Memoirs of a Russian Interpreter: Part I

Without my realising it, my career as a Russian interpreter began in 1984 with a phone call from someone who didn’t know what interpreter meant.

“The USSR consulate gave us your name. A delegation from Russia is coming to Bombay. We would like you to work as a translator.” The clerk from ICCR (Indian Council for Cultural Relations) said over the phone.

“Do you mean interpreter?” I asked, my heart thumping. Until then, I had read about that species only in fiction. My mind recalled the story of a Greek interpreter who was coerced to help a kidnapper talk to his victims.

“They said you are a translator.”

“Would I need to translate written material, or do you want me to accompany your delegation so that they can talk at their meetings?”

“Yes, we want you to go everywhere with them. It’s a small delegation; only three people, all musicians. I’ve got their names here. Two girls and a man – Nurilla, Nuri and Jan.” He paused and in a that-was-the-good-news-now-here-is-the-bad-one tone added: “We can only pay sixty rupees a day (about four dollars then). We are a govt organisation, you see.”

I was working with a chartered accountants’ firm, an occupation that I detested wholeheartedly. I applied for short leave and two days later was at the airport waiting for the two girls and a man to emerge.

***

I could not see two white girls and a man – with or without musical instruments. The only foreigners I saw were three elderly men who looked lost. One of them had Mongolian features. Where was my delegation? As I walked around, I heard the elderly men speak in Russian. Even the man with narrow eyes spoke in Russian. Quite a coincidence this. I thought they might know something about my group. I went and greeted them.

“Where is Ravindra?” One of the men asked me in Russian.

“That’s me. My name is Ravi. Ravindra is the official name.”

“Oh, hello! We’ve been waiting for some time.”

The three introduced themselves.

“I’m Nurilla Zakirov.” Said the youngest of the three men. As I learnt later, he was in his early forties, but I thought of him as an elderly person since I was only twenty-two. (Now-a-days, I don’t consider people in their forties to be all that old). Plump, short and half-bald, Nurilla had a very round face. Though he wore glasses, you could clearly see how piercing his eyes were. He was a composer from Tashkent, Uzbekistan.

Nuri Mukhatov, the oldest, looked like Onassis (Anthony Quinn) in The Greek Tycoon – but without his wealth. He came from Turkmenistan. The third person who hardly spoke was an Estonian composer – Jan Raats. In 1984, blue jeans – an American symbol – were disapproved by the USSR authorities. The three gentlemen wore formal trousers and full-sleeve shirts. Age and enthusiasm had dictated Nurilla to be the natural leader of the group.

“Please tell ICCR not to call us a Russian delegation.” Nurilla said. “None of us is Russian.” Calling Soviets from the other republics Russians was as great an offence as calling a man from Scotland an Englishman. 

***

One of the planned visits was to the Sangeet Mahabharati conservatory. It was founded by Nikhil Ghosh, a Bengali musician with a long beard. His family welcomed us. His sons Nayan and Dhruv Ghosh, already well-known instrumentalists, were ready with their tabla and sitar tuned.

“Please tell our guests I don’t see them carrying any instruments.” Said the patriarch Ghosh.

“We are composers, not players.” Clarified Nurilla.

“Please tell them… in our country composers normally play on some instruments, at least the harmonium.”

“Yes, we play a bit… but we can’t carry grand pianos with us on our travel.” I translated what Nurilla said and everyone laughed.

Nikhil Ghosh then began a discourse on Indian music and instruments.

In India, we’re not accustomed to working with interpreters. He started each sentence with “please tell them…” which quite annoyed me. I was going to tell them everything that was said. Professional interpreters use first person when translating. For example, when Nikhil Ghosh said “these are my two sons.” I said in Russian “these are my two sons” rather than “these are his two sons.” The job of an interpreter is to replicate what’s being said in the right tone and emotions. One school considers that if the speaker is crying while speaking, the interpreter should cry as well. I’ll discuss this in detail in one of the future diaries.

To return to the Sangeet Mahabharati, Nikhil Ghosh continued to talk about Indian classical music and instruments. After I translated, he would once again explain the same thing. As a faithful interpreter, I continued to translate whatever he said, but eventually I grew tired of the repetition.

“Excuse me, but I’ve already translated what raga is.” I said.

“I know. But these are difficult concepts to understand for you. Unless you understand well what I’m saying, you won’t be able to translate for them. I want…”

“Sorry, but…” I interrupted. “… I was born in a musician’s family. My father, Shankar Abhyankar is a sitarist, vocalist and composer.”

“Oh,” his eyes glistened, “you are Shankar’s son! You should have said that in the beginning. Then of course you know all this very well.”

The talk moved smoothly after that.

***

The three composers stayed at hotel Ritz, Church Gate. One afternoon, after lunch, I said to Nurilla we could visit a bank as he had wished. Nurilla immediately changed the subject. Later, he took me aside and said,

“I don’t want those two to know about it. I’m carrying some money – of my own. I would like to change it into Rupees so I could do a bit of shopping.”

While the Turkmen and the Estonian enjoyed a siesta, Nurilla and I went hunting for a place that would change Soviet roubles into rupees. Everywhere, at the banks and Thomas Cook, they looked with wonder at the notes Nurilla was carrying and said they couldn’t convert those. In those days, black-market moneychangers operated across Khadi Bhavan. For each US Dollar, they normally offered two rupees more than the official rate. The man would take you to the staircase of a nearby building. The operation would be effected on the stairs. If the amount involved was big, he first made you wait until his accomplice brought the required sum from an unknown ‘head office’.

Looking left and right for any signs of police, I talked to one such street moneychanger. He was from Kerala. Nurilla, he and I went to the staircase and he inspected the notes. On his pocket calculator, he rapidly pressed some keys.

“Nobody deals with Russian money.” He said. “I’ll offer two rupees for each rouble. You have… two thousand? Ok, you get four thousand rupees.”

“Listen Nurilla, this is daylight robbery. Officially, you should get something like 25 rupees for each rouble, he is offering just two.”

“But I’ve many roubles in Tashkent. I need Rupees here. I would like to buy something for my children, my wife. The exchange rate doesn’t matter.” The moneychanger looked at us blankly, unable to understand a word.

I took Nurilla away from the black market. The following morning, I went to his hotel room and opened my wallet.

“I’m not rich. But from my savings, I can offer you this.” I took out 2000 rupees. “You can buy things for your family.”

“No, why are you giving your own money? I can’t take it. Or you can take the roubles I am carrying.”

“What am I going to do with Roubles here?”

We talked in circles. Finally, it was agreed Nurilla would take the rupees. I wouldn’t take any roubles from him – they were useless anyway. (Also it was illegal to take roubles out of the USSR or bring them in). When I went to the USSR, he could pay me back in roubles. At that time, I thought it was unlikely I would ever go to the USSR.

In this manner, my first assignment as an interpreter resulted in a net monetary loss for me.

***

Despite the financials, I enjoyed working with the Soviet composers. At the airport, we exchanged postal addresses.

“It was good fun, thank you.” I said. “I’ll be honest with you. Nurilla and Nuri are female names in this part of the world. That was the reason, you know, why I was looking for a… different composition… when you arrived.”

The three composers exchanged glances. Nurilla burst out laughing.

“Now that you say this… we were told our interpreter was some ‘Ravindra’. As you know, in Russia, every name ending in –a is a female name. We expected a beautiful Indian girl to work with us, and not someone in a goatee beard.”

***

Nurilla remained in my debt only for two years.

In 1986, I landed in Moscow as a student. House of Friendship, my sponsor, was willing to organise subsidised trips for us. Even with subsidies, travelling to Uzbekistan was expensive. A three-hour flight from Moscow to Tashkent, another couple of flights to Samarkand and Bukhara and staying at hotels everywhere. It was beyond what I could afford.

In those days, people still wrote letters. I had exchanged a few with Nurilla. I now queued at the post office to call him. After exchanging pleasantries, I came to the point.

“I can come to Tashkent, but I’ve no money.”

“Ravi, I’ll pay for your trip. I owe you money.”

“I’ve calculated. I need more than what you owe me. I propose barter. I’ve certain things you don’t get in the USSR. I’ll give them to you.”

“That’s not necessary. You just take as much money as you need.”

“No Nurilla, I would prefer it this way.”

I then temporarily borrowed from my Austrian roommate for the Uzbekistan trip. On my first evening in Tashkent, (after seeking permission from the accompanying KGB escorts) I took my university-mates for dinner at Nurilla’s house. When we left, Seth, my American friend remarked: “It’s some kind of magic. Ravi, I thought you were carrying a blue suitcase when we reached the house. Now I see your hands are empty.” I simply blinked my eyes and smiled mysteriously.

I had thrust into Nurilla’s hands the suitcase, an alarm clock, an umbrella – all from Singapore, and an Indian shawl. I took Roubles from him. The account opened in 1984 was now settled.

In later years, both Nurilla and I would look back at this whole business with amusement.

***

From the beginning of 1990, I lived in Moscow and could afford to make phone calls to Tashkent. As a consultant to the Menon group of companies, I was responsible for their USSR (and later ex-USSR) operations and was “obliged” to visit every republic to explore business opportunities. The first republic I flew to was Uzbekistan. Nurilla was at the Tashkent airport to welcome me.

I can now live in a hotel, I said.

No, in Tashkent you can’t live in a hotel, said Nurilla.

Nurilla owned a four-bedroom apartment on Navoi Street. Independent sources confirmed it was the biggest house in Tashkent.

“My great-grandfather, Abdullah, owned the whole of Tashkent. In the 19^th century, Russian troops attacked us and captured the city. Now I am left with this – a four bedroom apartment.”

I don’t know whether this was the reason why Nurilla was never particularly fond of Russians.

“In private, I can hate them. But in public I must take a party line. Had I not joined the communist party, they wouldn’t have allowed me to compose for ballets or operas. My symphonies would never have got published. Why, I couldn’t have travelled to India. All three of us who came to India were party members. Party members first, composers later. You know in this country, we have to create literature in the socialist spirit, write music in the socialist spirit.”

Nurilla also held strong views (expressed mildly) about his own culture disappearing. He and his wife talked in Uzbek, but his children in Russian. Zakirov was not the family name of his ancestor who lost Tashkent to Russians. The imperialists had managed to Russify all Muslim names by adding ‘-ov’ to them.

“You see this?” Nurilla once took me to see a Tashkent mosque. “Only the oldest. Those near their death. No young people ever come here. The Soviets have made us into an atheist nation. It’s my dream to visit Haj. Every Muslim is supposed to go there once in life. I don’t think with my party ticket I’ll be able to do it – ever.”

Our meetings became more frequent as I joined British American Tobacco. I was part of BAT’s acquisition team for Tashkent and Samarkand. I went to Tashkent every couple of months. On some evenings, I went to Nurilla’s house – ate Uzbeki plov made by his wife, played chess with his son Iskander, ate juicy Uzbeki cherries endlessly while listening to Nurilla’s latest compositions. With Nurilla on the side, entrance to Tashkent theatres and ballets was free for me.

Life began to change faster than he had expected. In 1991, Uzbekistan had become a free country – no longer ruled from Moscow. Nurilla’s joy was short-lived. Islam Karimov’s rule made him feel that the Soviets were better. The bomb blasts and other activities by Uzbekistan’s Islamic movement made him feel that atheism was better. He became disillusioned and sought to move away in search of a better life for his children. If earlier, he was forced to compose in socialist spirit; now he became spiritless and his music output stopped.

In 1999, I was transferred to Poland. I decided to call Nurilla only in 2001, when one of my colleagues was posted to Tashkent. I tried the phone several times. It didn’t work. Country and city codes change so often in the modern world; it didn’t surprise me at all. I gave my colleague Nurilla’s address, told him about the biggest apartment in Tashkent. Since he would be based in Tashkent for the next four years, he must meet this friend of mine. I sent a small polish souvenir for Nurilla. 

Only a month later, my colleague e-mailed to say the Zakirov family had migrated to the USA. No, he didn’t leave behind any address or phone.

Finally, Nurilla had succeeded in fleeing – not from the Russians, but from the Uzbeks. I didn’t know how or where to look for him. For me, Nurilla was associated with Tashkent. I wouldn’t like to visit Tashkent again, I thought.

***

In 2005, in one of my diaries I wrote an Uzbeki story (Open diary 42, 2005). I remembered Nurilla and thought I would Google him. Try to find his whereabouts in the USA and call him. I was surprised to find an entry on him in Wikipedia. The entry was fairly accurate and said ‘in 2000, he moved to the USA for political and professional reasons.’

Only after reading the entry, I saw its heading.

“Nurilla Zakirov (1942, Tashkent, Uzbekistan – 2003, Atlanta, USA)”.

I had to read it a couple of times before I understood its meaning. I wish I hadn’t searched the web for his name. For once, I was annoyed with Wikipedia for supplying me with information I hadn’t asked for.                                                                                   

Ravi

Pending on 31st December

You can’t imagine the number of photographs we have at our house. The oldest, I think, is a group photo that features my great-great-grandparents. In effect, we have photos taken over 100 years or so. And they are all over the place. What I want to do is to systematically organise them. Buy albums of the same size, the modern ones you know where it’s easy to insert pictures without dirtying your hands – arrange them either yearwise or think of some themes. Birthdays, Ganesh festivals, our trips et cetera. Label each of the albums and number them. I can imagine how nice they’ll look ranging from number one to say two hundred – all standing like army soldiers in the showcase. I want to do this. It’s simply a matter of finding time. In fact, I would love to scan them as well. Maybe not all – but certainly the oldest ones. The yellowing ones. It’s such a wonderful gift of technology. It’ll take only a few seconds to convert to electrons the picture of my great-great-grandparents. Next Sunday, after lunch I must try to do that.

 

Same Sunday I want to write down all the numbers in my cell phone. My cousin had his phone stolen last week. It reminded me I’d planned to do this for a long time. If my phone is stolen god forbid I’ll lose some of my friends for ever. I want to note down all the numbers, and yes I want to delete all unnecessary messages. I think my box is full. That should be easy. I can do it when sitting in a traffic jam. But noting down the numbers somewhere is a priority. Someone said you can transfer them directly to your computer. Yes I remember that’s the reason why I postponed writing them down. But I need to find out which cable to use. And how. I have no idea how to do it myself.

 

My cell phone and our television’s remote control look very similar. And they both keep getting misplaced inside the house. No problem if I can’t find the cell phone. I simply go to my landline, and call myself on mobile. I know it sounds silly, and I must be the only person in the world to call myself from one phone to another. It’s such a pleasure to anticipate the familiar ringing from some corner of the house. Normally the mobile is hidden under a newspaper or my wife’s purse or something like that. Once, to my embarrassment, I found it in my trouser pocket. (Yes, I was wearing those trousers). Finding the remote control is more painful. We must search and find it because the knobs on television are no longer working. (If we press the volume up, it goes down.) Remote control is the only thing that keeps our TV going. Which reminds me I have to change its batteries. They are smaller in size. Every time the remote becomes dysfunctional, I take each battery out and rub its head on my shirt - vigorously. You will be surprised how well batteries get charged by rubbing them on a cotton shirt. I’m afraid one day they won’t respond to my shirt. I’ll then change them.

 

It’s strange how you find things – when you are not looking for them. The other day I was searching for the remote control and I found the manual for my digital camera. This manual I’ve been searching for more than a year now. Since the time I bought my Sony digital. My brother tells me I don’t use more than 5% of the functionality. That may be true. For more than a year, I’ve kept the initial setting. I must say I do manage to get the pictures. I take them only in the daylight. That’s why I wanted to read the manual, understand all the different signs (P, S, A, M, setup, AE lock, Ω, SCN, ∆… so many of them). I must read the manual to start using my camera properly. I tried once or twice to press the Menu. Whenever I press the menu, what was working also stops working – be it the digital camera, remote control or computer.    

 

Talking about the computer, I must call a computer doctor. Every time I open my computer, there is this message flashing – your system may be at risk. This copy of windows did not pass the genuine validation. I don’t want that message. It keeps appearing every few minutes. What’s the point in telling me what I already know? I keep deleting it. I want the computer doctor to clean up my computer; I think it has far more temporary files than permanent. I wonder if he can help me unblock my blog as well. That is another embarrassing thing – like finding the cell phone in my trouser pocket. I had a blog, and I wrote on it on and off. I came back from a two week trip and tried to log in. I couldn’t remember the password. I have so many logins and passwords now – and they are all fairly similar to one another. I haven’t written them anywhere, because you’re not supposed to write down passwords. Now my own blog has got blocked and I don’t know what to do.

 

Talking of passwords reminds me of the bank matters. The three-digit security code at the back of my credit card is apparently a huge risk. I’m told waiters note that number and start using your card in the internet. I don’t know if I can scratch the three digits off. If I do, I’ll have to remember the number, because I can’t write it down anywhere. And remember it for each of my credit cards. Currently I pay my restaurant bills by cash – until I find a solution. There is the HDFC bank matter to be settled as well. The bank sent me a card without my asking for it– must be six or seven years ago. I never used it. But in the first year, they still charged some amount. And now each year I get a bill with 18% added. This year it’s become a sizeable amount. I write to the bank every year denying all this, cursing the manager and the bill keeps mounting. That’s one thing I must sort out-urgently.

 

The other urgent item is the dentist. I haven’t been to the dentist for, I think, more than a year now. I read somewhere you should go every six months. But it doesn’t happen if nothing happens. Now, though, I feel something is wrong in the upper left corner, I hope it’s not a cavity. It’s not hurting or anything – just a funny feeling when I eat on the left side. I must take an appointment urgently. For the last four months I’ve been eating exclusively on the right side of my mouth.

 

If I get an appointment this week, I could also go to the car mechanic next to the clinic. Both the back doors have child locks, even when we don’t want them. (My daughter sits in the front). The other day, I wanted to escape from a wedding and go to the gym. I’d decided to change to the gym clothes in the car. I changed at the back side of my car, and then couldn’t get out. Somehow I squeezed myself over the top of the gearbox to fall in the driver seat, but my back is still hurting. I must get the child locks unlocked.

 

Dentist. Car mechanic. Plumber. I must not forget. They’re all located one after the other. For months now, the tub in the bathroom is leaking. I can’t see where the leak is. But it must be fixed. Of course, tub bath is out of question. But I’ve found an angle. If I take shower from that angle, the water doesn’t leak. I don’t know what the connection is. This is only a temporary solution. I must call the plumber to get the leak fixed.

 

These are small matters, and given time most of them will get sorted out quickly. I’ve now made a file in my computer where I note the pending item, and write a deadline by which it must be resolved. Some are pretty minor. Like buying a pen stand. I’ve decided I must have a pen stand next to my land line. Or maybe hang a pen to a string next to the phone. Alternatively I can buy some twenty cheap pens and keep them in the drawer below the phone. And a notepad next to it.

 

In the computer file, everything I have mentioned here has a deadline of 31^st December. But today is 31^st December. And I’m busy. I’ve to attend a party this evening. I’m afraid the new deadline will have to be the end of January.

 

Ravi 

The Ethics of Nuclear Bombing

My rambling this week, and a genuine rambling it is, is based on random thoughts generated while doing research for the Hiroshima/Nagasaki article last week.

Quotes, snippets and Bhagvad Gita

Before boarding the plane leaving on a mission to bomb Hiroshima, Dick Nelson, a 24 year old kid then, an old man now, recalls:

“You knew it was big, you just didn’t want to mess anything up… When we were in the air somebody said… this bomb costs as much as an aircraft carrier…well … then you really get the monkey on your back.”

Van Kirk, another crew member, also 24 at that time, remembers the late-night scene just before departure. Spotlights had lit the aircraft up. Van Kirk compares the atmosphere to a Hollywood premier. Dick Nelson thinks of a supermarket opening,

“Klieg lights and all kinds of photographers… you’re almost embarrassed.”

The glorious event in America’s history needed to be documented for posterity.

The most famous photo is that of a grinning Paul Tibbets, the pilot of the plane that dropped the Hiroshima bomb. Just before departure, he is seen waving, delight on his face, to the night-time crowd. Tibbets had named his plane “Enola Gay”, his mother’s maiden name. This was his way of honouring her.

Bernard Waldman, a physician, was part of the crew with the task of taking live photographs of the historic explosion. The Hiroshima mushroom cloud pictures we see today were taken by his Pentax camera that could take 7000 frames per second.

Robert Oppenheimer, father of the atomic bomb, and a philosophy scholar; on hearing the Hiroshima bombing described his feelings by recalling a verse from Bhagvad Gita:

“Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.”

[Bhagvad Gita, chapter 11, verse 32]

It’s said Oppenheimer had quoted another verse in regard to the explosion itself:

If the radiance of a thousand suns were to

Burst forth at once in the sky, that would

Be like the splendour of the Mighty One.”

[Bhagvad Gita, Chapter 11, verse 12]

The prophetic Bhagvad Gita has it all. In Mahabharata, the Indian epic probably five thousand years old; the two armies of warring cousins are ready to begin the battle. Arjuna, a master archer, one of the central heroes of the epic, a conscientious man; suddenly (in chapter 11) develops moral doubts about the whole exercise. He wants to put the weapons down to stop the potential slaughter. His chariot is driven by God Himself. Lord Krishna, his charioteer and advisor, boosts his morale by doing two things. Krishna first reveals his divine form to Arjuna. (Form comparable to thousand suns bursting in the sky at once. See verse above).  Secondly, he explains to Arjuna his duty in the battlefield. “I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds. Whether you kill them or not, they’re all going to perish one day. Remember, only bodies can be killed, the souls are immortal. So please, dear Arjuna, do your duty without worrying about the consequences.”

[Nothing much seemed to have changed in 5000 years since the Bhagvad Gita. The civilians in Hiroshima, and later Nagasaki, were going to die one day anyway. And only their bodies got radiated and pulverised. The souls of the Japanese – like those of other humans – are immortal.]

And finally, President Truman ordering no more nuclear attacks without his explicit approval. He said he was tired of killing, particularly all those kids.

***

The Ethics of killing Civilians with A-bombs

In school, I remember some teacher telling us about the pilot who bombed Hiroshima feeling remorse and committing suicide later. That is patently untrue. Both pilots repeatedly said how proud they were of their patriotic heroic actions. (Sweeney, the Nagasaki pilot died in 2004; and Tibbets, the Hiroshima pilot, is 91 and alive).

Which brings me to the question of ethics of atomic bombing. For most Americans involved in the creation and use of a-bombs, it was not an ethical issue at all. I think I understand their psychology.

In WWII, the professional warriors were engaged in destroying the enemy. Allies wished to kill as many Japanese, civilians and combatants alike, as possible.  Killing them one by one with 200 pound bombs was a time-consuming activity. It also risked American lives.  The A-bomb was 200,000 times more powerful. It was simply a far more efficient weapon. It destroyed in few seconds what normally took months. So the issue was not moral or spiritual, it was one of economics and cost of production.

My personal view is that nuclear bombing is as ethical or unethical as ordinary bombing, or use of a handgun. Only the scale is different. Human race, as it progresses, strives to benefit from economies of scale. Technological inventions make this feasible. I can send this essay to 100 readers worldwide through a click. My grandfather would have spent a year to achieve similar results. The same with nuclear weapons. They are more efficient, and offer better value and quicker results for materials and labour expended.

The second moral issue is that of killing civilians. Again, in modern times, I personally don’t differentiate between killing of civilians and military. The combat is no longer face-to-face with primitive weapons. Deception and surprise attacks are a norm of the 21^st century warfare. Moreover, many uniformed combatants are conscripted (drafted) against their wishes. Russian kids, unwilling and untrained, sent to die in Chechnya are a good example. For me, in a surprise attack, killing of a civilian or of a man in uniform is ethically equal. If you don’t agree with me, please compare the 11^th September attacks on Pentagon and the World Trade Center. Was killing of the military personnel at Pentagon less unethical than killing the civilians in the World Trade Center?

Uniform by itself does not make the action of killing ethical. 

For Americans in the Second World War, atom bomb was not a moral problem. Neither it is, I suspect, for the present American government.  In Afghanistan and Iraq, nuclear weapons are not used, only because they are not necessary. There is no need to kill a million Iraqis for controlling oil in Iraq. (On the contrary, nuclear explosion may endanger the oil reservoirs.)  

At least 50,000 Iraqi civilians are confirmed killed to-date, for a loss of 2811 Americans and 120 British, which though not as efficient as the 911 ratio (on 9-11, each suicide bomber took 150 lives of the enemy) is fairly decent at about 17:1. (Vietnam was about 40 Vietnamese corpses for each American corpse.)  For expediency, I will call it the Corpse ratio. Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombing had produced the best corpse ratios in the history of warfare.  If you ignore the small number of unfortunate Americans stationed there, the two bombs killed more than 200,000 enemy bodies without losing a single of their own.

***

A Million to One Ratio

These days, imperialism is rarely a declared motive for a war. In recent wars, after a few years of fighting, no-one understands or remembers the war objectives any more (Americans in Vietnam, Russians in Afghanistan). If you ask an American or a British soldier in Iraq today what exactly he is fighting for, improving the corpse ratio is the only rational answer he could come up with. If we accept ratio analysis as the basis for war, we can analyze the following three situations of a nuclear attack:

(a) A Nuclear State against a Nuclear State

(b) A Nuclear State against a Non-Nuclear State

(c) Terrorists with nuclear weapons against any State

In the first scenario, say America striking China, they’ll have an excellent corpse ratio for a short time. Until China strikes back. The ratio will keep fluctuating with each strike. Because of China’s population, America will be in a favourable position. However, when both countries are obliterated, the war would have produced at best 4:1, too low a ratio to be acceptable. Owing to the deterrent nature of the mutually iterative operation, one nuclear State striking another is unlikely.

In the second scenario, the Hiroshima/Nagasaki scenario; countries like America could use a-bombs or Hydrogen bombs if a particular situation warrants terrorising a country into submission. N-programmes such as the ones developed by North Korea and planned by Iran could trigger such a threat. However, as the examples of Afghanistan and Iraq have shown, conventional weapons are strong enough to achieve the objectives. This chess board contains material so unequal on two sides, that the game is not interesting. This scenario, as things stand today, is also unlikely.

Terrorists using the nuclear weapons is the most likely scenario. Human casualties are most important to terrorists. Corpse ratio most relevant for them. Even at the 9-11 ratio, Al Qaida would need 2 million suicide bombers to expunge American population. A nuclear weapon, on the other hand, could achieve an impressive million to one ratio.

***

Population Density

Any weapon, including nuclear bombs, targets an area, not people. The stronger weapons destroy more square miles. People just happen to be part of that area. Hence, population densities become important in a war game. Some readers (you can guess from where) have asked me why I keep harping on about Manhattan being a high-risk proposition. The answer is its density. Manhattan has a density of 66,950 people per sq. mile compared to say Los Angeles (8,190). Terrorists always want value for money. Blowing the weapon in Manhattan makes eight times more sense than in Los Angeles. Then again, Manhattan or Central London for that matter, being working places, the threat enhances dramatically during working hours. I can say with certainty no major terrorist attack will happen there in the night-time or on a Sunday. (Note 1: Hiroshima was bombed on Monday, Nagasaki on Thursday, and 9/11 happened on Tuesday. All three acts took place during office hours).

(Note 2: If the USA wanted to destroy the military infrastructure in Japan as claimed, the ethical route was to (a) warn first; (b) allow Hiroshima, Nagasaki to be evacuated and then (c) bomb them. Unfortunately; Americans knew that destruction, without human casualties, does not have the same psychological impact.)  

***

Can the Terrorists get their hands on it?

The nuclear virus exists. In several forms. With the collapse of the Soviet Union, three new nuclear states had emerged in a day: Ukraine, the third biggest nuclear power after US and Russia; Belarus, no.4 and Kazakhstan, no.8. Allegedly, all three are now denuclearised. Not without creating a black market for spare parts and technical know-how. Fifteen years after the Soviet demise, Americans are still doing book-keeping; trying to reconcile the missing inventory. You also have the Soviet scientists, their brains still functioning. Not all of them are taken good care of by the societies they live in. As the example of Pakistani Dr Abdul Qadeer Khan showed, smuggling of know-how or parts is as dangerous as smuggling of actual weapons. 

A palm-sized i-pod today easily contains 2000 songs. Like laptops, nuclear weapons keep increasing in power and reducing in size. Eventually, the suitcase n-bomb in the James Bond films must become reality.

http://lugar.senate.gov/reports/NPSurvey.pdf  is a survey collating opinions of 85 non-proliferation and security experts. It says the possibility is real and increasing every year. The risk of nuclear attack in the next 10 years is estimated to be 29.2%. (That of a Radiological attack 40%). A majority of the group designated a black market purchase as the most likely method by which terrorists could obtain the weapons or fissile materials.

http://www.icrc.org/Web/eng/siteeng0.nsf/htmlall/review-859-p497/$File/irrc_859_Egger_Wirz.pdf

This link from a scientific year-old report is benign. Trusting it will make you feel comfortable. The report gives in detail why manufacture of a nuclear weapon or use of a stolen one by terrorists is improbable. It, however, concurs with the earlier link that risk of radiological terrorism is high.

Nuclear explosion: Manhattan.

http://www.atomicarchive.com/Example/Example1.shtml

This link offers a wonderful, if wonderful is a word I could use, simulation of terrorists detonating a nuclear bomb in the heart of Manhattan. The nine slides give a ball-by-ball commentary on what happens in the few minutes after the explosion.  20 sq. miles of property get destroyed; 800,000 killed and 900,000 injured.

For comparison, I attach another example, this one of a nuclear accident near San Francisco.

 http://www.atomicarchive.com/Example/SF_Example1.shtml

Due to lower density; though 105 sq. miles of property get destroyed, only 224,000 are killed and 175,000 injured.

***

PNAC: Launch of World War III

The United States of America had two options.

One option was to concentrate on economics and material prosperity of America, non-aggression towards others, non-interference in the running of other sovereign nations.

The second option was the one they have chosen. Of starting World War III.

In 1998, Usama Bin Laden issued a fatwa declaring war against America. Few people know America had declared their desire for war a year before, on 3 June 1997 – through the “Project of the New American Century” (PNAC). (http://www.newamericancentury.org/). The project signatories attempt to make a case for the global dominance by America and aim to rally support for it. They believe America has a vital role in maintaining security and peace in Europe, Asia and the Middle East. They want America to create an international order – friendly to American security, American prosperity and American principles.

Signatories include some familiar names: Dick Cheney, Donald Rumsfield, Jeb Bush, Paul Wolfowitz and John Bolton.

Careful analysis of the vocabulary used by modern American rulers shows how the current war is cleverly juxtaposed with the World War II. I’ll give here only two examples that are widely known.

On and after 11^th September 2001, the term “Ground Zero” was extensively used. The current generation is unlikely to know its etymology. The expression was used first in 1946 by New York Times in connection with the Hiroshima bombing. Oxford Dictionary explains: “Ground Zero is that part of the ground situated immediately under an exploding bomb, especially an atomic one.”

America calls its coalition partners “Allies”, again a WW terminology. The World War II was fought between Allies and the Axis powers. The Axis of evil then was: Germany, Japan and Italy. Bush has contemporarised the term using replacements: Iraq, Iran and North Korea.

America has subtly begun the third World War. God bless America, and may they win the war against terror. I’m not a technical expert to calculate the probability of terrorists acquiring or blowing a nuclear bomb. But my analysis confirms to me that once it is technically possible, the political probability of it happening is high. Once America has declared a “War on Terror”, its opponent - “Terror” - is forced to think of counter-moves all the time.

In this World War III, the Mighty One may come from the wrong end.

Ravi

How are Targets Selected for Atomic Bombing?

Every few months we read about some psychopath in America going on a murder spree before killing himself.  The victims are random. They simply happen to be at the ill-fated place at the time of massacre. Sometimes the venue of the multiple-murders is spontaneously decided as well.

Professional terrorists, on the other hand, give considerable thought to the targets they plan to hit. The venue selection is an outcome of ruthless logic.

This week’s diary is a historical account of how, and why, Hiroshima and Nagasaki came to be the targets for the only two atomic weapons ever used.

***

Einstein letter gets the Atomic ball rolling

The atomic history begins with a letter dated 2 August 1939 by Albert Einstein to Franklin Roosevelt, the American president.

It’s often believed scientists invent for the sake of science, and then others – politicians or businessmen – abuse the inventions. Alternatively, politicians set an agenda (for example, sending man on the moon), and ask the scientific community to work on the brief. With atomic bombs, neither was the case. A renowned scientist, representing a group of refugee scientists, took the initiative and approached a politician. Einstein the pacifist urged Roosevelt to create a structure of administrators and physicists working together on nuclear chain reactions. Einstein believed Germany may reach there before, and wanted United States to develop the weapon for defence. (As a Jew, he was blacklisted in Germany.) Within less than a month, on 1 September 1939, Germany invaded Poland to officially start the Second World War.

As a response to Einstein’s letter, a Uranium committee with a budget of six thousand dollars was formed in October 1939.  The politicians may have confused the smallness of atom as a substance and the size of budget required to make it react. Anyway, the Uranium committee got the atomic ball rolling.

***

The Manhattan project

Progress of the World War II and news of nuclear research from Europe may have convinced Roosevelt of the urgency and scale required.  The project – later named the “Manhattan Project”, employing 130,000 people and with a budget of two billion dollars – held its first meeting on 6 Dec. 1941. By a spooky historical coincidence, on the following day, Japanese attacked Pearl Harbour, killing 2500 Americans. On 8 Dec. 1941 America declared war on Japan. The massive rallying of the American population behind the President, the enormous public hatred towards the enemy, and the overall emotional aftermath of Pearl Harbour were comparable to another surprise attack on America that was to take place sixty years later. Pearl Harbour united the divided nation.

Two men in their prime were key in the Manhattan project structure. General Leslie Groves, in his forties, was its military head and the overall project leader. His drive and energy, military experience, organisational ability and unwavering confidence gained for the project the speed and support it required. Robert Oppenheimer was the scientific director, who later came to be known as the ‘father of the atomic bomb’. Born to wealthy Jew German immigrants, Oppenheimer was one of the most brilliant physicists in the country. In his late thirties at the time of appointment, he had varied interests outside physics. Philosophy, poetry and religion interested him. At Berkley, he had learnt Sanskrit and read some Hindu scriptures in original.

The scientific process is, unfortunately, very lengthy. More so, when it must be carried out in secret. It was only three years later that Groves and Oppenheimer began feeling optimistic they had succeeded in developing earth’s loudest gadgets.

***

A tumultuous month

In April, 1945 all of a sudden things began to happen. The long serving Roosevelt died on April 12. Mussolini was killed on April 28. Hitler committed suicide on May 1. In three weeks, three major war powers had lost their heads.  On May 7, Germany surrendered officially, and the war in Europe ended. Harry Truman, the vice-president, succeeded Roosevelt as the President of the United States. Both Truman and Roosevelt belonged to the Democratic Party. Curiously, Truman – until he became America’s President – was not made aware of the Manhattan project.

You have here a 61-year old man who on becoming the President is told his country has secretly developed, after toiling for over three years, miraculous toys.

We don’t know if the toys work unless we use them. Could you, Mr President, please sanction urgently their use? Before it’s too late?

Truman must have been of a decisive nature. He quickly chose to throw the A- bombs on Japan. The decision was taken in less than a month since his becoming America’s president. It was taken in less than a month since his learning the secret. Not known if Roosevelt would have taken such a decision, but that was irrelevant. Roosevelt was dead. Einstein’s letter to him had recommended creating defence against Nazi Germany. The Germans had surrendered and by now it was confirmed they didn’t have atomic bombs. The war in Europe was over. Testing the new toys on Japan was the best available option. The “Japs” were a different race anyway. It’s easier to loathe people from other races. Many American military men referred to Japs as “monkeys in trousers”. Time was running out. If the bombs were not used, the 2 billion $ gamble would be investigated and debated for a long time to come. Bombing must happen before the Japanese surrendered. Leslie Groves, Harry Truman and every patriotic American who knew of A-bombs hoped the opportunity to test them would not slip.

***

And the Winner is…

On 10/11 May, 1945, the target committee comprising of a general, a colonel, a captain, a major and nine nuclear scientists gathered in the office of Dr Oppenheimer.

One Dr Stearns described his meticulous work on target selection. The committee agreed the following criteria for the targets:

(a) They be important targets in a large urban area of more than three miles in diameter.

(b) They be capable of being damaged effectively by a blast.

(c) They are unlikely to be attacked by August, the projected month of bombing.

(d) They should obtain the greatest psychological effect against Japan.

(e) They be spectacular enough to be internationally recognised.

The committee agreed the weapon will not be used against any strictly military target.

[In 1939, the British Prime Minister Chamberlain had told his parliament. “His majesty’s government will never resort to deliberate attack on women and children, and on other civilians for the purposes of mere terrorism.” Though Churchill as ally was to approve the atomic bombing, no British was part of the target committee.

A few years later Harry Truman was to write in his published memoirs: “The final decision of where and when to use the atomic bomb was up to me. Let there be no mistake about it. I regarded the bomb as a military weapon and never had any doubt it should be so used. In deciding to use the bomb, I wanted to make sure it would be used as a weapon of war in the manner prescribed by the laws of war. That meant I wanted it dropped on a military target.”]

In May 1945, the target committee decided the target will not be small and strictly military, because god forbid if the bomb were to miss the target, the expensive weapon would be wasted. Three years of hard work turning futile in a matter of seconds.

Kyoto was the unanimously agreed first choice. It was the cultural centre of Japan. It had about 2000 Buddhist and Shinto temples, palaces, gardens and beautiful architecture. A former capital of Japan, it was now an urban industrial area with more than one million people living in it. People were moving to Kyoto as other parts of Japan were getting destroyed. Kyoto was not yet firebombed. (Tokyo was disqualified since it was extensively bombed anyway. Tokyo firebombing in March 1945 had killed 100,000 as a result of firestorms).

As the target committee mentioned in the minutes “from the psychological point of view there is the advantage that Kyoto is an intellectual center for Japan and the people there are more apt to appreciate the significance of such a weapon as the gadget.” [Presumably it meant people who will survive are more apt to appreciate the significance: R.]

Kyoto met all the criteria. It was an ideal target. The Manhattan committee members, with great enthusiasm and excitement, visualised the day when their first baby would be dropped on this intellectual city.  Kyoto received the AA status – the primary A-bomb target. Gen. Groves approved it. What remained now were the execution plans.

***

Secretary of War

United States of America, a constitutional democracy rather than a military dictatorship, prefers that critical decisions are taken by civilians and not military. General Groves, head of the Manhattan project, was therefore made to report to a civilian boss – Henry Stimson.

Henry Stimson (born 1867), a lawyer by profession, had the singular distinction of serving as the Secretary of War in both the world wars. He was a conservative republican. Stimson maintained a diary on the Manhattan project which has been de-classified since. An excerpt of an entry dated 1 June 1945 reads:

“Then I had in General Arnold and discussed with him the bombing…… in Japan. I told him of my promise from Lovett that there would be only precision bombing in Japan…… I wanted to know what the facts were. He told me that the Air Force was up against the difficult situation arising out of the fact that Japan, unlike Germany, had not concentrated her industries and that on the contrary they were scattered out and were small and closely connected in site with the houses of their employees; that thus it was practically impossible to destroy the war output of Japan without doing more damage to the civilians……than in Europe. He told me, however, that they were trying to keep it down as far as possible. I told him there was one city they must not bomb without my permission and that was Kyoto.”

The target committee continued to support Kyoto as the primary target, and Gen. Groves kept arguing with his boss for the next six weeks.

In his diary on 21 July, 1945 Stimson wrote:

“Massage and dinner, and then in the evening about ten-thirty two short cables came…… indicating that operations would be ready earlier than expected, and also asking me to reverse my decision…… [Gen. Groves requested again to make Kyoto the primary a-bomb target: R.]. I cabled, saying I saw no new factors for reversing myself but on the contrary the new factors seemed to confirm it.”

Three days later, on 24 July, in his meeting with Truman, Stimson emphasised that

 “……the bitterness which would be caused by such a wanton act [destroying Kyoto: R.] might make it impossible during the long post-war period to reconcile the Japanese to us in that area rather than to the Russians.”  

Truman agreed. On 25 July, an order was signed to use the atomic bomb with a tender name “Little Boy” as soon after August 3 as weather permitted. The primary target was – the city of Hiroshima.

***

Pu follows U

The “Little Boy” dropped on Hiroshima at 08:15 am on 6 August 1945 succeeded in killing instantly 80,000 people. (By the end of the year, another 60,000 were to die of injuries and radiation poisoning.) The Americans were jubilant. Victories are in numbers. Except the negligible matter of Hiroshima getting wiped out instead of Kyoto, everything had gone exactly as per plans. Not even suicide pilots were needed for the mission. (Unfortunately, as many as 11 Americans – war prisoners – got killed in Hiroshima. They would be grieved over and monuments built to commemorate their stunning sacrifice.)

The “Little Boy” was gone, and a “Fat Man” waited in the wings. (Little Boy was a Uranium weapon, Fat Man plutonium based. Fat Man with a diameter of 5 feet was twice as wide as Little Boy with a diameter of 28 inches; hence the names). Buoyed with the success of the Uranium A-bomb, the Americans were keen to test the Plutonium-based weapon. They prayed silently against any premature surrender by the Japanese.

On the morning of 9 August, the air force bomber Bockscar carrying the Fat Man took off for the second mission. The target given was the ancient castle-town in Japan – Kokura. 

***

Clouds the Spoilsport

09:20 am on 9 Aug 1945: Bockscar, after flying for more than six hours arrived at Kokura. To the disappointment of the crew, the city was covered with clouds. The plane rotated on top of Kokura three times, hoping for the clouds to clear up. A snag developed in the fuel transfer pump meant the plane didn’t have access to all its fuel.

10:02: Kokura unfortunately was still covered with clouds. Fuel must be conserved. The weather looked bad. The plane couldn’t possibly keep on making runs on top of Kokura. Reluctantly, it was decided to head to Nagasaki, a back-up, 95 miles south of Kokura.

10:46: The plane arrived at Nagasaki, which goddamn it, was also covered with clouds. This was truly frustrating. The instructions in case the clouds remained, were for the plane to fly back to Okinawa, and dispose of the a-bomb in the ocean. Major Sweeney, the pilot, could not imagine wasting a whole expensive plutonium bomb in the ocean. During the two runs on top of Nagasaki, the clouds still prevented any action. Americans cursed their luck and prayed at the same time.

11:00: The prayers of the flying Americans were answered. The cloud cover briefly cleared up. The Fat Man was dropped. At two minutes past eleven, it exploded generating an estimated 7000 degrees Fahrenheit heat, and 625 miles per hour winds.  

The bomb instantly killed 70,000 and injured 60,000.

Both missions were resounding accomplishments. On 14 August, 1945 the Japanese Emperor Hirohito surrendered. The Second World War was over.

***

Clouds

Clouds saved Kokura and their clearing up doomed Nagasaki.

What saved Kyoto?

It transpired that the Secretary of War Henry Stimson had had his honeymoon in Kyoto. So many fond memories were attached to that place. Using the privilege of his position, Stimson kept striking Kyoto out of the target list under various pretexts.

Clouds saved Kokura. (In Japanese, there is an idiom now: Kokura’s luck)

Sentimentality of a powerful American spared Kyoto.

Ravi