Ghost Leviathan posted:

The real fun there is the theories that Japanese doomsday cult tested a nuke in the outback and no one officially noticed.

quote:

Aum Shinrikyo was a Japanese doomsday cult responsible for a range of criminal and terrorist acts. In April 1993, when Kiyohide Hayakawa, deputy leader of the Aum,[5] arrived in Western Australia, Aum Shinrikyo purchased Banjawarn and built a facility there. Hayakawa had come in search of areas suitable for uranium mining. In his notes, he also praised the high quality of uranium ore

Nessus posted:

isn't it generally agreed that the Israelis and South Africa teamed up on a test in the southern ocean at some point?

RFC2324 posted:

how much of this is like tech, where its the same people just now with a new gender.

it would make sense given that tech is where history majors go to make money

Defenestrategy posted:

For post WW2 is there a common agreement on what sorts of civilian infrastructure/commerce is open season as far as what is considered legitimate targets? I know the practical answer is: what ever so long as you are in a position to never be arrested for crimes against humanity, but from a "legalistic" standpoint.

Alchenar posted:

e: the only thing that really changes post ww2 are rules around nuclear facilities and the practical elements of trying to enforce a blockade become really difficult

quote:

This book is the product of over a decade of research, and involved a comprehensive review of nearly every primary source of relevance that I could get my hands on. It is an "atomic biography" of President Harry Truman, covering his entire administration, from the death of Franklin D. Roosevelt in April 1945, through Truman's last day as president in January 1953. (It also extends a little before and after these dates, of course, both to set up the context, and to compare Truman a bit with Eisenhower.) It is laser-focused on the question of the atomic bomb and how Truman, as an individual who found himself (to his own continual astonishment) suddenly put into a position of extreme responsibility and power, thought about it, felt about it, and intervened personally in the creation of early US nuclear policy.

My conclusions in the book are, I think, somewhat radical. I dislike the term "revisionist," but the book definitely is an attempt to revise our understanding of Truman and the bomb. My essential conclusion is that Truman was perhaps the most anti-nuclear US president of the 20th century: that he felt a deep antipathy and even horror about the atomic bomb, and that he associated it almost exclusively with the "murder" and "slaughter" of civilians ("women and children," as he put it). This expressed itself in different ways during his administration, but was a core element in his involvement with many early atomic policy decisions, including the centralization of the power to order the use of the atomic bomb in the person of the president (which was done to prevent the use of atomic weapons, not enable them), the championing of a civilian control of nuclear weapons production (and an explicit rejection of attempts by the military to gain even physical "custody" over the weapons), and, above all, a powerful moral aversion to the idea that the US should ever use nuclear weapons again, even during the time in which no "deterrence" conditions held.

There is an obvious paradox here: if he's so anti-nuclear, why'd he order the use of the atomic bombs? The short version of this is that he didn't order them used in the way most people think — he simply did not "interfere" with plans already underway. The long version of it, which the book spends about 1/3rd of its total page count looking at in detail (with lots of citations, discussions of sources, etc.!), is that I believe it more likely than not that Truman did not understand what the "plans already underway" were. That, in fact, Truman believed that the first use of the atomic bomb was going to be against a "purely military target," a military base (not a city with a military base in it) and that "women and children" would not be harmed by the attack. I also do not believe he understood that two atomic bombs would be used in quick succession (the schedule he was given was only for the availability of the implosion design, and implied there would be some time before the next bomb was available), and that he was not aware of the attack on Nagasaki until after the fact. Once he learned of all of these things, he ordered that the atomic bombing be stopped, and told his cabinet it was because the idea of killing "another 100,000 people was too horrible," and that he was disturbed by killing "all those kids."

In public, of course, he defended the bombings, and claimed he had a clear conscience — but there are many reasons (again, in the book!) to treat this with skepticism, and a manifestation of his self-imposed need to "protect" the reputation of the United States. From the day after Nagasaki onwards, Truman acted like someone who was horrified of atomic bombs, greatly disturbed by the attacks on Japan, and deeply distrustful of letting the military ever dictate atomic policy again. And so the rest of the book is about how that played out on issues such as domestic control of atomic energy, international control of atomic energy, the Berlin airlift, the Soviet detonation of an atomic bomb, the hydrogen bomb debate, and, in its last part, the Korean War, and the non-use of nuclear weapons during the latter.

This is not "great man" history: Truman happened to be in a place of unusual influence and power with regards to the atomic bomb, because its newness and "spectacular" nature allowed for a new sort of politics to emerge around it, and Truman put himself at the center of that. But even he was limited by the politics and tenor of his times, and the book is in some sense a meditation on what the limits are for even powerful individuals in influencing the direction of history. And, ultimately, while I think Truman had many virtues, he was (by his own admission), just a human being, full of human foibles.

So this is not a "Truman is great" book. But it is a "Truman is more complicated than either his supporters or his detractors believe" book — "my" Truman is one who will probably annoy both "camps" to varying degrees. But I do think it significantly changes the narrative we use for thinking about the atomic bombs during World War II, and the important early period of the Cold War where many ideas about the bomb became "codified" for the first time.

And if you find the above hard to believe without a lot of evidence... that's what the book is for! It is incredibly hard to be persuaded of something counterintuitive, and against the prevailing narratives, in a short amount of time/space, without the ability to cite a lot of evidence. Hence my writing an entire book on the subject. So if you're skeptical, but interested... perhaps you should check it out!

mllaneza posted:

If you feel bad about cross-posting, don't. The second post got me to actually pre-order. Winter break mllaneza thanks you in advance.

quote:

How does it seem that Truman was able to rectify his apparent horror at the atomic bombings with his seeming lack of regard to the firebombing campaign? Or does it seem like he never associated the two together in his mind?

quote:
This is a really good question, and one I talk about at some length in the book.

First, it is clear that he never regarded the firebombing thing as a "choice" to be made. It was a policy initiated by the military as an operational tactic (not a "political" decision) during FDR's administration, and nobody ever consulted either FDR or Truman about it (or even asked them about the tactics). The only person in the entire administration who seemed slightly interested in inquiring whether this was a good idea was Stimson, and even he reserved his approach to basically "just asking questions" -- even when he talked to Truman about his unease, he never asked Truman to actually do anything or make a decision.

This is interesting for a lot of reasons, but one of them is about the question of, "what is the distinction between military and civilian/political decisions?" During WWII, the Secretary of War did not intervene on operational or tactical questions -- he was mostly in charge of logistics and financing and domestic policy (conscription, contracts, etc.). (The interventionist Secretary of Defense is basically only a "thing" from McNamara onward.) The military treated firebombing as just an evolution of existing policy (which it both was and wasn't), and the political side of things (and the media!!!) went along with this distinction for the most part. And this includes both Roosevelt and Truman.

The atomic bomb is interesting in that its development was something initiated by civilians, and they had more oversight and interest in how it was used, and framed it not as a "weapon" but as some kind of new era in human history which, if bungled, would destroy civilization. And -- note -- the person who did the most to frame it this way in high-level discussions was... Stimson! The same guy who was uneasy about the firebombings thing. So there is an important overlap there, where Stimson very clearly was "choosing his battles."

Truman was perfectly adopting of this approach, that the atomic bomb was something "special" and different, something that challenged the traditional ideas of how things worked. (During the war, again, I don't think he implemented this distinction very well, because I don't think he understood the plans very well. But after the war, he asserted himself on this issue.)

Even well after the war, at the end of his presidency, Truman repeatedly asserted that nuclear weapons were in an entirely different category even from other weapons of mass destruction -- that the atomic bomb "is far worse than gas and biological warfare because it affects the civilian population and murders them by the wholesale," which he wrote on his final day in office in a private letter.

Now, we in retrospect can ask, well, is it so different? From either gas and biological weapons, or just old-fashioned napalm? And we could hash out different arguments pro or con the "special" argument. But I think the historical point here is that Truman clearly saw the atomic bomb as "special" and he also just as clearly did not see the firebombings as "special."

TheFluff posted:

Cross-posting from the Cold War thread because I figure it's interesting to a general milhist crowd as well and there's not a 100% overlap between the two threads. It's maybe not milhist milhist but I figure civilian control over the military is definitely relevant here.

Anyway, Alex Wellerstein did an AMA on r/AskHistorians earlier today (the only part of reddit that is maybe not entirely garbage) and summarizes his new book, The Most Awful Responsibility: Truman and the Secret Struggle for Control of the Atomic Age, like this (bolding is mine):

Most of this is probably not news to those who have read Wellerstein's writings before (and especially not if you've already read his 2020 paper The Kyoto Misconception), but the whole Q&A thread is interesting and worth a look IMO. Among other things he recommends the recently released book Strange Stability: How Cold War Scientists Set Out to Control the Arms Race and Ended Up Serving the Military-Industrial Complex which I wasn't aware of but will have to check out.

Wellerstein's book releases December 9, and I'm really looking forward to it. Wellerstein is a great writer who manages to combine rigorous academic history writing with a narrative that keeps your interest and is downright enjoyable to read. You get to have both the fun and the footnotes!

Peggotty posted:

Consider me "skeptical but interested", as he put it.

Safety Biscuits posted:

Towards the end of WWI or WWII, it must have been obvious that the victorious armed forces didn't need new recruits. How did countries go from recruiting as many people as possible to saying no? Would it have been possible for a young British or American man to join up in, say, June 1945? What about the losing sides? Was Germany still recruiting lads in November 1918?

Safety Biscuits posted:

Towards the end of WWI or WWII, it must have been obvious that the victorious armed forces didn't need new recruits. How did countries go from recruiting as many people as possible to saying no? Would it have been possible for a young British or American man to join up in, say, June 1945? What about the losing sides? Was Germany still recruiting lads in November 1918?

Gnoman posted:

Your premises are faulty.

During the World Wars, all sides relied heavily on conscription because volunteers simply were not available in the vast numbers needed. Dealing with lowered manpower needs would be done by simply calling up fewer conscripts. Volunteers were always valuable because they tended to be more likely to Stay In. The only times militaries turn away willing recruits isnif they're already full to the absolute brim with people that are going to stay.

quote:

In the European Theater of WWII, it wasn't over until Berlin itself fell, and even then it wasn't quite clear that the war wouldn't linger on. There was very real expectation that some military forces would refuse to surrender, and that a widespread partisan campaign would need putting down. In either case, large amounts of troops would remain critical. By the time it was clear that wouldn't happen, the military still needed people because most of the Boys Who Won The War had gone home.

In the Pacific, of course, troops were massing for the invasion of the Home Islands when Hirohito announced unconditional surrender. At which point the same issues of occupation arose.

Farmer Crack-rear end posted:

Back in the age of sail, for ships sent on long-distance voyages, how long was one typically overdue for before being presumed lost? And were there ships presumed lost that eventually turned up?

Farmer Crack-rear end posted:

Back in the age of sail, for ships sent on long-distance voyages, how long was one typically overdue for before being presumed lost? And were there ships presumed lost that eventually turned up?

Captain Joseph Conrad "The Mirror of the Sea" posted:

Often I turn with melancholy eagerness to the space reserved in the newspapers under the general heading of “Shipping Intelligence.” I meet there the names of ships I have known. Every year some of these names disappear—the names of old friends. “Tempi passati!”

The different divisions of that kind of news are set down in their order, which varies but slightly in its arrangement of concise headlines. And first comes “Speakings”—reports of ships met and signalled at sea, name, port, where from, where bound for, so many days out, ending frequently with the words “All well.” Then come “Wrecks and Casualties”—a longish array of paragraphs, unless the weather has been fair and clear, and friendly to ships all over the world. On some days there appears the heading “Overdue”—an ominous threat of loss and sorrow trembling yet in the balance of fate.

There is something sinister to a seaman in the very grouping of the letters which form this word, clear in its meaning, and seldom threatening in vain. Only a very few days more—appallingly few to the hearts which had set themselves bravely to hope against hope—three weeks, a month later, perhaps, the name of ships under the blight of the “Overdue” heading shall appear again in the column of “Shipping Intelligence,” but under the final declaration of “Missing.”

“The ship, or barque, or brig So-and-so, bound from such a port, with such and such cargo, for such another port, having left at such and such a date, last spoken at sea on such a day, and never having been heard of since, was posted to-day as missing.” Such in its strictly official eloquence is the form of funeral orations on ships that, perhaps wearied with a long struggle, or in some unguarded moment that may come to the readiest of us, had let themselves be overwhelmed by a sudden blow from the enemy.

quote:

But if the word “missing” brings all hope to an end and settles the loss of the underwriters, the word “overdue” confirms the fears already born in many homes ashore, and opens the door of speculation in the market of risks. Maritime risks, be it understood.

There is a class of optimists ready to reinsure an “overdue” ship at a heavy premium. But nothing can insure the hearts on shore against the bitterness of waiting for the worst. For if a “missing” ship has never turned up within the memory of seamen of my generation, the name of an “overdue” ship, trembling as it were on the edge of the fatal heading, has been known to appear as “arrived.”

It must blaze up, indeed, with a great brilliance the dull printer’s ink expended on the assemblage of the few letters that form the ship’s name to the anxious eyes scanning the page in fear and trembling. It is like the message of reprieve from the sentence of sorrow suspended over many a home, even if some of the men in her have been the most homeless mortals that you may find among the wanderers of the sea.

The reinsurer, the optimist of ill-luck and disaster, slaps his pocket with satisfaction. The underwriter, who had been trying to minimize the amount of impending loss, regrets his premature pessimism. The ship has been stauncher, the skies more merciful, the seas less angry, or perhaps the men on board of a finer temper than he has been willing to take for granted.

“The ship So-and-so, bound to such a port, and posted as ‘overdue,’ has been reported yesterday as having arrived safely at her destination.” Thus run the official words of the reprieve addressed to the hearts ashore lying under a heavy sentence. And they come swiftly from the other side of the earth, over wires and cables, for your electric telegraph is a great alleviator of anxiety. Details, of course, shall follow. And they may unfold a tale of narrow escape, of steady ill-luck, of high winds and heavy weather, of ice, of interminable calms or endless head-gales; a tale of difficulties overcome, of adversity defied by a small knot of men upon the great loneliness of the sea; a tale of resource, of courage—of helplessness, perhaps.

Teriyaki Hairpiece posted:

Vahakyla posted:

I was genuinely surprised that Japanese hospital ships in WW2 went relatively unscathed.

US Navy even boarded some for inspection, like the one headed to Wake Island, then let them go.

TooMuchAbstraction posted:

IIRC there's also an argument that in the immediate term, having a bunch of sick/injured people to take care of decreases the enemy's ability to fight.

Fangz posted:

I don't think it's much of a strategic decision. A lot of these come down to the knee jerk decisions of individual pilots and captains.

Alchenar posted:

I don't think there's a war crime Japan didn't try to commit during WW2. In fact other than the industrialised slaughter of the holocaust pretty much anything the Nazis did, Imperial Japan probably did worse. They're not exactly let off the hook in Western histories, but there's definitely a disproportionate focus on the Nazis because all that happened in Europe.

Alchenar posted:

I don't think there's a war crime Japan didn't try to commit during WW2. In fact other than the industrialised slaughter of the holocaust pretty much anything the Nazis did, Imperial Japan probably did worse. They're not exactly let off the hook in Western histories, but there's definitely a disproportionate focus on the Nazis because all that happened in Europe.