Nagasaki survivors urge world to abolish nuclear weapons
On August 9, 1945, a plutonium bomb dropped by the United States exploded over Nagasaki at 11:02 a.m., killing roughly 70,000 people. The attack came just three days after Hiroshima was leveled by another atomic bomb that killed 140,000. Less than a week later, on August 15, Japan surrendered, bringing World War II to an end and closing the country's nearly half-century of military aggression across Asia.
This year's memorial drew about 2,600 attendees, including representatives from more than 90 nations, to Nagasaki Peace Park. At the exact moment of the blast eight decades ago, the crowd observed a solemn minute of silence as a bell tolled. Doves — long a symbol of peace — were released into the gray, rain-soaked sky after a speech by Nagasaki Mayor Shiro Suzuki, whose parents survived the bombing.
"The memories of the atomic bombing are a shared human heritage and must be passed on across generations and borders," Suzuki declared. Warning that humanity's "existential crisis" is becoming immediate and personal for everyone, he vowed to work with people around the world to abolish nuclear weapons and secure lasting peace.
Earlier in the day, survivors and their families gathered quietly at Peace Park and Hypocenter Park, the exact location beneath the bomb's detonation. Others attended services in Nagasaki's churches, part of the city's deep-rooted Catholic heritage, shaped by centuries of persecution during Japan's feudal era. At Urakami Cathedral — destroyed in the bombing — its twin bells rang together for the first time since one, lost in the blast, was recently recovered and restored.
For survivors, the day was both a commemoration and a reminder of an unfinished mission. Despite enduring lifelong wounds, radiation-linked illnesses, and discrimination, they have devoted themselves to nuclear disarmament. Yet, they now worry the world is moving in the opposite direction, with atomic threats mounting and some governments expanding arsenals.
The number of officially recognized survivors has dwindled to 99,130, with an average age of over 86. Many fear their memories will fade before younger generations grasp the urgency of their cause. "We must keep records of survivors' stories and the damage they endured," said 83-year-old Teruko Yokoyama, who lost two sisters to radiation-related illnesses. Her group is digitizing testimonies for YouTube and social media, hoping technology will keep the history alive. "There are younger people starting to take action," she said. "We don't have to lose hope yet."
On August 8, a "peace forum" brought together more than 300 young people from across Japan to hear first-hand accounts. Ninety-year-old survivor Seiichiro Mise handed out "seeds of peace," symbolizing his wish for their activism to grow.
Still, frustration lingers over Japan's refusal to join the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons, a stance shaped by its reliance on the U.S. nuclear umbrella. Survivors criticize this position, seeing it as incompatible with calls for disarmament.
In his address, Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba reaffirmed Japan's commitment to a nuclear-free world, promising to promote dialogue between nuclear and non-nuclear states at the 2026 Non-Proliferation Treaty review conference in New York. However, he did not mention the nuclear weapons ban treaty. Not all nations accepted Nagasaki's invitation to attend; China declined without explanation.
Last year's ceremony was marred by controversy after the city refused to invite Israel, prompting the absence of the U.S. ambassador and several other Western diplomats.
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