In February this year, I was on a Shinkansen bullet train heading from Tokyo towards Osaka. Through the window, I saw Mount Fuji, dusted with snow. This vision of the mountain, illuminated by the setting sun, was so beautiful that I couldn't help but talk to the foreign woman sitting next to me, "That's Mount Fuji." She was visiting Japan from India with her family. She told me they were going to stay overnight in Kyoto and then continue their journey to Hiroshima afterwards.
　　When I asked, "Why Hiroshima?" she replied that her purpose was to visit the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum. With some hesitation, I asked her, "What do you think about India possessing nuclear weapons?" Her answer was, "There is no problem with possessing nuclear weapons as such. Most countries have them, don't they? The issue is not to use them."

The minority’s advocacy of 'nuclear deterrence'

In reality, the claim that "most countries possess nuclear weapons" is factually incorrect. Currently, nine countries possess nuclear weapons: the five nuclear-weapon states defined by the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons (NPT)—the United States, Russia, the United Kingdom, France, and China—as well as non-NPT states Israel, India, Pakistan, and North Korea, which has unilaterally withdrawn from the treaty. In addition, there are 34 countries, including Japan, which rely on the security guarantees of nuclear-weapon states, often referred to as being under a 'nuclear umbrella'. Given that the world has around 200 countries, the total number of nuclear-armed and nuclear-reliant countries (43 in total) remains a minority globally although they include those with the most power and the majority of the world's population.
　　These countries adopt a strategy called 'nuclear deterrence', where the threat of nuclear weapon use is intended to deter an enemy's attack. However, the reality of the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki reveals the horrific consequences of nuclear weapon use: these weapons indiscriminately kill large numbers of people, and atomic bomb survivors - referred to in Japanese as 'Hibakusha' - suffer from longterm health effects and discrimination. Even if nuclear-armed states do not intentionally use these weapons, accidental detonations could have impacts spreading across borders.
　　In other words, for the vast majority of countries that do not adopt a nuclear deterrence strategy, nuclear weapons are not a means of security but a threat to the lives of their own citizens.

The Humanitarian Initiative

Around 2010, a small group of leading disarmament diplomats, researchers, and NGO experts began to re-frame the discourse on nuclear weapons by focusing on the humanitarian consequences. This approach later became widely known as the 'humanitarian Initiative'.
　　This approach challenged the existing order established by the nuclear-armed states and generated significant momentum. On this basis, seven years later, the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons (TPNW) was adopted by a United Nations conference (by a vote of 122 States in favor, with one vote against and one abstention, among those that attended the conference) on 7 July 2017 and came into force on 22 January 2021.

Preserving the memories of the hibakusha's experiences

As a journalist, I have followed this process and covered the commitment of hibakusha speaking out about their experiences at international conferences. One such hibakusha is 81-year-old Masako Wada, Assistant Secretary General of the Japan Confederation of A- and H-Bomb Sufferers Organizations (Nihon Hidankyo).
　　Wada was 1 year and 10 months old at the time of the bombing, and she shares her testimony based on stories she has heard from her mother. Their home was sheltered in the shadow of a mountain, so the family survived, but many people with burns all over their bodies sought refuge nearby. Furthermore, the vacant lot next to their home was used as a cremation site for bodies.
　　I interviewed Wada for the first time in 2016. Not being familiar with Nagasaki at that time, even when she told me that her home was 2.9 kilometres from the hypocentre, I struggled to imagine the reality of that location. When I was assigned to the NHK Nagasaki Broadcasting Station last September and met Wada again earlier this year, I asked her about her home's location. She told me, "It's Imahakata-machi in Nagasaki. You can see it from your apartment balcony."
　　The 'cremation ground' Wada described has now become a park where children play. How many people must have suffered and died there 80 years ago in this peaceful place? Without those who pass on these stories or preserve records, the humanitarian tragedy will soon be forgotten and, within just a few decades, effectively erased from memory. Even as someone who has been covering nuclear issues carefully, I was confronted with the reality that I still know very little.

As global citizens, let us work together

As of March 2025, there are 99,130 hibakusha from Hiroshima and Nagasaki living in Japan (source: Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare), with an average age of 86.13 years. Some hibakusha, like Wada, who were very young at the time, have no memory of the events and others have difficulty communicating today. While the number of hibakusha is declining due to ageing, there are still as many as 99,130 alive today. It is our mission to record and pass on their testimonies and thoughts until the very last hibakusha has gone. Since it was human beings who created nuclear weapons, it must also be human beings who can put an end to them. Humanity must have the wisdom to do so, and we need to continue to draw on that wisdom as long as we live. And at the heart of discussions on nuclear weapons should always be the reality of what the hibakusha endured.
　　Watching news of ongoing military clashes between nuclear-armed India and Pakistan in May reminded me of the conversation I had with the Indian tourist on the Shinkansen. I wonder what she felt after visiting the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum. Having encountered the reality of the atomic bombing in Hiroshima, how will she now cope with the continued existence of nuclear weapons? As members of the global community, I can only hope that we can join forces to think about what kind of world we should try to create together.