The Asia-Pacific Journal | Japan Focus Volume 14 | Issue 21 | Number 2 | Article ID 4970 | Nov 01, 2016

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Fukushima: A Second Chernobyl?

Arkadiusz Podniesiński

With an introduction by David McNeill

Waiting for the Future in Fukushima

As the sixth anniversary of the Fukushimanuclear disaster approaches, the area aroundthe hulking corpse of the Fukushima DaiichiNuclear Power Plant continues to exude ahorrible fascination. Arkadiusz Podniesinski isone of thousands of photographers andjournalists drawn there since the crisis beganin March 2011. In 2015 his first photo reportfrom the area attracted millions of viewsaround the world.

Podniesinski brought to Japan his experience ofchronicling the aftermath of the world’s worstnuclear accident in Chernobyl, which he firstvisited in 2008. It was, he noted, people, nottechnology that was responsible for bothdisasters. Japanese politicians, he adds, areoffended by comparisons with Chernobyl. Still,rarely for a foreign report on Fukushima, hiswork was picked up by Japanese television (onthe liberal channel TBS), suggesting there is ahunger for this comparative perspective.

Podniesinski’s first trip strengthened his beliefin the “catastrophic consequences of nucleardisasters.” Apart from the suffering caused bythe disruption of so many lives (160,000 peopleremain homeless or displaced), there is thestruggle to return contaminated cities andtowns to a state where people can live in themagain. Billions of dollars have already beenspent on this cleanup and much more is tocome: The latest rehabilitation plan by plantoperator Tokyo Electric Power Co. puts thetotal bill for compensation alone at 7.08 trillion

yen, or nearly $60 billion.

Thirty years after Chernobyl’s reactorexploded, Ukrainians have long come to termswith the tragedy that befell them, he writes.The dead and injured have been forgotten. A 2-billion-Euro sarcophagus covering the damagedreactor is nearly complete. The media returnsto the story only on major anniversaries. What,he wonders, will become of Fukushima? Lastyear, Naraha became the first town inFukushima Prefecture to completely lift anevacuation order imposed after the triplemeltdown. But despite rebuilding much of thetown’s infrastructure and spending millions ofdollars to reduce radiation, the local authoritieshave persuaded only a small number of peopleto permanently return there.

Radiation is only part of the problem, of course.“The evacuees worry about the lack of schools,hospitals and shops,” says Podniesinski. “Aboutthe public infrastructure, which has not beensufficiently rebuilt. It must be adapted to theneeds of older people, who, after the departureof so many young people from the zone, willnow be the majority. However, the evacueesare most afraid of loneliness, as few of theirfamily members, friends and neighbors havedecided to return.”

The sense of life suspended, of waiting for thefuture to arrive, resonates in Tomioka, oncehome to nearly 16,000 people, now a ghosttown. Podniesinski arrives just as its famouscheery blossoms bloom, but there is nobody tosee them. The irony of fate, he writes, means

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that this Japanese symbol of new, nascent lifeblooms in contaminated and lifeless streets.“Will the city and its residents be reborn?Undoubtedly, the last word shall belong tothem alone.” DM

Fukushima: A Second Chernobyl?

Exactly a year has passed since my first visit toFukushima. A visit which strengthened mybelief of how catastrophic the consequences ofnuclear disasters can be. A visit that alsohighlighted how great the human and financialefforts to return contaminated and destroyedcities to a state suitable for re-habitation canbe.

The report on the Fukushima zone through theeyes of a person who knows and regularly visitsChernobyl received a great deal of interest inthe international community. Viewed severalmillion times and soon picked up by traditionalmedia around the world, it became for amoment the most important topic onFukushima. I was most pleased, however, bythe news that the coverage also reached Japan,where it not only caused quite a stir (more onthat another time) but also made me realisejust how miniscule Japanese knowledge aboutthe current situation in Fukushima is.

As a result, over the last year I started to go toFukushima more often than to Chernobyl. Thisis hardly surprising for another reason. 30years have passed since the Chernobyl disaster,so the majority of Ukrainians have long sincecome to terms with the tragedy. The dead andinjured have been forgotten. The same is truefor media interest, which is only revived on theoccasion of the round, 30th anniversary of thedisaster. In addition, after nearly 10 years and2 billion euros, work on the new sarcophagus isfinally coming to an end, and soon a storagesite for radioactive waste and a 227-haradiological biosphere reserve will beestablished.

Will the decommissioning of the power plant in

Fukushima also take 30 years and end with theconstruction of a sarcophagus? Will thecontaminated and deserted towns locatedaround the destroyed Fukushima Daiichi powerplant be called ghost towns and resembleChernobyl’s Pripyat? Finally, will Fukushimabecome a popular place for dark tourism likeChernobyl and be visited by thousands oftourists every year?

I Never Want to Return Alone

The Japanese, particularly politicians andofficials, do not like and are even offended bycomparisons between Fukushima andChernobyl. It is, however, difficult not to do sowhen analogies are visible everywhere. Whilethe fact that the direct causes of the disastersare different, the result is almost identical. Atragedy for the hundreds of thousands ofevacuated residents, hundreds of thousands ofhectares of land contaminated, and decades oftime and billions of dollars devoted toeliminating the results of the disaster. And thefirst cases of thyroid cancer.

The situation in Fukushima resembles a fightagainst time or a test of strength. Thegovernment has devoted billions of dollars todecontaminating the area and restoringresidents to their homes. They must hurrybefore the residents completely lose hope orthe desire to return. Before the houses collapseor people are too old to return to. In addition,the authorities soon intend to stop thecompensation paid to residents, whichaccording to many of them will be an evenmore effective “encouragement” for them toreturn. Deprived of financial support, manyresidents will have no other choice but toreturn. Many young families are not waiting forany government assistance. They decided longago to leave in search of a new life free ofradioactive isotopes. They will surely neverreturn.

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Landfill bags with contaminated soil inTomiokaDecontamination of personal possessions

But radiation is not the only problem that theauthorities must worry about. The evacuatedresidents worry about the lack of schools,hospitals and shops. About the publicinfrastructure, which has not been sufficientlyrebuilt. It must be adapted to the needs of olderpeople, who, after the departure of so manyyoung people from the zone, will now be themajority. However, the evacuees are mostafraid of loneliness, as few of their familymembers, friends and neighbours have decidedto return.

Deserted streets in the town of Okuma,closest to the destroyed power plant

Can the authorities manage to convince theresidents to return? Has critical mass beenexceeded, after which evacuees will learn fromothers and return? The authorities are doingeverything they can to convince residents thatthe sites are safe for people. They open towns,roads and railway stations one after another.Unfortunately, despite this, residents still donot want to return. A recent survey confirmsthat there is a huge gap between thegovernment’s current policies and the will ofthe affected residents. Only 17.8% want toreturn, 31.5% are unsure and 48% never intendto return.

It Became Chernobyl Here

During my first visit to Fukushima, I met NaotoMatsumura, who defied official bans andreturned to the closed zone to take care of theanimals abandoned there by farmers fleeingradiation. Matsumura has taken in hundreds ofanimals, saving them from inevitable death bystarvation or at the hands of the mercilessofficials forcing farmers to agree to kill them.Thanks to his courage and sacri f ice,Matsumura soon became known as theGuardian of Fukushima’s Animals.

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Matsumura was not able to help all of theanimals, however. According to the farmer, athird of them died of thirst, unable to breakfree of the metal beams in barns, woodenfences or ordinary kennels. Matsumura took meto one such place.

Naoto Matsumura on an abandoned farm

Not all appreciate Matsumura’s sacrifice andcourage. Many people believe that helpingthese animals, which sooner or later wouldhave ended up on a plate, is not worth the riskthe farmer is exposing himself to. Matsumuraalways has the same answer for them – there isa fundamental difference between killinganimals for food and killing animals who are nolonger needed due to radiation.

Cow Terrorist

I also returned to Masami Yoshizawa, who likeNaoto Matsumura decided to illegally return tothe closed zone to take care of the abandonedanimals. Shortly after the disaster, some of thefarmer’s cows began to develop mysteriouswhite spots on their skin. According toYoshizawa, they are the result of radioactivecontamination and the consumption ofradioactive feed.

Yoshizawa’s farm is located 14 km from thedestroyed power plant. From this distance, thebuildings of the plant are not visible, but itschimneys can be seen. And, as Yoshizawa says– one could also see [and hear] explosions inthe power plant as well as radioactive cloudsthat soon pass over his farm. Consequently,nearly half of the nearly 20,000 inhabitants ofthe town of Namie were evacuated toTsushima, located high in the nearbymountains. But soon people began to flee fromthere when it turned out that the wind blowingin that direction contaminated the area evenmore. As a resu l t o f the radioact ivecontamination in Fukushima, a new generationknown as the hibakusha has arisen. Up to now,this name was only given to people who werevictims of the atomic bombings of Hiroshimaand Nagasaki. Now this concept has also beenapplied to victims of the Fukushima nucleardisaster. As Yoshizawa says – of the 120surveyed hibakusha, he ranks third in Namie interms of the amount of radiation dosesreceived.

Defying the completely ignorant authorities,Yoshizawa quickly became a professionalactivist and his cows got a new mission – theybecame protestors. And, soon after, he broughtone of them in front of the Ministry ofAgriculture’s building, demanding thatresearch be undertaken to explain why whitespots have appeared on the animals’ skins afterthe disaster. Yoshizawa says, “I protested [by]bringing a bit of Fukushima to Tokyo. May thecows and I become living proof of the disaster,and the farm a chronicle telling the story of the

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Fukushima disaster.”

When protesting against the construction andre-starting of subsequent nuclear power plants,Yoshizawa does not bring his cows alonganymore. Instead, he has a car festooned withbanners that pulls behind it a small trailer witha metal model of a cow. “I have a strong voiceand can scream louder than die-hard rightwingers!” explains Yoshizawa. “I’m a cowboy, acow terrorist, a kamikaze!” he adds in a loudvoice, presenting an example of his capabilities.“We are not advocating violence, we don’t killpeople, we are not aggressive. We are politicalterrorists,” he concludes calmly. And after amoment, he invites us to a real protest. Theoccasion of the planned opening of the railwaystation is to be attended by Prime MinisterSinzo Abe himself.

Yoshizawa on his Farm of Hope. Theslogans on the auto read “Solidarity andready to die” and “TEPCO, government: wedemand compensation for our injustices!”

The protest goes peacefully indeed. Yoshizawafirst drives round the city to which the PrimeMinister is soon to arrive. Driving his car, heshouts into the microphone, “When a fire brokeout in the reactors, TEPCO employees fled. Thefire was extinguished by the young men of theJapanese Self-Defence Forces. Why were younot able to control the power plant you built?”

He continued immediately, “Today the PrimeMinister is coming here. Let’s get up and greetAbe. Let’s show Abe not only the beautifullyprepared railway station, let him also see thedark side of the city. For 40 years, we suppliedelectricity to Tokyo. Our region only couldsupport Japan’s economic development. Andnow we suffer. Tales about the safety of nuclearpower plants are a thing of the past,”Yoshizawa concludes. When the moment of thePrime Minister’s arrival approaches and thecrowds grow larger, policemen and the PrimeMinister’s security detail approach the farmer.They order him to take down his banners andleave the site. Yoshizawa obeys, but carries outtheir commands without haste. As i fdeliberately trying to prolong their presence,hoping to have time to meet and “greet” thePrime Minister.

Yoshizawa talks with the policeYoshizawa leaves the square under policeescort, which wants to make sure that the

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farmer will leave the city

Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abeleaving the railway station

No-go Zones

As always, a major part of my tr ip toFukushima is devoted to visits to no-go zones.Obtaining permission to enter and photographthe interior is still difficult and very time-consuming. However, it is nothing compared tothe search for owners of the abandonedproperties, persuade them to come, show theirhouses and discuss the tragic past.

Sometimes, however, it’s different. Such as inthe case of Tatsuo and Kazue Kogure, who withthe help of Japanese television agreed to takeme to Tomioka, where they ran a small butpopular bar. It was not only a place to eat and

drink sake, but also to sing karaoke with thebar’s owners.

Unfortunately the city, and with it the bar,stood in the way of the radioactive cloud andhad to be closed. Earlier, I saw many similarbars and restaurants. Overgrown, smelly, full ofmould, debris and scattered items. This place,however, is different. It is distinguished by itsowners, who despite age and the tragedy theyexperienced, did not give up and opened a newbar outside the radioactive zone. Mr and MrsKogure not only showed me the abandoned bar,but also invited me to their new one.

Kazue Kogure inside their abandoned barin TomiokaTatsuo and Kazue Kogure in their new barin Iwaki

What is unusual and extremely gratifying is the

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fact that the couple’s efforts to continue thefamily business are also supported by regularcustomers from the previous bar. “It’s thanksto their help that we could start all over again,”Kazue Kogure acknowledges. She immediatelyadds, “By opening the bar again we alsowanted to be an example to other evacuatedresidents. To show that it’s possible.”

The Scale of the Disaster Shocked Us

I also visit the former fire station located in theclosed zone in Tomioka. Due to the nuclearpower plant neighbouring the city, thefirefighters working here were regularlytrained in case of a variety of emergencies. Iam accompanied by Naoto Suzuki, a firefighterwho served here before the disaster. In themiddle of the firehouse, my attention is drawnto a large blackboard. “That’s the taskscheduler for March 2011,” the firefighterexplains. “On 11 March, the day of the disaster,we had nothing planned, but,” he adds with anironic smile, “the day before we had a trainingsession on responding to radioactivecontamination. We practised how to saveirradiated people and how to use dosimetersand conduct decontamination.”

Unfortunately, the reality shocked even thefirefighters, who had to cope with tasks theyhad never practised. For example, with coolingthe reactors. Even the repeatedly practisedevacuation procedures for the residents wereoften ineffective and resulted in the opposite ofthe desired effect. It turned out that the datafrom SPEEDI (System for Predict ingEnvironmental Emergency Dose Information),whose tasks included forecasting the spread ofradioactive substances, was useless and did notreach the local authorities. As a result, manyres idents were evacuated for morecontaminated sites and unnecessarilyendangered by the additional dose of radiation.

The monthly work schedule at the fire stationin Tomioka (no-go zone). Firefighter NaotoSuzuki shows the training session on how to

help people exposed to radiation planned forthe day before the disaster. A committeemeeting to provide information in the event of afire in the nuclear reactors was planned for 14March.

Firefighters’ dispatch. Local firefightingtasks in Tomioka were managed from here.

In the spring of this year, thanks to the helpand support of many people, particularly thelocal authorities, evacuated residents and evena monk, I was also able to see many interestingplaces mostly located in the closed zones inTomioka, Okuma, Futaba and Namie. Althoughfive years have passed since the disaster, mostof them still remain closed and many valuableobjects can still be found there. Due to this, Ihave decided not to publish information thatcould aid in locating them.

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Overturned shelves of rental video shopTemple

Izakaya BarRestaurant

Swimming pool complexMain pool

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Children’s bikes in the courtyard of thekindergartenSupermarket

SEGA arcade

HospitalClothing factory

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GymPachinko arcade

Kindergarten.The dosimeter reading here is 9.3 uSv/h.Children's school bags

SchoolSchool library

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Nighttime police patrol

Hope

Ending my series of travels around Fukushima,I return to Tomioka to see the thing for whichthe city is most famous and its residents mostproud – one of the longest and oldest cherryblossom tunnels in Japan. For the residents ofTomioka, cherry trees have always beensomething more than just a well-known touristattraction or the historic symbol of the town.Not only did they admire the aestheticattributes of the flowers, but they were alsopart of their lives, organised festivals, meetingsand the topic of family conversations.

The natural beauty and powerful symbolism aswell as their constant presence in Japanese artshave made cherry trees become an icon ofJapanese cultural identity. They signal thearrival of spring, the time for renewal and theemergence of new life. In the spiritual sense,they remind us of how beautiful, yet tragicallyshort and fragile, life is – just like the bloomingcherry blossoms that fall from the tree after

just a few days.

Entrance gate to the closed zone inTomioka

The nuclear irony of fate meant that thisJapanese symbol of new, nascent life todayblooms in the contaminated and lifeless streetsof Tomioka. Will the city and its residents bereborn, along with the cherry trees blossomingin solitude and silence? Undoubtedly, the lastword shall belong to them alone.

Main street with flowering cherry trees

Arkadiusz Podniesiński is a Polish photographer and filmmaker, a technical diver and agraduate of Oxford Brookes University in Great Britain. Since 2008, he has been continuouslyengaged in the photographic documentation of the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone, which he has

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visited dozens of times. His main pursuit is photographing places associated with disasters,conducting interviews with workers and the residents of the evacuated areas, as well asdocumenting the progress of the nuclear power plant’s liquidation and the building of the newsarcophagus. His other work on Fukushima can be seen here(http://www.podniesinski.pl/portal/fukushima/), and on Chernobyl here(http://www.podniesinski.pl/portal/the-zone-in-4k-ii/).

David McNeill writes for The Irish Times (http://www.irishtimes.com/), The Economist(http://www.economist.com/) and other publications. An Asia-Pacific Journal editor, he is acoauthor of Strong in the Rain: Surviving Japan's Earthquake, Tsunami and FukushimaNuclear Disaster(https://www.amazon.com/dp/0230341861/ref=cm_sw_su_dp?tag=theasipacjo0b-20)(Palgrave Macmillan).