[Peace-discuss] Fwd: [WBPF] Hiroshima Day: America Has Been Asleep
at the Wheel for 64 Years
Morton K. Brussel
brussel at illinois.edu
Fri Aug 7 22:29:08 CDT 2009
Yes, an interesting peace by Daniel Ellsberg. --mkb
Begin forwarded message:
> From: "Caroline Herzenberg" <carol at herzenberg.net>
> Date: August 7, 2009 8:19:04 PM CDT
>
> Subject: [WBPF] Hiroshima Day: America Has Been Asleep at the Wheel
> for 64 Years
>
>
> An interesting piece by Daniel Ellsberg. It's easier to read online
> at:
> http://www.alternet.org/story/141822/
>
> - Carol
>
>
> ....................................................................
>
>
> Hiroshima Day: America Has Been Asleep at the Wheel for 64 Years
>
> By Daniel Ellsberg, Truthdig
> Posted on August 6, 2009, Printed on August 7, 2009
> http://www.alternet.org/story/141822/
>
>
> It was a hot August day in Detroit. I was standing on a street
> corner downtown, looking at the front page of The Detroit News in a
> news rack. I remember a streetcar rattling by on the tracks as I
> read the headline: A single American bomb had destroyed a Japanese
> city. My first thought was that I knew exactly what that bomb was.
> It was the U-235 bomb we had discussed in school and written papers
> about, the previous fall.
>
> I thought: "We got it first. And we used it. On a city."
>
> I had a sense of dread, a feeling that something very ominous for
> humanity had just happened. A feeling, new to me as an American, at
> 14, that my country might have made a terrible mistake. I was glad
> when the war ended nine days later, but it didn't make me think that
> my first reaction on Aug. 6 was wrong.
>
> Unlike nearly everyone else outside the Manhattan Project, my first
> awareness of the challenges of the nuclear era had occurred -- and
> my attitudes toward the advent of nuclear weaponry had formed --
> some nine months earlier than those headlines, and in a crucially
> different context.
>
> It was in a ninth-grade social studies class in the fall of 1944. I
> was 13, a boarding student on full scholarship at Cranbrook, a
> private school in Bloomfield Hills, Mich. Our teacher, Bradley
> Patterson, was discussing a concept that was familiar then in
> sociology, William F. Ogburn's notion of "cultural lag."
>
> The idea was that the development of technology regularly moved much
> further and faster in human social-historical evolution than other
> aspects of culture: our institutions of government, our values,
> habits, our understanding of society and ourselves. Indeed, the very
> notion of "progress" referred mainly to technology. What "lagged"
> behind, what developed more slowly or not at all in social
> adaptation to new technology was everything that bore on our ability
> to control and direct technology and the use of technology to
> dominate other humans.
>
> To illustrate this, Mr. Patterson posed a potential advance in
> technology that might be realized soon. It was possible now, he told
> us, to conceive of a bomb made of U-235, an isotope of uranium,
> which would have an explosive power 1,000 times greater than the
> largest bombs being used in the war that was then going on. German
> scientists in late 1938 had discovered that uranium could be split
> by nuclear fission, in a way that would release immense amounts of
> energy.
>
> Several popular articles about the possibility of atomic bombs and
> specifically U-235 bombs appeared during the war in magazines like
> The Saturday Evening Post. None of these represented leaks from the
> Manhattan Project, whose very existence was top-secret. In every
> case they had been inspired by earlier articles on the subject that
> had been published freely in 1939 and 1940, before scientific self-
> censorship and then formal classification had set in. Patterson had
> come across one of these wartime articles. He brought the potential
> development to us as an example of one more possible leap by science
> and technology ahead of our social institutions.
>
> Suppose, then, that one nation, or several, chose to explore the
> possibility of making this into a bomb, and succeeded. What would be
> the probable implications of this for humanity? How would it be
> used, by humans and states as they were today? Would it be, on
> balance, bad or good for the world? Would it be a force for peace,
> for example, or for destruction? We were to write a short essay on
> this, within a week.
>
> I recall the conclusions I came to in my paper after thinking about
> it for a few days. As I remember, everyone in the class had arrived
> at much the same judgment. It seemed pretty obvious.
>
> The existence of such a bomb -- we each concluded -- would be bad
> news for humanity. Mankind could not handle such a destructive
> force. It could not control it, safely, appropriately. The power
> would be "abused": used dangerously and destructively, with terrible
> consequences. Many cities would be destroyed entirely, just as the
> Allies were doing their best to destroy German cities without atomic
> bombs at that very time, just as the Germans earlier had attempted
> to do to Rotterdam and London. Civilization, perhaps our species,
> would be in danger of destruction.
>
> It was just too powerful. Bad enough that bombs already existed that
> could destroy a whole city block. They were called "block-busters":
> 10 tons of high explosive. Humanity didn't need the prospect of
> bombs a thousand times more powerful, bombs that could destroy whole
> cities.
>
> As I recall, this conclusion didn't depend mainly on who had the
> Bomb, or how many had it, or who got it first. And to the best of my
> memory, we in the class weren't addressing it as something that
> might come so soon as to bear on the outcome of the ongoing war. It
> seemed likely, the way the case was presented to us, that the
> Germans would get it first, since they had done the original
> science. But we didn't base our negative assessment on the idea that
> this would necessarily be a Nazi or German bomb. It would be a bad
> development, on balance, even if democratic countries got it first.
>
> After we turned in our papers and discussed them in class, it was
> months before I thought of the issues again. I remember the moment
> when I did, on a street corner in Detroit. I can still see and feel
> the scene and recall my thoughts, described above, as I read the
> headline on Aug. 6.
>
> I remember that I was uneasy, on that first day and in the days
> ahead, about the tone in President Harry Truman's voice on the radio
> as he exulted over our success in the race for the Bomb and its
> effectiveness against Japan. I generally admired Truman, then and
> later, but in hearing his announcements I was put off by the lack of
> concern in his voice, the absence of a sense of tragedy, of
> desperation or fear for the future. It seemed to me that this was a
> decision best made in anguish; and both Truman's manner and the tone
> of the official communiques made unmistakably clear that this hadn't
> been the case.
>
> Which meant for me that our leaders didn't have the picture, didn't
> grasp the significance of the precedent they had set and the
> sinister implications for the future. And that evident unawareness
> was itself scary. I believed that something ominous had happened;
> that it was bad for humanity that the Bomb was feasible, and that
> its use would have bad long-term consequences, whether or not those
> negatives were balanced or even outweighed by short-run benefits.
>
> Looking back, it seems clear to me my reactions then were right.
>
> Moreover, reflecting on two related themes that have run through my
> life since then -- intense abhorrence of nuclear weapons, and more
> generally of killing women and children -- I've come to suspect that
> I've conflated in my emotional memory two events less than a year
> apart: Hiroshima and a catastrophe that visited my own family 11
> months later.
>
> On the Fourth of July, 1946, driving on a hot afternoon on a flat,
> straight road through the cornfields of Iowa -- on the way from
> Detroit to visit our relatives in Denver -- my father fell asleep at
> the wheel and went off the road long enough to hit a sidewall over a
> culvert that sheared off the right side of the car, killing my
> mother and sister.
>
> My father's nose was broken and his forehead was cut. When a highway
> patrol car came by, he was wandering by the wreckage, bleeding and
> dazed. I was inside, in a coma from a concussion, with a large gash
> on the left side of my forehead. I had been sitting on the floor
> next to the back seat, on a suitcase covered with a blanket, with my
> head just behind the driver's seat. When the car hit the wall, my
> head was thrown against a metal fixture on the back of the driver's
> seat, knocking me out and opening up a large triangular flap of
> flesh on my forehead. I was in coma for 36 hours. My legs had been
> stretched out in front of me across the car and my right leg was
> broken just above the knee.
>
> My father had been a highway engineer in Nebraska. He said that
> highway walls should never have been flush with the road like that,
> and later laws tended to ban that placement. This one took off the
> side of the car where my mother and sister were sitting, my sister
> looking forward and my mother facing left with her back to the side
> of the car. My brother, who came to the scene from Detroit, said
> later that when he saw what was left of the car in a junkyard, the
> right side looked like steel wool. It was amazing that anyone had
> survived.
>
> My understanding of how that event came about -- it wasn't entirely
> an accident, as I heard from my father, that he had kept driving
> when he was exhausted -- and how it affected my life is a story for
> another time. But looking back now, at what I drew from reading the
> Pentagon Papers later and on my citizen's activism since then, I
> think I saw in the events of August 1945 and July 1946,
> unconsciously, a common message. I loved my father, and I respected
> Truman. But you couldn't rely entirely on a trusted authority -- no
> matter how well-intentioned he was, however much you admired him --
> to protect you, and your family, from disaster. You couldn't safely
> leave events entirely to the care of authorities. Some vigilance was
> called for, to awaken them if need be or warn others. They could be
> asleep at the wheel, heading for a wall or a cliff. I saw that later
> in Lyndon Johnson and in his successor, and I've seen it since.
>
> But I sensed almost right away, in August 1945 as Hiroshima and
> Nagasaki were incinerated, that such feelings -- about our
> president, and our Bomb -- separated me from nearly everyone around
> me, from my parents and friends and from most other Americans. They
> were not to be mentioned. They could only sound unpatriotic. And in
> World War II, that was about the last way one wanted to sound. These
> were thoughts to be kept to myself.
>
> Unlikely thoughts for a 14-year-old American boy to have had the
> week the war ended? Yes, if he hadn't been in Mr. Patterson's social
> studies class the previous fall. Every member of that class must
> have had the same flash of recognition of the Bomb, as they read the
> August headlines during our summer vacation. Beyond that, I don't
> know whether they responded as I did, in the terms of our earlier
> discussion.
>
> But neither our conclusions then or reactions like mine on Aug. 6
> stamped us as gifted prophets. Before that day perhaps no one in the
> public outside our class -- no one else outside the Manhattan
> Project (and very few inside it) -- had spent a week, as we had, or
> even a day thinking about the impact of such a weapon on the long-
> run prospects for humanity.
>
> And we were set apart from our fellow Americans in another important
> way. Perhaps no others outside the project or our class ever had
> occasion to think about the Bomb without the strongly biasing
> positive associations that accompanied their first awareness in
> August 1945 of its very possibility: that it was "our" weapon, an
> instrument of American democracy developed to deter a Nazi Bomb,
> pursued by two presidents, a war-winning weapon and a necessary one
> -- so it was claimed and almost universally believed -- to end the
> war without a costly invasion of Japan.
>
> Unlike nearly all the others who started thinking about the new
> nuclear era after Aug. 6, our attitudes of the previous fall had not
> been shaped, or warped, by the claim and appearance that such a
> weapon had just won a war for the forces of justice, a feat that
> supposedly would otherwise have cost a million American lives (and
> as many or more Japanese).
>
> For nearly all other Americans, whatever dread they may have felt
> about the long-run future of the Bomb (and there was more expression
> of this in elite media than most people remembered later) was offset
> at the time and ever afterward by a powerful aura of its legitimacy,
> and its almost miraculous potential for good which had already been
> realized. For a great many Americans still, the Hiroshima and
> Nagasaki bombs are regarded above all with gratitude, for having
> saved their own lives or the lives of their husbands, brothers,
> fathers or grandfathers, which would otherwise have been at risk in
> the invasion of Japan. For these Americans and many others, the Bomb
> was not so much an instrument of massacre as a kind of savior, a
> protector of precious lives.
>
> Most Americans ever since have seen the destruction of the
> populations of Hiroshima and Nagasaki as necessary and effective --
> as constituting just means, in effect just terrorism, under the
> supposed circumstances -- thus legitimating, in their eyes, the
> second and third largest single-day massacres in history. (The
> largest, also by the U.S. Army Air Corps, was the firebombing of
> Tokyo five months before on the night of March 9, which burned alive
> or suffocated 80,000 to 120,000 civilians. Most of the very few
> Americans who are aware of this event at all accept it, too, as
> appropriate in wartime.)
>
> To regard those acts as definitely other than criminal and immoral
> -- as most Americans do -- is to believe that anything -- anything
> -- can be legitimate means: at worst, a necessary, lesser, evil. At
> least, if done by Americans, on the order of a president, during
> wartime. Indeed, we are the only country in the world that believes
> it won a war by bombing -- specifically by bombing cities with
> weapons of mass destruction -- and believes that it was fully
> rightful in doing so. It is a dangerous state of mind.
>
> Even if the premises of these justifications had been realistic
> (after years of study I'm convinced, along with many scholars, that
> they were not; but I'm not addressing that here), the consequences
> of such beliefs for subsequent policymaking were bound to be
> fateful. They underlie the American government and public's ready
> acceptance ever since of basing our security on readiness to carry
> out threats of mass annihilation by nuclear weapons, and the belief
> by many officials and elites still today that abolition of these
> weapons is not only infeasible but undesirable.
>
> By contrast, given a few days' reflection in the summer of 1945
> before a presidential fait accompli was framed in that fashion, you
> didn't have to be a moral prodigy to arrive at the sense of
> foreboding we all had in Mr. Patterson's class. It was as easily
> available to 13-year-old ninth-graders as it was to many Manhattan
> Project scientists, who also had the opportunity to form their
> judgments before the Bomb was used.
>
> But the scientists knew something else that was unknown to the
> public and even to most high-level decision-makers. They knew that
> the atomic bombs, the uranium and plutonium fission bombs they were
> preparing, were only the precursors to far more powerful explosives,
> almost surely including a thermonuclear fusion bomb, later called
> the hydrogen bomb, or H-bomb. That weapon -- of which we eventually
> came to have tens of thousands -- could have an explosive yield much
> greater than the fission bombs needed to trigger it. A thousand
> times greater.
>
> Moreover, most of the scientists who focused on the long-run
> implications of nuclear weapons, belatedly, after the surrender of
> Germany in May 1945 believed that using the Bomb against Japan would
> make international control of the weapon very unlikely. In turn that
> would make inevitable a desperate arms race, which would soon expose
> the United States to adversaries' uncontrolled possession of
> thermonuclear weapons, so that, as the scientists said in a pre-
> attack petition to the president, "the cities of the United States
> as well as the cities of other nations will be in continuous danger
> of sudden annihilation." (In this they were proved correct.) They
> cautioned the president-on both moral grounds and considerations of
> long-run survival of civilization-against beginning this process by
> using the Bomb against Japan even if its use might shorten the war.
>
> But their petition was sent "through channels" and was deliberately
> held back by Gen. Leslie Groves, director of the Manhattan Project.
> It never got to the president, or even to Secretary of War Henry
> Stimson until after the Bomb had been dropped. There is no record
> that the scientists' concerns about the future and their judgment of
> a nuclear attack's impact on it were ever made known to President
> Truman before or after his decisions. Still less, made known to the
> American public.
>
> At the end of the war the scientists' petition and their reasoning
> were reclassified secret to keep it from public knowledge, and its
> existence was unknown for more than a decade. Several Manhattan
> Project scientists later expressed regret that they had earlier
> deferred to the demands of the secrecy managers -- for fear of
> losing their clearances and positions, and perhaps facing
> prosecution -- and had collaborated in maintaining public ignorance
> on this most vital of issues.
>
> One of them -- Eugene Rabinowitch, who after the war founded and
> edited the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists (with its Doomsday
> Clock) -- had in fact, after the German surrender in May, actively
> considered breaking ranks and alerting the American public to the
> existence of the Bomb, the plans for using it against Japan, and the
> scientists' views both of the moral issues and the long-term dangers
> of doing so.
>
> He first reported this in a letter to The New York Times published
> on June 28, 1971. It was the day I submitted to arrest at the
> federal courthouse in Boston; for 13 days previous, my wife and I
> had been underground, eluding the FBI while distributing the
> Pentagon Papers to 17 newspapers after injunctions had halted
> publication in the Times and The Washington Post. The Rabinowitch
> letter began by saying it was "the revelation by The Times of the
> Pentagon history of U.S. intervention in Vietnam, despite its
> classification as 'secret' " that led him now to reveal:
>
> "Before the atom bomb-drops on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, I had spent
> sleepless nights thinking that I should reveal to the American
> people, perhaps through a reputable news organ, the fateful act --
> the first introduction of atomic weapons -- which the U.S.
> Government planned to carry out without consultation with its
> people. Twenty-five years later, I feel I would have been right if I
> had done so."
>
> I didn't see this the morning it was published, because I was
> getting myself arrested and arraigned, for doing what Rabinowitch
> wishes he had done in 1945, and I wish I had done in 1964. I first
> came across this extraordinary confession by a would-be whistle-
> blower (I don't know another like it) in "Hiroshima in America:
> Fifty Years of Denial" by Robert Jay Lifton and Greg Mitchell (New
> York, 1995, p. 249).
>
> Rereading Rabinowitch's statement, still with some astonishment, I
> agree with him. He was right to consider it, and he would have been
> right if he had done it. He would have faced prosecution and prison
> then (as I did at the time his letter was published), but he would
> have been more than justified, as a citizen and as a human being, in
> informing the American public and burdening them with shared
> responsibility for the fateful decision.
>
> Some of the same scientists faced a comparable challenge four years
> after Hiroshima, addressing the possible development of an even more
> terrible weapon, more fraught with possible danger to human
> survival: the hydrogen bomb. This time some who had urged use of the
> atom bomb against Japan (dissenting from the petitioners above)
> recommended against even development and testing of the new
> proposal, in view of its "extreme dangers to mankind." "Let it be
> clearly realized," they said, "that this is a super weapon; it is in
> a totally different category from an atomic bomb" (Herbert York,
> "The Advisors" [California, 1976], p. 156).
>
> Once more, as I learned much later, knowledge of the secret
> possibility was not completely limited to government scientists. A
> few others -- my father, it turns out, was one -- knew of this
> prospect before it had received the stamp of presidential approval
> and had become an American government project. And once again, under
> those conditions of prior knowledge (denied as before to the
> public), to grasp the moral and long-run dangers you didn't have to
> be a nuclear physicist. My father was not.
>
> Some background is needed here. My father, Harry Ellsberg, was a
> structural engineer. He worked for Albert Kahn in Detroit, the
> "Arsenal of Democracy." At the start of the Second World War, he was
> the chief structural engineer in charge of designing the Ford Willow
> Run plant, a factory to make B-24 Liberator bombers for the Air
> Corps. (On June 1 this year, GM, now owner, announced it would close
> the plant as part of its bankruptcy proceedings.)
>
> Dad was proud of the fact that it was the world's largest industrial
> building under one roof. It put together bombers the way Ford
> produced cars, on an assembly line. The assembly line was a mile and
> a quarter long.
>
> My father told me that it had ended up L-shaped, instead of in a
> straight line as he had originally designed it. When the site was
> being prepared, Ford comptrollers noted that the factory would run
> over a county line, into an adjacent county where the company had
> less control and local taxes were higher. So the design, for the
> assembly line and the factory housing it, had to be bent at right
> angles to stay inside Ford country.
>
> Once, my father took me out to Willow Run to see the line in
> operation. For as far as I could see, the huge metal bodies of
> planes were moving along tracks as workers riveted and installed
> parts. It was like pictures I had seen of steer carcasses in a
> Chicago slaughterhouse. But as Dad had explained to me, three-
> quarters of a mile along, the bodies were moved off the tracks onto
> a circular turntable that rotated them 90 degrees; then they were
> moved back on track for the last half mile of the L. Finally, the
> planes were rolled out the hangar doors at the end of the factory --
> one every hour: It took 59 minutes on the line to build a plane with
> its 100,000 parts from start to finish -- filled with gas and flown
> out to war. (Click here and here for sources and photographs.)
>
> It was an exciting sight for a 13-year-old. I was proud of my
> father. His next wartime job had been to design a still larger
> airplane engine factory -- again the world's largest plant under one
> roof -- the Dodge Chicago plant, which made all the engines for B-29s.
>
> When the war ended, Dad accepted an offer to oversee the buildup of
> the plutonium production facilities at Hanford, Wash. That project
> was being run by General Electric under contract with the Atomic
> Energy Commission. To take the job of chief structural engineer on
> the project, Dad moved from the engineering firm of Albert Kahn,
> where he had worked for years, to what became Giffels & Rossetti.
> Later he told me that engineering firm had the largest volume of
> construction contracts in the world at that time, and his project
> was the world's largest. I grew up hearing these superlatives.
>
> The Hanford project gave my father his first really good salary. But
> while I was away as a sophomore at Harvard, he left his job with
> Giffels & Rossetti, for reasons I never learned at the time. He was
> out of work for almost a year. Then he went back as chief structural
> engineer for the whole firm. Almost 30 years later, in 1978, when my
> father was 89, I happened to ask him why he had left Giffels &
> Rossetti. His answer startled me.
>
> He said, "Because they wanted me to help build the H-bomb."
>
> This was a breathtaking statement for me to hear in 1978. I was in
> full-time active opposition to the deployment of the neutron bomb --
> which was a small H-bomb -- that President Jimmy Carter was
> proposing to send to Europe. The N-bomb had a killing radius from
> its output of neutrons that was much wider than its radius of
> destruction by blast. Optimally, an airburst N-bomb would have
> little fallout nor would it destroy structures, equipment or
> vehicles, but its neutrons would kill the humans either outside or
> within buildings or tanks. The Soviets mocked it as "a capitalist
> weapon" that destroyed people but not property; but they tested such
> a weapon too, as did other countries.
>
> I had opposed developing or testing that concept for almost 20
> years, since it was first described to me by my friend and colleague
> at the RAND Corp., Sam Cohen, who liked to be known as the "father
> of the neutron bomb." I feared that, as a "small" weapon with
> limited and seemingly controllable lethal effects, it would be seen
> as usable in warfare, making U.S. first use and "limited nuclear
> war" more likely. It would be the match that would set off an
> exchange of the much larger, dirty weapons which were the bulk of
> our arsenal and were all that the Soviets then had.
>
> In the year of this conversation with Dad, I was arrested four times
> blocking the railroad tracks at the Rocky Flats Nuclear Weapons
> Production Facility, which produced all the plutonium triggers for H-
> bombs and was going to produce the plutonium cores for neutron
> bombs. One of these arrests was on Nagasaki Day, Aug. 9. The
> "triggers" produced at Rocky Flats were, in effect, the nuclear
> components of A-bombs, plutonium fission bombs of the type that had
> destroyed Nagasaki on that date in 1945.
>
> Every one of our many thousands of H-bombs, the thermonuclear fusion
> bombs that arm our strategic forces, requires a Nagasaki-type A-bomb
> as its detonator. (I doubt that one American in a hundred knows that
> simple fact, and thus has a clear understanding of the difference
> between A- and H-bombs, or of the reality of the thermonuclear
> arsenals of the last 50 years.
>
> Our popular image of nuclear war -- from the familiar pictures of
> the devastation of Nagasaki and Hiroshima -- is grotesquely
> misleading. Those pictures show us only what happens to humans and
> buildings when they are hit by what is now just the detonating cap
> for a modern nuclear weapon.
>
> The plutonium for these weapons came from Hanford and from the
> Savannah River Site in Georgia and was machined into weapons
> components at Rocky Flats, in Colorado. Allen Ginsberg and I, with
> many others, blockaded the entrances to the plant on Aug. 9, 1978,
> to interrupt business as usual on the anniversary of the day a
> plutonium bomb had killed 58,000 humans (about 100,000 had died by
> the end of 1945).
>
> I had never heard before of any connection of my father with the H-
> bomb. He wasn't particularly wired in to my anti-nuclear work or to
> any of my activism since the Vietnam War had ended. I asked him what
> he meant by his comment about leaving Giffels & Rossetti.
>
> "They wanted me to be in charge of designing a big plant that would
> be producing material for an H-bomb." He said that DuPont, which had
> built the Hanford Site, was to have the contract from the Atomic
> Energy Commission. That would have been for the Savannah River Site.
> I asked him when this was.
>
> "Late '49."
>
> I told him, "You must have the date wrong. You couldn't have heard
> about the hydrogen bomb then, it's too early." I'd just been reading
> about that, in Herb York's recent book, "The Advisors." The General
> Advisory Committee (GAC) of the AEC -- chaired by Robert Oppenheimer
> and including James Conant, Enrico Fermi and Isidor Rabi -- were
> considering that fall whether or not to launch a crash program for
> an H-bomb. That was the "super weapon" referred to earlier. They had
> advised strongly against it, but President Truman overruled them.
>
> "Truman didn't make the decision to go ahead till January 1950.
> Meanwhile the whole thing was super-secret. You couldn't have heard
> about it in '49."
>
> My father said, "Well, somebody had to design the plant if they were
> going to go ahead. I was the logical person. I was in charge of the
> structural engineering of the whole project at Hanford after the
> war. I had a Q clearance."
>
> That was the first I'd ever heard that he'd had had a Q clearance --
> an AEC clearance for nuclear weapons design and stockpile data. I'd
> had that clearance myself in the Pentagon -- along with close to a
> dozen other special clearances above top-secret -- after I left the
> RAND Corp. for the Defense Department in 1964. It was news to me
> that my father had had a clearance, but it made sense that he would
> have needed one for Hanford.
>
> I said, "So you're telling me that you would have been one of the
> only people in the country, outside the GAC, who knew we were
> considering building the H-bomb in 1949?"
>
> He said, "I suppose so. Anyway, I know it was late '49, because
> that's when I quit."
>
> "Why did you quit?"
>
> "I didn't want to make an H-bomb. Why, that thing was going to be
> 1,000 times more powerful than the A-bomb!"
>
> I thought, score one for his memory at 89. He remembered the
> proportion correctly. That was the same factor Oppenheimer and the
> others predicted in their report in 1949. They were right. The first
> explosion of a true H-bomb, five years later, had a thousand times
> the explosive power of the Hiroshima blast.
>
> At 15 megatons -- the equivalent of 15 million tons of high
> explosive -- it was over a million times more powerful than the
> largest conventional bombs of World War II. That one bomb had almost
> eight times the explosive force of all the bombs we dropped in that
> war: more than all the explosions in all the wars in human history.
> In 1961, the Soviets tested a 58-megaton H-bomb.
>
> My father went on: "I hadn't wanted to work on the A-bomb, either.
> But then Einstein seemed to think that we needed it, and it made
> sense to me that we had to have it against the Russians. So I took
> the job, but I never felt good about it.
>
> "Then when they told me they were going to build a bomb 1,000 times
> bigger, that was it for me. I went back to my office and I said to
> my deputy, 'These guys are crazy. They have an A-bomb, now they want
> an H-bomb. They're going to go right through the alphabet till they
> have a Z-bomb.' "
>
> I said, "Well, so far they've only gotten up to N."
>
> He said, "There was another thing about it that I couldn't stand.
> Building these things generated a lot of radioactive waste. I wasn't
> responsible for designing the containers for the waste, but I knew
> they were bound to leak eventually. That stuff was deadly forever.
> It was radioactive for 24,000 years."
>
> Again he had turned up a good figure. I said, "Your memory is
> working pretty well. It would be deadly a lot longer than that, but
> that's about the half-life of plutonium."
>
> There were tears in his eyes. He said huskily, "I couldn't stand the
> thought that I was working on a project that was poisoning parts of
> my own country forever, that might make parts of it uninhabitable
> for thousands of years."
>
> I thought over what he'd said; then I asked him if anyone else
> working with him had had misgivings. He didn't know.
>
> "Were you the only one who quit?" He said yes. He was leaving the
> best job he'd ever had, and he didn't have any other to turn to. He
> lived on savings for a while and did some consulting.
>
> I thought about Oppenheimer and Conant -- both of whom had
> recommended dropping the atomic bomb on Hiroshima -- and Fermi and
> Rabi, who had, that same month Dad was resigning, expressed
> internally their opposition to development of the superbomb in the
> most extreme terms possible: It was potentially "a weapon of
> genocide ? carries much further than the atomic bomb itself the
> policy of exterminating civilian populations ? whose power of
> destruction is essentially unlimited ? a threat to the future of the
> human race which is intolerable ? a danger to humanity as a whole ?
> necessarily an evil thing considered in any light" (York, "The
> Advisor," pp. 155-159).
>
> Not one of these men risked his clearance by sharing his anxieties
> and the basis for them with the American public. Oppenheimer and
> Conant considered resigning their advisory positions when the
> president went ahead against their advice. But they were persuaded-
> by Dean Acheson-not to quit at that time, lest that draw public
> attention to their expert judgment that the president's course
> fatally endangered humanity.
>
> I asked my father what had made him feel so strongly, to act in a
> way that nobody else had done. He said, "You did."
>
> That didn't make any sense. I said, "What do you mean? We didn't
> discuss this at all. I didn't know anything about it."
>
> Dad said, "It was earlier. I remember you came home with a book one
> day, and you were crying. It was about Hiroshima. You said, 'Dad,
> you've got to read this. It's the worst thing I've ever read.' "
>
> I said that must have been John Hersey's book "Hiroshima." (I read
> it when it came out as a book. I was in the hospital when it filled
> The New Yorker in August 1946.) I didn't remember giving it to him.
>
> "Yes. Well, I read it, and you were right. That's when I started to
> feel bad about working on an atomic bomb project. And then when they
> said they wanted me to work on a hydrogen bomb, it was too much for
> me. I thought it was time for me to get out."
>
> I asked if he had told his bosses why he was quitting. He said he
> told some people, not others. The ones he told seemed to understand
> his feelings. In fact, in less than a year, the head of the firm
> called to say that they wanted him to come back as chief structural
> engineer for the whole firm. They were dropping the DuPont contract
> (they didn't say why), so he wouldn't have to have anything to do
> with the AEC or bomb-making. He stayed with them till he retired.
>
> I said, finally, "Dad, how could I not ever have heard any of this
> before? How come you never said anything about it?"
>
> My father said, "Oh, I couldn't tell any of this to my family. You
> weren't cleared."
>
> Well, I finally got my clearances, a decade after my father gave his
> up. And for some years, they were my undoing, though they turned out
> to be useful in the end. A decade later they allowed me to read the
> Pentagon Papers and to keep them in my "Top Secret" safe at the RAND
> Corp., from which I eventually delivered them to the Senate Foreign
> Relations Committee and later to 19 newspapers.
>
> We have long needed and lacked the equivalent of the Pentagon Papers
> on the subject of nuclear policies and preparations, nuclear threats
> and decision-making: above all in the United States and Russia but
> also in the other nuclear-weapons states. I deeply regret that I did
> not make known to Congress, the American public and the world the
> extensive documentation of persistent and still-unknown nuclear
> dangers that was available to me 40 to 50 years ago as a consultant
> to and official in the executive branch working on nuclear war
> plans, command and control and nuclear crises. Those in nuclear-
> weapons states who are in a position now to do more than I did then
> to alert their countries and the world to fatally reckless secret
> policies should take warning from the earlier inaction of myself and
> others: and do better.
>
> That I had high-level access and played such a role in nuclear
> planning is, of course, deeply ironic in view of the personal
> history recounted above. My feelings of revulsion and foreboding
> about nuclear weapons had not changed an iota since 1945, and they
> have never left me. Since I was 14, the overriding objective of my
> life has been to prevent the occurrence of nuclear war.
>
> There was a close analogy with the Manhattan Project. Its scientists
> -- most of whom hoped the Bomb would never be used for anything but
> as a threat to deter Germany -- were driven by a plausible but
> mistaken fear that the Nazis were racing them. Actually the Nazis
> had rejected the pursuit of the atomic bomb on practical grounds in
> June 1942, just as the Manhattan Project was beginning. Similarly, I
> was one of many in the late '50s who were misled and recruited into
> the nuclear arms race by exaggerated, and in this case deliberately
> manipulated, fears of Soviet intentions and crash efforts.
>
> Precisely because I did receive clearances and was exposed to top-
> secret intelligence estimates, in particular from the Air Force, I,
> along with my colleagues at the RAND Corp., came to be preoccupied
> with the urgency of averting nuclear war by deterring a Soviet
> surprise attack that would exploit an alleged "missile gap." That
> supposed dangerous U.S. inferiority was exactly as unfounded in
> reality as the fear of the Nazi crash bomb program had been, or, to
> pick a more recent example, as concern over Saddam Hussein's
> supposed WMDs and nuclear pursuit in 2003.
>
> Working conscientiously, obsessively, on a wrong problem, countering
> an illusory threat, I and my colleagues distracted ourselves and
> helped distract others from dealing with real dangers posed by the
> mutual and spreading possession of nuclear weapons -- dangers which
> we were helping make worse -- and from real opportunities to make
> the world more secure. Unintentionally, yet inexcusably, we made our
> country and the world less safe.
>
> Eventually the Soviets did emulate us in creating a world-
> threatening nuclear capability on hair-trigger alert. That still
> exists; Russian nuclear posture and policies continue, along with
> ours, to endanger our countries, civilization and much of life
> itself. But the persistent reality has been that the nuclear arms
> race has been driven primarily by American initiatives and policies
> and that every major American decision in this 64-year-old nuclear
> era has been accompanied by unwarranted concealment, deliberate
> obfuscation, and official and public delusions.
>
> I have believed for a long time that official secrecy and deceptions
> about our nuclear weapons posture and policies and their possible
> consequences have threatened the survival of the human species. To
> understand the urgency of radical changes in our nuclear policies
> that may truly move the world toward abolition of nuclear weapons,
> we need a new understanding of the real history of the nuclear age.
>
> Using the new opportunities offered by the Internet -- drawing
> attention to newly declassified documents and to some realities
> still concealed -- I plan over the next year, before the 65th
> anniversary of Hiroshima, to do my part in unveiling this hidden
> history.
>
>
> © 2009 Truthdig All rights reserved.
> View this story online at: http://www.alternet.org/story/141822/
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