Waving or drowning?

On 11 March 2011 Japan faced a triple catastrophe – the worst the world has ever known. The TÅhoku earthquake that struck off the country's northern coast, recorded 9 on the Richter scale. It shifted the country two metres closer to the US, sank Japan's coastline by a metre and spawned a tsunami that devoured towns and farmland. It was followed by the worst nuclear emergency since Chernobyl as three reactors at Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Station went into partial meltdown while spent fuel rods at another reactor caught fire, spewing radioactive material into the sky.

Six weeks prior to the TÅhoku earthquake, I stood in the Peace Memorial Museum in Hiroshima, trying to come to terms with the harrowing and unutterably tragic exhibits: a watch still intact but frozen at 8.15 am on 6 August 1945 – the moment the atom bomb exploded; a young boy's skin and finger nails kept by his mother to show his father who was away fighting when the bomb fell; hair taken from dead children; carbonised school lunches still neatly packed in tins. In the Peace Memorial Park a bell tolls steadily. Hushed visitors leave bottles of spring water to comfort the souls of those who died blistered and seared by a roiling furnace that blasted temperatures close to that of the sun's surface. I thought about my father and how he was starving in Changi as a prisoner of the Japanese when he heard about the attack on Hiroshima. Two sides of the same coin.

By the end of 1945, approximately 140,000 people in Hiroshima, and 70,000 people in Nagasaki died because of the atom bombs. The Registers of the Names of the Fallen Atomic Bomb Victims of the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki contain the names of roughly 420,000 people, with more than 200,000 A-bomb survivors living today.

John Herseys' classic Hiroshima follows a handful of survivors through the bombing and the days and years of suffering that followed. His book describes scenes of hell, of unspeakable agony and despair; of selflessness, courage, humility, grace and hope.

Mr Tanimoto arrived in the city immediately after the bomb fell. He felt such guilt as a survivor in the face of unimaginable horror and tragedy that he called out to the burned and lacerated people, 'Excuse me for having no burden like yours!' A German priest gave water to victims whose faces had disintegrated from flash burns. Despite their agony, they raised themselves to bow to him in thanks.

The survivors seemed to share what Hershey describes as a kind of elated community spirit, similar to what Londoners felt after the blitz; a pride in the way they had survived. Just three days after the bomb fell, the Hiroshima citizens had managed to get some street cars running and electricity working.

The 2011 earthquake and tsunami claimed the lives of more than 20,000 people and destroyed more than 112,000 homes and buildings. The final toll of the nuclear disaster may not be known for decades. The immediate economic impact was severe as industrial production ceased in many factories, infrastructure was destroyed and supply chains broken. A shortage of Japanese components also affected global markets. By April 2011 the Japanese government estimates of the cost of the direct material damage were revised upwards, to US$300 billion. All this was in the face of a weakening global demand that would slow Japan's recovery.

The same spirit of civility, consideration, forbearance and pride that was seen in Hiroshima was evident in the aftermath of the 2011 catastrophe. Volunteer headquarters in the northeast were inundated with offers of help – so much so that they had to relocate some of the helpers to shelter facilities closer to Tokyo. Many people gave up their holidays to catch up with work, making up for lost time during the initial first weeks of the disaster. Kaori Shoji, writing for the Japan Times on 16 May 2011, describes a surge of national feeling with the media carrying slogans like, 'Let's connect, Japan' and 'Let's Move Forward, Japan'.

Within four months of the tsunami, more than 5,700 safes containing approximately $30 million had been recovered from the three hardest hit prefectures, including Fukushima, and nearly 96 per cent, or nearly $29.6 million in cash, had already been returned to its rightful owners, or closest relative.

The Japanese agricultural ministry reported that by the end of July 2011, nearly half of the 22.63 million tons of debris in Iwate, Miyagi, and Fukushima Prefectures had been removed. By mid-July 73.7 per cent of farming businesses affected by the quake and tsunami in eight prefectures had resumed operations while 35.5 per cent of fishing entities had returned to business. (Figures exclude Fukushima because of the ongoing nuclear crisis.)

But, survival in Japan is not easy. Some scars are not immediately obvious and take longer to heal. Victims of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings are called 'Hibakusha', which means 'explosion-affected persons'. The Japanese avoided the term 'survivor' when referring to these people as they felt it diminished the dead in some way. After the war many people, particularly employers, were prejudiced against the Hibakusha.

In Hiroshima there had been an unthinkable failure of authority following the explosion of the atomic bomb as those in power were left helpless in the face of a disaster all the more incomprehensible because it was brought about by human design. The situation was not helped by the strict censorship that was enforced so that not even the Japanese knew how bad things were in the broken city.

Like the Hibakusha, victims of the recent catastrophe in Japan are facing some prejudice and hostility. In the Fukushima region thousands of people are still displaced, having fled the earthquake, the tsunami and the nuclear disaster. Many of their countrymen see their flight as being 'un-Japanese' and as a betrayal of those left behind. Added to this, the refugees suffer a cultural form of survivor's guilt – just like Hiroshima.

Just as in Hiroshima, the Japanese people were kept in the dark about the recent nuclear disaster. Government officials controlled information in order to limit evacuations and to shield the politically powerful nuclear industry. As in the past, the human role in the exacerbation of the tragedy makes it harder for survivors to come to terms with what happened to them.

Steven Picou, a sociologist from the University of South Alabama, interviewed in the New York Times on 9 March 2011 explains that, 'mental distress tends to linger longer after man-made disasters, like an oil spill or radiation leak, than after purely natural ones, like a hurricane….To move past a catastrophe, people usually need to be able to tell themselves a clear story about what happened'.

In the case of Hiroshima and in the case of the recent nuclear disaster, the causes and outcomes are not clear cut and people are angry because of the misinformation they have been fed.

Japanese psychologists expect that many of their countrymen, particularly the more elderly, will attempt to manage their anger, grief and anxiety alone. Kai Erikson, a sociologist at Yale, believes that the destruction and polluting of the environment will have a negative and disorientating psychological effect, especially on rural communities where people identify strongly with the land.

Japan has one of the highest suicide rates in the world and a recent national survey shows that suicide rates in Japan have increased in the months since the disaster compared to the same timeframe in the previous two years.

The phoenix perception

Japan has had more than her fair share of catastrophic events, having dealt with disasters like the massive Kanto Earthquake that hit the Tokyo area in 1923, killing tens of thousands and nearly destroying the city; the trauma and destruction of World War II; the 1995 earthquake in Kobe that killed over 5,000 and left 300,000 homeless and which was followed in the same year by a religious cult's release of nerve gas in the Tokyo subway.

The Japanese have done more than survive disasters – they have learned from them. Today Hiroshima stands witness to every nuclear test, recording every step the world takes towards nuclear destruction. Without the disaster prevention measures that were taken after the Kobe earthquake, the toll from the 2011 catastrophe would have been even higher.

World War II devastated Japan. By August 1945, three million Japanese were dead. A quarter of the country's wealth and nearly half of its potential income had been annihilated by Allied bombing. Nearly two-thirds of all homes in Tokyo were destroyed and at least nine million people were homeless. Yet, by 1968 Japan's economy had grown into the second largest in the world.

Most observers take this and other evidence of Japan's remarkable resilience, as reason for optimism. If Japan could be reborn after being brought to her knees by war, how much more likely is she to do it again as a vibrant modern nation? Despite this phoenix-like attribute, we should not underestimate the scale of the problems that lie ahead. Also, we should remember that Japan had help in the past.

After the war, the US took the view that Japan's economic recovery was necessary to stabilise the nation and keep the communists at bay. Some US$2 billion in economic assistance helped set Japan on a spectacular economic recovery and subsequent rise to power.

Within days of the 2011 catastrophe, 128 countries and 33 international organisations had offered assistance to Japan. Aid organisations both in Japan and worldwide also responded, with the Japanese Red Cross reporting $US1 billion in donations. The Australian Government immediately donated $A10 million to the Japan Red Cross and Pacific Disaster Appeal. Many major Australian corporations and private citizens have donated millions of dollars to charities to help Japan. Australian private companies were also directly involved in the recovery program, helping to restore telecommunications and transporting relief supplies and equipment.

Japan is important to Australia both economically and strategically. She has contributed to Australia's economic prosperity in the past and she is still an important trade partner. In 1957 a cooperative agreement between the two nations gave Australia a leg-up, economically speaking, in the Asia-Pacific region. Japan became Australia's key export destination – a role she held until she was recently overtaken by China. Japan and Australia have also strengthened political and security cooperation, which has made them strategic partners in the Asia-Pacific region.

Disasters can serve as catalysts in Japan. Seiichiro Yonekura, professor of innovation at Hitotsubashi University, has suggested that the earthquake that levelled Tokyo (then called Edo) in 1855 marked the beginning of the end of more than two centuries of isolation. Another quake in 1891 prompted Japan to question its Meiji-era adoption of Western influences when many of the European-style brick buildings fell down. In 1923, says the professor, the Great Kanto Earthquake helped spark a political crisis that ultimately led to militarism and the Second World War.

Rebuilding Japan will require overcoming economic, financial and political problems in a world of shifting global power. The central Japanese government has been weak and ineffective. The strength and commitment shown by local communities as they deal with the fallout of the recent catastrophe, as well as other, more longstanding problems, suggests the answer may lie in the decentralisation of power. Japan's regions might successfully manage their own economies for the benefit of all, if given the chance. These economies are not small. Tohoku, for example, has a GDP the size of Argentina's while Kyushu's economy is the same as Norway's. Perhaps the 2011 triple catastrophe will prove to be the catalyst that sparks Japan's most dramatic rebirth yet.

Any visitor to Japan cannot help but be moved by the dignity and pride of the people in the face of adversity. Modern Hiroshima celebrates the human capacity to overcome unfathomable tragedy. A common reaction to the 2011 disaster has been the belief, and the hope, that if any country could rise above such a body blow, it would be Japan. This may be so but she will need help. As much as we admire their resilience and their spirit, we cannot leave the Japanese to bear such a burden alone. Japan may take this opportunity to sweep away bureaucratic stagnation and revitalise the nation. The elements are there; it is up to us to provide help and support and to be there for the long haul. We owe it to her as a friend.