Beyond Nuclear International
Du théâtre pour Fukushima : des voix dans le silence
Les émotions nues de la catastrophe nucléaire de Fukushima telle que vécue par les enfants
Par Carmen Grau
Le 11 mars 2011, où étais-tu et que faisais-tu ?
Huit ans ont passé et les enfants alors âgés de six, sept et huit ans sont aujourd’hui des lycéens qui s’expriment par le théâtre. Ils jouent la comédie pour raconter et rappeler ce qu’était leur ville. Et aussi pour s’approprier l’expérience de la catastrophe qui a changé la physionomie de toute une région.
Nature morte est une pièce de théâtre dont les protagonistes sont six filles et six garçons du lycée public Futaba Futur de Fukushima. Âgés de quinze, seize et dix-sept ans, ils interprètent des rôles qui pourraient être les leurs. Ils racontent comment les enfants qu’ils étaient ont vécu cette journée, dévoilant la trame complexe de sentiments qui les accompagnent jusqu’à la fin de l’adolescence. L’amour, la jeunesse et le suicide s’entremêlent sous le regard pur des jeunes, alors enfants, frappés par le triple désastre. Leur génération est la plus jeune et, par conséquent, la dernière, qui gardera ce souvenir. Pour eux, c’est important d’en parler.
La mer devenue marron. Un uniforme abandonné dans une école fermée précipitamment à cause des radiations. Un ours en peluche au cœur brisé et un téléphone qui n’arrête pas de sonner, à la recherche des grands-parents. Des lampadaires chancelants dans une rue qui monte pendant que les enfants se rassemblent, obéissant aux instructions des plus grands qui leur ont dit de ne pas rester seuls. Jouer innocemment dans une pièce avec de l’eau et du sable amenés là par le séisme et tout nettoyer avant de se mettre à l’abri. Dormir avec toute la famille dans la voiture parce qu’il n’y a plus de place dans le gymnase. Souvenirs d’un tremblement de terre, d’un tsunami, de la radiation et aussi de la peur des opérations de décontamination.
Teatro para Fukushima: voces desde el silencio
Las emociones desnudas del desastre nuclear de Fukushima como lo experimentaron los niños
Por Carmen Grau
Aquel 11 de marzo, ¿dónde y qué estabas haciendo?
Han pasado ocho años y los que entonces eran niños de seis, siete y ochos años son ahora estudiantes de instituto que se expresan a través del teatro. Interpretan y lo hacen para contar y recordar sus ciudades. También para asimilar la experiencia que ha cambiado la fisonomía de toda una región.
Naturaleza muerta es la obra teatral protagonizada por seis chicas y seis chicos del instituto público Futaba Futuro de Fukushima. Tienen quince, dieciséis y diecisiete años y representan papeles que podrían ser los propios. Actúan y narran cómo los niños vivieron aquel día, mostrando la madeja de sentimientos que los envuelve hasta el fin de la adolescencia. El amor, la juventud y el suicidio se entremezclan con la mirada pura de los jóvenes, antaño niños, afectados por el triple desastre. Son la generación más joven y la última, por tanto, que guardará el recuerdo. Contarlo es importante para ellos.
El color marrón del mar. Un uniforme abandonado a toda prisa en una escuela clausurada por la radiación. Un osito de peluche con el corazón roto y un teléfono que no deja de sonar buscando a los abuelos. Postes de luz tambaleándose en una cuesta mientras los niños se repliegan juntos, recordando las directrices de los mayores de no quedarse solos. Jugar inocentemente en un aula con agua y arena derramadas por el temblor y limpiarlo antes de ponerse a salvo. Dormir con toda la familia en el coche porque ya no cabe nadie más en el gimnasio. Recuerdos de un terremoto, de un tsunami, de la radiación y también del miedo por la descontaminación.
Nukes and the bigger picture
Billions wasted on nuclear weapons could save the world’s children
By Kehkashan Basu
Kutupalong – a beautiful, lyrical name. It could possibly describe a flower, a river, or an exotic bird. In fact, it is none of these three. Its claim to fame or rather infamy comes from the fact that it is the world’s largest refugee camp. Not only is it the largest refugee camp on our planet, with a population of 1 million and counting, it is also the most densely populated. It took just six months to double in size when Rohingya refugees fled Myanmar, according to reports from the World Food Program. Tens of thousands of makeshift tents packed together on a hilly terrain, it offers refuge to over a million refugees.
A two-hour drive from Cox Bazaar in Bangladesh, Kutupalong was a sleepy unknown hamlet until a few years ago, when the Rohingya crisis escalated in neighboring Myanmar. On the ground the camp is sprawling, chaotic, and unimaginably crowded. If you were looking for a definition of misery, this is it!
I spent last Christmas with my team at this camp engaging with hundreds of Rohingya children, soaking in the latent energy they possessed and trying to be the catalyst that would ignite their passion into a meaningful avenue of growth and development. For these children, every day is a struggle for survival. Sanitation and hygiene do not exist. It’s an unbelievably moving sight which no words or pictures can describe.
Dying children could be saved with food or medication costing less than 1/10th of the cost of one Trident submarine. (Photo DFID)
Chernobyl has blown up twice
TV series success has pro-nukers panicking
By Linda Pentz Gunter
As we contemplate somewhat ruefully how someone heretofore best known for scripting The Hangover (parts 2 and 3) has managed to loft the truth about the Chernobyl nuclear disaster into the stratosphere, whilst we have slogged for decades to get the issue attention, there is some comfort to be had.
Yes, Chernobyl has blown up twice — first the reactor and now the eponymous 5-part HBO/Sky miniseries — and the nuclear industry and its pundits are absolutely freaking out. They have gone into Mega Propaganda Overdrive because the drama was so popular they are terrified that millions of people will now realize that nuclear power is Actually Dangerous.
The pro-nukers have even resorted to saying that the Chernobyl series is “fiction.” No one is calling two other recent dramas — Bohemian Rhapsody or Rocketman — fiction. Both films might have taken a little liberty with their subjects’ lives — rock stars Freddy Mercury and Elton John respectively— but these stories are not “fiction.” Chernobyl created a composite character out of many for Emily Watson to play, to streamline the action and lend clarity to the story. But Chernobyl wasn’t fiction, either. It was a dramatization of real events.
A race against time
Tilman Ruff’s life mission is to help rid the world of nuclear weapons
By Robert Fedele
In 2007, Associate Professor Tilman Ruff and a small group of antinuclear activists founded the International Campaign to Abolish Nuclear Weapons (ICAN) in Melbourne. In 2017, the global nongovernmental organisation captured the first Nobel Peace Prize born in Australia after years drawing attention to the catastrophic humanitarian consequences of nuclear weapons and driving a historic UN prohibition treaty. In June 2019, Ruff, and fellow ICAN co-founder, Dimity Hawkins, were awarded Order of Australia Honours for their advocacy on nuclear disarmament.
Tilman Ruff’s life’s mission to help end nuclear weapons traces back to growing up in Melbourne in the 1980s living with the genuine fear that nuclear war could strike at any moment.
His family background passed on a profound awareness of the impacts of war.
“My family were German Christians living in communities in Palestine,” Professor Ruff explains. “My great grandparents married there. They were in turn displaced, imprisoned, and quite a few of them were killed in both World Wars and then brought to Australia as prisoners and locked up until 1947.
“So the indiscriminate trauma, loss, madness and horror of war and its terrible legacy across generations was something I heard from my grandmothers and my old people all the time.”
ICAN was born in Australia. Two of its founders, Tilman Ruff (left) and Dimity Hawkins, shared the Nobel Peace Prize. (Photo: ICAN Australia Twitter)
Executed for being an anti-nuclear activist
The incredible unknown story of “nuclear martyr” Nikos Nikiforidis
On March 5, 1951, 22-year-old Nikos Nikiforidis was executed in Greece because he was promoting the Stockholm Antinuclear Appeal (1950). Honoring his death, Greek IPPNW and PADOP organized an event this March in Athens to commemorate him and his courage. Below is an amalgamation of two presentations given about Nikiforidis at that event.
By Maria Arvaniti Sotiropoulou and Panos Trigazis
Under present conditions, it seems inconceivable that a 22-year-old fighter for the anti-nuclear movement was arrested, sentenced to death by court martial and executed in Thessaloniki, on a charge of collecting signatures under the Stockholm Appeal for the abolition and prohibition of all nuclear weapons. But Nikos Nikiforidis was the first person (and perhaps also the only one) in the world to suffer such a fate.
At that time, the cold war was at its height on the international stage, and Greece was geographically on the border of the two worlds, the prevailing doctrine of its foreign policy being the “threat from the north”.
The Stockholm Appeal was adopted on March 15, 1950 by a world peace conference and accompanied by a campaign that collected more than 50 million signatures worldwide. Below is the text of the Appeal:
“We demand the outlawing of atomic weapons as instruments of intimidation and mass murder of peoples. We demand strict international control to enforce this measure.
“We believe that any government which first uses atomic weapons against any other country whatsoever will be committing a crime against humanity and should be dealt with as a war criminal.
“We call on all men and women of goodwill throughout the world to sign this appeal.”
Beyond Nuclear International 