落ち込んでいたゲンだったが、大吉と君江の幻影に励まされ立ち直った。中学生になったゲンは、戦争を肯定する同級生・相原と最初は衝突するが、実は相原は自分が原爆症で自身の生命がそう長くないことを悟って生きること対する虚無感を抱いたためで、本心では戦争を憎んでいた。その後、ゲン達と共に戦争反対の行進の列に加わる。また洋裁店を開こうと話が順調に進む中、急に夏江が腹痛を訴える。夏江は盲腸で入院となったが、入院した後体調が芳しくなく、手術しても原爆症による白血球の減少で傷口が塞がらなかった。死期を悟った夏江は生きる希望を失っていくが、ゲン達に叱咤激励され、励まされる。ゲンの担任の教師・太田は、レッドパージで教師を辞めさせられ、覚醒剤に手を出すまでに絶望していたが、ゲンや隆太や雨森達クラスメート達のお陰で立ち直り、自分の学校を作ることを決意する。瓦礫の中から材料を集めて建てた家も、広島市の復興計画による道路拡張工事のために、ゲンと隆太の必死の抵抗も空しく取り壊されることになった。そのため、浩二は婚約者の広子と広島市内のアパートで暮らすことになり、昭は繊維問屋の商人になるために大阪へと旅立った。1950年12月31日、夏江は直腸癌と急性心臓麻痺が原因でこの世を去った。夏江の遺骨をゲンの家の墓に納める過程で、父・大吉の遺志を継ごうと絵付け職人になることを決意、夏江の遺骨の件で知り合った画家の天野の教えを受ける。しばらくしてゲンは納品間近の看板を壊してしまい、それがきっかけで職人の大月や部下の黒崎と乱闘騒ぎを起こしてしまう。弁償をするため看板屋で働くことになったが、外で仕事をしている姿を天野が見つけ、天野は代わりにゲンが壊してしまった看板へ絵を描く作業をやったのである。看板屋の仕事を手伝うようになった天野は、看板屋の社長に絵の腕を認められ、ゲンが負傷を負わせた社員・大月の代理として雇われる[15]。しかしそれを面白く思わない黒崎が雇ったチンピラの二人組に襲撃されるが、返り討ちにして卑劣な振る舞いをした黒崎を叱りつける。黒崎には原爆孤児になって僧侶に拾われるも奴隷同然にこき使われ、理不尽な暴力を受け続けた過去があり性格がいつの間にか歪んでしまったとゲンに語る。一方、隆太は設立されたばかりの広島カープの応援に熱中する。1953年、ゲンは中学を卒業。ゲンはこの頃から髪を長く伸ばし、勝子が仕立てたジャンパーを身に着けたスタイルに一変する。波川中学校の卒業式に出席したゲンは、「君が代」の斉唱が始まる際にと「君が代」を歌うのを止めようとする。ゲンが「君が代」を歌わない理由は、「君が代の『君』は（昭和）天皇のことで、天皇を褒め称える歌であると』指摘し、昭和天皇が戦争犯罪者であることを恐れていた為であった。卒業式では「君が代」に代わる形でゲンの指揮により「青い山脈」を波川中の卒業生全員で合唱した。式が終わり横道を筆頭とした不良グループからリンチされる教師達をゲンは雨森と救出し、教師達の横暴を叱責する。そして、ゲンは女学生（中学生）の中尾光子（なかお みつこ）に一目惚れをする。しかし、光子は弁償のために働いた看板屋の社長、中尾重蔵の娘だった。ゲンは重蔵と犬猿の仲であり、光子も当初は父親に叱られるのを恐れてゲンと交際するのをためらっていたが、隆太の一喝とゲンの想いを受けて交際を承諾、ゲンは光子との交際を始めた。だが、まもなく光子は原爆による急性白血病で死亡した。これにより軍国主義者の重蔵は自分の愚かさを知り、平和主義者へと転向、漸くゲンと和解する。ゲンの仲間の1人、ムスビは洋裁店を開くために働いていたが、ふとした夜遊びがきっかけで麻薬中毒となってしまう[16]。麻薬中毒となったムスビは麻薬を買うために、申し訳ないと思いつつも皆で貯めたお金に手を出し、挙げ句使い果たしてしまう。お金が無くなっても麻薬を欲しがるムスビは、麻薬の売人であるバー「マドンナ」のマスターの自宅に侵入して麻薬を探しているところを見つかり、リンチに遭い死亡する。原爆で孤児となり苦難を共にしてきた大切な親友であるムスビが麻薬中毒にされて殺されたことに隆太は怒り心頭となる。隆太は、バー「マドンナ」に乗り込み、首謀者であるマスターを射殺し、愛人である女給に重傷を負わせ、さらに麻薬売買の胴元であるヤクザを2人射殺した。そして、敵討ちを終えた隆太は自首することを決意するが、刑務所に入るのは間違いで戦争を起こした者たちこそ裁かれるべきだと叫んだゲンと勝子により反対され、東京へと向かう貨物トラックで勝子と共に逃亡する。ムスビの遺骨を自分の家の墓に納めたゲンは、その後、社長や天野と天野の孫の達郎に見送られ、未来に挑戦するために東京へ旅立った。
Barefoot Gen, The Atomic Bomb and I: The Hiroshima Legacy
http://apjjf.org/-Nakazawa-Keiji/2638/article.html
Nakazawa Keiji January 1, 2008
Barefoot Gen, the Atomic Bomb and I: The Hiroshima Legacy
Nakazawa Keiji interviewed by Asai Motofumi, Translated by Richard H. Minear
In August 2007 I asked Nakazawa Keiji, manga artist and author of Barefoot Gen, for an interview. Nakazawa was a first grader when on August 6, 1945 he experienced the atomic bombing. In 1968 he published his first work on the atomic bombing—Struck by Black Rain [Kuroi ame ni utarete]—and since then, he has appealed to the public with many works on the atomic bombing. His masterpiece is Barefoot Gen, in which Gen is a stand-in for Nakazawa himself. His works from Barefoot Gen on convey much bitter anger and sharp criticism toward a postwar Japanese politics that has never sought to affix responsibility on those who carried out the dropping of the atomic bomb and the aggressive war (the U.S. that dropped the atomic bomb, and the emperor and Japan’s wartime leaders who prosecuted the reckless war that incurred the dropping of the atomic bomb).
A Father’s Influence
Asai: Would you speak about your father’s strong influence on the formation of your own thinking?　
Nakazawa: Dad’s influence on the formation of my thinking was strong. Time and again he’d grab me —I was still in first grade—and say, “This war is wrong” or “Japan’s absolutely going to lose; what condition will Japan be in when you’re older? The time will surely come when you’ll be able to eat your fill of white rice and soba.” At a time when we had only locusts and sweet potato vines to eat, we couldn’t imagine that we’d ever see such a wonderful time. But Dad said, “Japan will surely lose. And after the defeat, there’ll come a wonderful time.” At mealtimes he’d make all of us children sit up straight and listen to him—so much so that we grew sick of his voice. But we couldn’t believe that the time would ever come when we’d “be able to eat our fill of white rice.” Still, I think Dad really did see that far ahead. In fact, Japan did lose, and today’s an age of gluttony.　During Dad’s visits to Kyoto, he talked, I think, with a leftwing theater group. In his youth he had gone to Kyoto and studied Japanese-style painting of the Maruyama Okyo school and lacquerwork. He was always going to Kyoto, he belonged to Takizawa Osamu’s new theater, and he appeared on stage. He performed at Doctors’ Hall in Hiroshima’s Shintenchi, and he appeared in such things as Shimazaki Toson’s Before the Dawn [Yoakemae, 1929-1935] and Gorki’s The Lower Depths. The new theater was leftwing, so it was of course under surveillance by the authorities, and from what I hear, right across from the theater office the Thought Police kept an eye on everything—“Who went in?” One day they rounded everyone up.That day I was really frightened. It was the most frightening thing my child’s mind ever encountered. I was about five. Her hair in disarray, Mom trembled, and seeing her, I thought something terrible had happened to our family. Dad had been taken away. I still can’t forget the fear I felt at that moment. The year was 1944. Dad was taken away and didn’t come back. I asked Mom, “Why hasn’t Dad come home?” She lied to us. Told us he’d gone for his military physical. But it lasted too long. It was nearly a year before he returned. Later, when I asked members of the troupe, he was shoved into a detention center and hazed a good bit. He came back with teeth loose and broken. When they’re given food with salt, people can function; but given food without salt, they lose heart. I asked the members of the troupe and learned that that’s the food he was given, and he was tortured, too; he came home despondent. Even after he came home, he still told us what he had before: “This war is wrong.” Dad was a stubborn and headstrong man. Even under torture he never recanted. Dad’s younger brother stood surety for him, and he could come home. It was the end of 1944.With Mom he built a new home in Funairi Honcho, and that’s where we lived.
Thumbnail sketch of his mother:
Mom was a dandy. One of her classmates was named Eda, and according to
 Auntie, Mom wore pleated skirts, rode in cars, went to the movies, went to cafes—“Your mother lived a comfortable life in her youth.” But after coming as a bride to the house of an artist and having many children, she got angry when I drew pictures. Must have thought, I’ll never let him be an artist. She may have been fed up with Dad, who was an artist. Her family name was Miyake, and the Miyakes manufactured children’s bicycles. That such an affluent woman and my artist father married—there must have been some karma linking them. Perhaps their temperaments matched.
The Nakazawa family:
I was the third son, after two brothers and one sister. After me came a brother and an infant sister born on the day of the atomic bomb. On the day the atomic bomb was dropped, Mom was in her ninth month, her tummy large. Dad’s attitude toward the children was consistent throughout. My oldest brother did extremely well in school, and his teacher said, “Please let him continue his education.” Dad apparently got angry and was caustic: “A tradesman doesn’t need education.” Mom intervened, and Dad said, “Since you speak so highly of him, we’ll let him go,” and he entered Fourth Higher School. Mobilized out of school, he went to the naval armory at Kure and did welding. Worked on a section of Battleship Yamato. He prided himself on actually having inserted his entire body into the Yamato’s artillery turret. He’s still in good health, lives in Kichijima.My second oldest brother was then a third-grader. Back then, school evacuations began with third grade. I envied him, thinking that if you went to the countryside, you’d probably be able to eat your fill. But a letter came, and in it he moaned that he was getting thinner and thinner and please send soybeans. So I heard Dad say more than once, “I wonder if we should bring him back.” It was just before the atomic bomb. Had Dad brought him back, they’d have died together in the atomic bombing. Even if you went to the countryside, you couldn’t eat your fill: I realized that keenly.
The atomic bomb explodes
The death of his father and the others:
What differs about the death of my father from Barefoot Gen is that I myself wasn’t at the scene. Mom told me about it, in gruesome detail. It was in my head, so in the manga I decided to have Gen be there and try to save his father.
Gen’s father’s death
Mom always had nightmares about it. She said it was unbearable—she could still hear my brother’s cries. Saying “I’ll die with you,” she locked my brother in her arms, but no matter how she pulled, she couldn’t free him. Meanwhile, my brother said, “It’s hot!” and Dad too said, “Do something!” My older sister Eiko, perhaps because she was pinned between beams, said not a thing. At the time, Mom said, she herself was already crazed. She was crying, “I’ll die with you.” Fortunately, a neighbor passing by said to her, “Please stop; it’s no use. No need for you to die with them.” And, taking her by the hand, he got her to flee the spot. When she turned back, the flames were fierce, and she could hear clearly my brother’s cries, “Mother, it’s hot!” It was unbearable. Mom told me this scene, bitterest of the bitter. A cruel way to kill.Later Mom instructed me to go back and retrieve their bones, and with my oldest brother, I went back, taking bucket and shovel, and dug in the place Mom specified. My younger brother’s skull was where Mom said it would be. A child’s skull is truly a thing of beauty. But when under a hot sun I held that skull, I felt the cold and truly shuddered. My hair stood on end when I realized his head had sizzled and burned with him not moving at all. Then, in the 4½-mat room we found Dad’s bones, and in the 6-mat room in back, my oldest sister’s bones. A girl’s skull has an expression. Hers was truly gentle: “Ah, even bones have expressions.” Mom said, “Eiko was lucky. She died instantly; hers was a good way to die.”When we went to retrieve their bones, the stench of death filled the air thereabouts. Because they hadn’t all burned up. There were still bodies lying about. In every tank of fire-fighting water people had jumped in and were dead. What surprised me the most was that right to the end they’d exhibited human emotions: out of love, a mother held her child tight. Her corpse was bloated, swollen from being in the water, and the child’s face was sunk into the mother’s flesh. When I approached Dobashi’s busy streets, corpses filled every water tank. That’s where the pleasure quarter was—they’d all probably still been asleep when the bomb hit. So engulfed in flames, many of them must have jumped into the water tanks. My oldest brother and I decided to return through the city, and Hiroshima’s seven rivers were all full of bodies. As I depicted it in the manga, the bellies were all swollen. Gas developed, and the bellies broke open because of the gas. Water poured into those holes, and the corpses sank.The thing that horrified me most was that maggots bred and turned into flies. There were so many flies! It became so black you almost couldn’t open your eyes. And they attacked you! Despite the atomic bomb, flies bred. It’s strange, but maggots are really quick. In no time at all they were everywhere. Horrible, really. And that maggots should breed like that in human bodies! If you wondered what that was moving in the sky, it was a swarm of flies. The only things moving in Hiroshima were flames as corpses burned, and flies as they swarmed.
Growing up in postwar Hiroshima
I switched to Honkawa Primary School, and in summers we dove off Aioi Bridge. In the band of urchins, it was bad form not to dive headfirst. If you jumped feet first, they said, “He’s no good.” So even though it was crazy, we dove headfirst. Dive off the railing, and you glided along the bottom. Where there was a river of white bones. Even now if you dig there, you’ll turn up a ton of bones. Those areas have never been swept, and even now there must be lots of bones buried in the sand.The atomic bombing was terrible, of course, but we also suffered afterward from hunger. For a while we stayed in Eba. After the war the food shortage was really severe. At the river’s mouth in Eba, when the tide went out, there stretched an array of rib bones. If you dug under the rib bones, there were lots of short-necked crabs. They fed on the bodies. Lived off of human beings. We gathered the crabs for all we were worth and with them appeased our hunger. Would you say we were blessed by the sea?—there were the seven rivers, and it really helped us appease our hunger.I was bullied a lot because I wasn’t from Eba. Surrounded by local urchins and called, “Outsider! Outsider!” I had burns, and when I was struck there, bloody pus came spurting out. The brats just laughed. Had it been one on one, I’m confident I’d never have lost, but since they bullied in a group, I had to put up with it. I feel I saw real human nature—rejecting the outsider. Helping each other—that’s an illusion. Because they bullied in a bunch. So I feel I saw the real nature of the Japanese.Mom was hauled off to the police box for stealing an umbrella she didn’t steal and forced to write an apology. She said, “We’ve got the one room—six mats, so go ahead, search all you want,” but the guy who reported her said, “She’s a sly cat from the city, so I’m reporting her!” I can never forget how Mom was made to write an apology. Had I been an adult, I would have jumped on him and given him a beating, but watching how things went, I felt sorry in my child’s mind for Mom, who was in tears as she wrote, “I’ll never take anything again!” and then signed her name. That guy did it to harass her. I would have been killed had we stayed in Eba, and we had to flee; so scavenging lumber from the military barracks, we built a hut in today’s Honkawa—then it was called Takajo—and set out on our postwar life.Hiroshima was famous for needles: sewing machine needles, dressmakers’ pins, and the like. Seems there’s an art to sorting these needles. Mom had done it as a child and got work in a reopened needle factory, and that was the source of our postwar income. My oldest brother knew welding from his time as a mobilized student and earned some money working in a local plant. He said, “I wanted to go to the university,” and complained, “Dad died, so I couldn’t.” I found it truly unbearable. But Mom got angry: “There was no alternative!”In the last analysis I was raised by Mom and my brother. From first grade on I cooked. It was a duty; I had to. It wasn’t like today’s cooking with gas. I worked the bellows to get the firewood burning, then cooked. Sliced sweet potatoes into a bit of rice—that’s what I had to do, my duty. Mom worked. So my next older brother and I took turns cooking.
I entered kokumin gakko [grade school, 1941-1946] in 1945. I was the last to enter kokumin gakko. All my primary school years we lived in Takajo. I graduated from Honkawa Primary School. Since it was the only school that didn’t go up in flames in the atomic bombing, pupils came from all over the city. The ABCC [Atomic Bomb Casualty Commission] came for those pupils. Took the kids off—good research subjects. Picked them up at school by car, then collected the children’s stools for examination. Without parental permission—very high-handed. It began right after the ABCC was established in 1948. Honkawa Primary School students came from all over the city, so they were ideal material for the ABCC. They compared kids who had been evacuated to the country and were healthy with hibakusha, took them both off. In my child’s mind I knew the ABCC was suspect. I thought that if you went there, you’d be given something delicious to eat, but I asked kids who had gone and found they got nothing. My baby sister was named Yuko. For seven years the ABCC team searched the city for her. In the seventh year they found us. “She died at four months,” we told the guy, and he was disappointed. He said, “For seven years we searched for that child.” The ABCC probably needed her because she was born on August 6. The ABCC—it was all about experimenting. They say the dropping of the atomic bomb saved millions of lives, but it was an atomic experiment with the war as pretext. They made atomic bombs of two types and experimented, using the war as pretext. That’s U.S. sophistry. The ABCC didn’t do anything for us.
The Emperor’s Visit to Hiroshima
In my writings there’s a fearsome anger toward power, toward rulers, and I don’t trust people who say nothing about the emperor system. The emperor system--that’s really what it’s about. That emperor system, the horror of the emperor system, still exists today: Japanese simply have to recognize that! And I’m horrified that once again they’re fanning it, pulling it out. I remember well when the emperor came to Hiroshima in 1947. I wrote about it in my autobiography. The school gave the pupils one sheet of paper each. To do what? Take a six-inch compass and inscribe a circle, then color it in with red crayon. Find a piece of bamboo and make a hinomaru flag. I asked, “What are we doing?” They said, “Tomorrow his majesty the emperor is coming; line up on Aioi Bridge.” Dad had told me all about the emperor system, so I thought, “This is the guy who destroyed Dad and the whole family.” I lined up in the front row. A black Ford drove up, and the emperor came wearing a white scarf in the cold wind. In that cold, I was hot as fire inside. “That guy caused us all this, killed Dad,” and I wanted to fly at him. I still can’t forget that impulse. The teacher said, “Say banzai! Say banzai!” “Are you kidding?” With my geta I kicked a fragment of roof tile. It hit the tire and bounced off. I was angry. I’ve never burned so in my whole life. So I remember it well. It was cold, see. In the cold the emperor comes all comfortable. I really wanted to strangle the guy.
Asai: In Hiroshima greeting the emperor, there was virtually no anger or hatred toward the emperor. Why not?
Nakazawa: Because of the prewar education. The prewar education changed the Japanese people completely. I feel acutely how horrible that education was. I’m angry: “If that guy had only swallowed the Potsdam Proclamation, there would have been no atomic bombing.” He survived in comfort, that impudent, shameless guy. Some people did feel the anger I felt toward the emperor, but all of them probably died in prison. I learned from Dad: the emperor system is horrible. When I asked why should Japanese have to bow and scrape so to the emperor, Dad replied, to unify Japan. Turn him into a living god and make people worship him. That system. Since I heard things like that from early on, when I was lined up and made to shout Banzai!, I got really angry. The rage welled up. That feelings like mine didn’t surface in Hiroshima was probably because Hiroshima was conservative. In Hiroshima Prefecture, there really is a prefectural trait—conservatism. Impossible. It’ll be very difficult to change.
Marginalizing the Hibakusha
Asai: Looking at the process in which Hiroshima mayor Hamai Shinzo drew up the Peace City Construction Law and set about rebuilding Hiroshima, I get the sense that it was not a reconstruction that took the hibakusha into careful consideration, that reconstruction took priority.
Nakazawa: It really left the hibakusha out. And in the Mayor Hamai era, virtually everyone was hibakusha, so maybe they couldn’t think about compensation. 
Asai: When you consider that the population of Hiroshima, which the atomic bombing had reduced radically, rebounded rapidly after the war, and that the 70,000-80,000 hibakusha didn’t increase, it was the increase of non-hibakusha—repatriates and people coming here from other prefectures—that made it possible for the population to rebound rapidly. In the “empty decade” right after the war it was the non-hibakusha who benefited from the recovery; it was a recovery in which hibakusha were chased to the fringes. That’s my feeling, at least, What do you think?
Nakazawa: You’re not mistaken. And in the process discrimination arose. With the discrimination, it came to be the case that you couldn’t talk about having been exposed to the atomic bombing. You simply couldn’t say publicly that you were a hibakusha. The discrimination was fierce. You couldn’t speak out against it. I was living in Takajo, and I often heard stories, such as the neighbor’s daughter who hanged herself. Discrimination. Dreadful. There were lots of incidents like that, in which people had lost hope.
The Lucky Dragon Incident and the World Anti-Nuclear Movement
Asai: Ota Yoko’s City of Twilight, People of Twilight [Yunagi no machi to hito to, 1955] depicts a group of hibakusha living in one household in Motomachi in 1953. It was reconstruction Hiroshima, with the hibakusha relegated to the edges. And the August 6 commemoration, too: I get the sense that from the very first it was carried out without the hibakusha as main actors. How did you, someone who was there on August 6, feel?
Nakazawa: There was discrimination, and if you emphasized the atomic bombing openly, they’d gang up on you and say, “Don’t put on your hibakusha face!”—a strange way to organize a movement. When there were hibakusha on the Fukuryu-maru #5 [Japanese fishing ship, the Lucky Dragon #5, that received fallout from a U.S. nuclear test at Bikini in 1954] and it became a big issue, Ota said, “Serves you right!” Meaning, now do you get it? That’s how badly hibakusha were alienated.Even if you wanted to speak, you couldn’t, and if you spoke, the result was discrimination. Discrimination meant they wouldn’t let you complain. An acquaintance of mine proposed to a Tokyo woman, and they celebrated the wedding in Tokyo. And no one came. There was that sense: it’s risky to say you’re a hibakusha. That was what the powerful wanted. Because there was discrimination, you couldn’t say anything: that suited their convenience. Hibakusha were pressured not to assert themselves. Hibakusha first came to the fore at the 1955 World Convention to Outlaw Nuclear Weapons. After all, atomic tests were being carried out one after the other, and death ash was falling; maybe it was the sense of danger that did it. The World Convention to Outlaw Nuclear Weapons broke up in 1963, and that, too, is a strange story. There were some who made the ridiculous assertion that Soviet nukes were beautiful and all other nukes bad. I couldn’t buy that argument. How can it be a matter of left or right? Doesn’t the goal the abolition of nuclear weapons apply to all?
Asai: At first hibakusha had great hopes of the movement to abolish nuclear weapons, and in 1956 Hidankyo [confederation of hibakusha organizations] also came into existence. But they felt great disappointment and disillusionment at the breakup of the movement to abolish nuclear weapons, were critical of it, and ended up turning their backs on the movement itself. Isn’t that the case?
Nakazawa: Yes, it was. They couldn’t go along with it. People like me felt, “What are these people doing?” If we joined forces for the abolition of nuclear weapons, we’d be twice as strong.In 1961 I moved to Tokyo and, until Mom died in 1966, thought I’d never return to Hiroshima. Return to Hiroshima, and you experience only gruesome things. So I thought I’d die and be buried in Tokyo. Had Mom not existed, I might have become an ordinary yakuza or fallen by the wayside in Hiroshima; when she died, I’d accomplished something because of her. She played a major role in my life. Her death was a great shock, and I came back to Hiroshima. Thankful for Mom, I sent her body to the crematorium; I thought I knew what a human body that’s been burned looks like. I’d retrieved Dad’s bones and my brother’s bones. I thought I’d get Mom’s skull or breastbone in similar shape, too. But when her ashes came from the crematory and were laid out on the table, I found not a bone. I couldn’t find even her skull. Thinking this couldn’t be so, I rummaged for all I was worth. There were only occasional white fragments. And I got very, very angry: does radioactivity plunder even bone marrow? It made off with the bones of my dear, dear Mom.
Discrimination against hibakusha
I shut my eyes entirely to the atomic bombing, but Tokyoites’ discrimination against hibakusha was awful. If you said that you were a hibakusha matter-of-factly, among friends, they made weird faces. I’d never seen such cold eyes. I thought that was strange, but when I mentioned it to the Hidankyo people, they said that if someone says, “I’m a hibakusha,” Tokyo people won’t touch the tea bowl from which he’s been drinking, because they’ll catch radioactivity. They’ll no longer get close to you. There are many ignorant people. When they told me this, for the first time it clicked: “Yes, that’s how it is.” And I thought, never speak of the atomic bomb again! So for six years in Tokyo I kept silent, and when Mom died and none of her bones were left, I got really angry: both she and I had been bathed in radioactivity, so it made off with even the marrow of our bones. The anger welled up all of a sudden: give me back my dear Mom’s bones! I thought, manga’s all I know how to do, so I’ll give it a try. And it was Struck by Black Rain that I wrote in that anger. I wrote it to fling my grudge at the U.S. Its contents were horrific, but that’s how I truly felt. I wrote it in hot anger and just couldn’t get it published. I hoped to have high schoolers read it. If they read it, they’d understand. So I took it around to the major magazines that aimed at the high school student audience. I was told the content was good but it was too radical, and for a year I took it around. I was about to give up, but I thought again: even if it wasn’t one of the major magazines, wouldn’t it do if it got read? And I took it to the publisher of Manga Punch, the porno magazine. The editor in chief there was a very understanding person, “It moved me greatly.” But, “If I publish this, both Nakazawa and I will be picked up by the CIA.” It was a magazine for young people; “the guys”—truck drivers, taxi drivers—read it.Within the press, the reaction came back that it was “new.” So it came about that I should write a “black rain” series.
Asai: Did you get reactions from readers focusing on the hibakusha aspect?
Nakazawa: “Did such things really happen?”—people expressed doubts like that. Which means they know absolutely nothing about the atomic bombing. Since I write only about what I had seen; it’s not fiction. But although lots of people say Japan’s “the only country to suffer atomic bombing,” it’s not understood in the least. On the contrary, I was the one who was shocked. I received letters, and they brought me up short. It was virtually the same as when I published Hadashi no Gen: “Is that true?” “Tell us more!”—the vast majority of messages was like that. “I never dreamed that war and atomic bombing were so brutal.”
Asai: Hadashi no Gen is in the libraries of primary and middle schools, and if they take courage and read it, I think they’ll be able to understand Hiroshima better. How do you as author feel about that?Nakazawa: After all, the overwhelming majority became aware of war and atomic bombing via Hadashi no Gen. In that sense—I don’t pride myself on it—but I’m a pioneer. Even though Hiroshima figures in children’s literature, there’s nothing that takes it that far. I think manga offers the best access. That people are being made aware of war and atomic bombing via Hadashi no Gen: that’s the height of luck for an author.
Asai: Why on earth does the Ministry of Education allow the libraries of primary and middle schools to keep work that’s so anti-war and anti-emperor system?
Nakazawa: I too find it strange. As for manga in school libraries, Hadashi no Gen was the very first. It paved the way. Thanks to Gen, it’s permeated by now to the average person. For me, it’s a delight to think that something I wrote has permeated that far.
Asai: It was dramatized recently for TV. I felt then the limits of TV dramatization…
Nakazawa: There certainly are limits. They removed a core issue—the emperor system. Nothing to be done about that. I think the emperor system is absolutely intolerable. Japanese still haven’t passed their own judgment on the emperor system. I get angry. Even now it’s not too late. Unless we pass judgment on such issues….
The Responsibility of the emperor
Asai: Pass judgment—how?
Nakazawa: By a people’s court, actually. The Japanese people must ask many more questions: how much, beginning with the great Tokyo air raid, the Japanese archipelago suffered because of the emperor, how the emperor system is at the very source. To speak of constitutional revision, my position is that it’s okay to change the clauses about the emperor—but only those clauses. The rest can’t be changed. Article 9? Preposterous! Absolutely can’t be changed.
Asai: In your ‘Hadashi no Gen’ Autobiography [1994], you say that as you keep writing about the atomic bombing, you sometimes need to write light stuff.
Nakazawa: When I write scenes of the atomic bombing, the stench of the corpses comes wafting. The stench gets into my nose, and appalling corpses come after me, eyeballs gouged out, bloated; it’s really unbearable. Because I’m drawn back into the reality of that time. My mood darkens. I don’t want to write about it again. At such times, I write light stuff. For a shift in mood.
Radiation Effects
Asai: In Suddenly One Day [Aru hi totsuzen ni] and Something Happens [Nanika ga okoru], the protagonists—second-generation hibakusha—get leukemia. Did such things actually happen?
Nakazawa: It’s possible.
Asai: I’ve heard that as of now the Radiation Effects Research Foundation doesn’t recognize effects on the next generation.
Nakazawa: I think such effects exist. I worry. I worried when my own children were born because I was a hibakusha. I was uneasy—what would I do if the radiation caused my child to be born malformed?—but fortunately he was born whole. I try to have him get the second-generation hibakusha check-up. There’s a medical exam system for second-generation hibakusha; the exam itself is free of charge. But we were uneasy at the time my wife conceived him. We were also uneasy when we got married. Fortunately, there were hibakusha in her family, too, so she was understanding. I worried at the time we got married that there would be opposition. Luckily, people were understanding, and the marriage went off without a hitch. When the children married, I worried secretly. Now we have two grandchildren.
Asai: You met Kurihara Sadako [noted Hiroshima poet/activist, 1912-2005].
Nakazawa: She and I appeared once together on NHK TV. Eight years or so ago. On an NHK Special. A dialog. The location was Honkawa Elementary School. We discussed the experience of the atomic bomb. In broad Hiroshima dialect, Kurihara said to me, “Nakazawa-san, good that you came back to Hiroshima”—that’s how we began.
Asai: I thought Kurihara was a very honest Hiroshima thinker.
Nakazawa: I too liked her. She wrote bitterly critical things. Like me, I thought. She wrote sharply against the emperor system, too. After all, our dispositions matched. But in Hiroshima she became isolated. If you say bitter things, organizations divide into left and right. Even though you’re stronger, if everyone gets together…. Say something sharp, and people disagree, and label you. That no good. The peace movement has to be united. That’s why I never join political parties. It’s something I hate—that Japanese are so quick to apply labels. Immediately apply a label and they say, “he’s that faction or that one,” and dismiss him. No broadmindedness. If a job comes, I respond with an “Okay.” But I never concern myself with political parties.
Asai: How did you come to want to return to Hiroshima?
Nakazawa: Up until ten years ago I stayed absolutely away from Hiroshima. Merely seeing the city of Hiroshima brings back memories. The past. Seeing the rivers, I see in my mind’s eye rivers of white bones. Or the good spots for catching the crabs that grew fat on human flesh. Such memories come back, and when I walk about, I remember, “This happened,” “That happened.” I can’t bear to remember the smell of the corpses. I wanted to stay away from Hiroshima. I can’t express that stench in words. It brings back things I don’t want to remember. This frame of mind of mine is likely the same as for other hibakusha. My former teacher is here, and classmates gather for his birthdays. So I think, “Yes, Hiroshima’s okay.” I have friends here. Time has swept them away, those vivid memories. So I’ve come to want to be buried in Hiroshima. I like the Inland Sea, so I’ll have them scatter my ashes. I don’t need a tombstone.
Hiroshima, Auschwitz and Article 9
Asai: Why can’t Hiroshima become like Auschwitz?
Nakazawa: Japanese aren’t persistent about remembering the war: isn’t that the case? When at Auschwitz I see mounds of eyeglasses or mounds of human hair, I think, “What persistence!” There’s no such persistence among Japanese, not only about Hiroshima. I wish Japanese had what it takes to pass the story on. To erase history is to forget. I’d like there to be at least enough persistence to pass it on. I’d like to expect that of the Japanese. I do expect it of the next generation. I’ve given up on the older generation. I have hopes of the next generation: reading Hadashi no Gen, they’re good enough to say, “What was that?” On that point I’m optimistic. I want them to put their imaginations to work; I absolutely want them to inherit it. I want to pass the baton to them. On this point, the trend in Japanese education today is terrifying. I’m afraid the LDP and the opposition parties will never abandon the idea of educational reform.But defend Article 9 of the Constitution absolutely. Because it came to us bought with blood and tears. People say it was imposed on Japan by the U.S., but back then the people accepted it, and there’s nothing more splendid. To forget that and think it’s okay to change it because it was imposed—that’s a huge mistake. What the peace constitution cost in the pain of blood and tears! We simply must not get rid of it. That’s been my thinking about Article 9, from middle school on. Precisely because of it, Japan lives in peace. At the time of the promulgation of the constitution, I was in primary school, and when I was told that it transformed Japan into a country that no longer bears arms, will not have a military, will live in peace, I thought, what a splendid constitution! And I remembered Dad. Indeed, what you learn from your parents is huge. Parents have to teach. Not rely on schoolteachers. Teachers ask me how they should teach. What are they talking about? I say they should at least say, “On August 6 an atom bomb was dropped on Hiroshima.” How to convey that to students in more expanded form: I say that’s the teachers’ function. There are all sorts of teaching materials, so if they don’t do it, it’s negligence on their part.
Asai: That’s hope for Japan; how about Hiroshima?
Nakazawa: The conservative aspects of Hiroshima have to be changed. I think Hiroshima people are really conservative. The numbers of reformists must increase. In order to effect change, each person has to work away at it. I’m a cartoonist, so cartoons are my only weapon. I think everyone has to appeal in whatever position they’re in. Wouldn’t it be nice if we gradually enlarged our imaginations! We have to believe in that possibility. Doubt is extremely strong, but we have to feel that change is possible. Inspire ourselves. And like Auschwitz, Hiroshima too must sing out more and more about human dignity.
Posted on Japan Focus, January 20, 2008.