Hiroshima and Nagasaki: Eighty years since America’s greatest war crimes

Eighty years ago, the United States committed what many historians and ethicists still regard as the greatest war crimes in human history: the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

For far too long, Americans have justified these attacks as a “necessary evil,” claiming they were the only way to end World War II. But the passage of time demands an honest reckoning. It is no longer acceptable to cling to the myth of necessity.

The reality is that the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki were deliberate acts of mass killing that targeted civilians and redefined the meaning of state-sponsored terror.

The unprecedented destruction

On August 6, 1945, the United States dropped an atomic bomb nicknamed Little Boy on Hiroshima. Three days later, on August 9, a second bomb, Fat Man, leveled Nagasaki. These remain the only nuclear attacks ever carried out in human history.

The devastation was unlike anything the world had ever seen. In Hiroshima alone, the explosion obliterated nearly every structure within a two-mile radius. Entire neighborhoods were flattened in an instant. Survivors described a blinding flash of light followed by a firestorm that consumed the city.

The human toll was staggering. By the end of 1945, as many as 250,000 people—overwhelmingly civilians—had perished in both cities. Nearly half died instantly, their bodies reduced to ash by the intense heat. Shadows of incinerated victims were permanently etched into walls and pavement, grotesque reminders of their final moments.

Those who survived the initial blast endured unimaginable suffering: ruptured organs from shockwaves, skin melting from radiation burns, and the slow agony of radiation sickness. Many succumbed in the weeks and months that followed, while countless others lived with lifelong injuries and illnesses.

Were the bombs “necessary”?

The American government’s justification has long rested on the claim that the bombings spared lives by avoiding a bloody ground invasion of Japan. Officials argued that the Japanese military, bound by the Bushido warrior code, would never surrender willingly and that an invasion could cost up to a million American lives and many more Japanese casualties.

But history tells a different story. The U.S. Strategic Bombing Survey of 1946 concluded that “Japan would have surrendered even if the atomic bombs had not been dropped.”

By the summer of 1945, Japan’s military was crippled. Allied firebombing had already destroyed dozens of Japanese cities, and Operation Starvation, a naval blockade, had brought the economy to the brink of collapse. The Japanese government was secretly appealing to the Soviet Union—then still neutral—to mediate peace.

What truly forced Japan’s hand was not the nuclear bombings but the Soviet Union’s declaration of war on August 9, 1945, and its swift invasion of Japanese-held Manchuria. Within days, Japan’s leaders realized they could no longer avoid unconditional defeat.

A calculated act of terror

The atomic bombings were not acts of military necessity—they were calculated acts of terror designed to send a message. Internal documents reveal that American planners deliberately selected large population centers like Hiroshima to maximize “psychological effect” and ensure the bombs’ use would be “sufficiently spectacular” to demonstrate U.S. dominance on the world stage.

HIROSHIMA - Dropping the bomb 1945

This was not just about ending the war with Japan. It was about beginning the next war: the Cold War. The destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki was as much a warning to the Soviet Union as it was an attack on Japan. The atomic bomb was America’s way of declaring itself the global superpower of the postwar order.

Racism and dehumanization

The decision to unleash nuclear weapons on Japan cannot be separated from the deep racism that pervaded American culture and policy at the time. Japanese people were routinely dehumanized in U.S. propaganda as “rats,” “monkeys,” or “vermin.”

American servicemen frequently collected Japanese body parts as trophies—ears, teeth, even skulls—while officials looked the other way. President Roosevelt himself was once presented with a letter opener made from a Japanese soldier’s bone.

Dehumanization made it easier for American leaders to rationalize mass killing. When a people are cast as less than human, their annihilation becomes easier to justify.

The moral reckoning

In the decades since, many of those involved in the bombings themselves admitted the moral weight of their actions. Robert S. McNamara, who later served as U.S. Secretary of Defense, reflected: “If we’d lost the war, we’d all have been prosecuted as war criminals.”

The reality is that the bombings meet the textbook definition of terrorism: the deliberate targeting of civilians to instill fear and achieve political ends. Far from being unavoidable, they were unnecessary acts of state violence carried out against a population already on the edge of surrender.

Eighty years later

Eight decades have passed, yet America still struggles to confront this dark chapter with honesty. Hiroshima and Nagasaki are often remembered in the U.S. as tragic but necessary steps toward peace. But peace built on terror cannot erase the truth: the bombings were war crimes.

Remembering Hiroshima and Nagasaki demands more than solemn speeches and visits to memorials. It requires acknowledgment of the injustice done, accountability for the choices made, and a commitment to ensure such atrocities are never repeated.

If we truly wish to honor the victims, we must confront the legacy of August 1945 not as a story of triumph, but as a sobering reminder of the dangers of unchecked power, racial hatred, and the willingness to sacrifice innocent lives for political ends.

Surely eighty years is long enough. It is time for America to admit the truth: Hiroshima and Nagasaki were not the lesser of two evils. They were crimes against humanity.