Reflecting on Hiroshima and the Future of Nuclear Disarmament

A conversation between Yui Fujiki and Branka Marijan

This summer, Project Ploughshares was honoured to welcome Yui Fujiki, a young researcher from Hiroshima, to support our work on nuclear disarmament in the lead-up to the 80th anniversaries of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings. Born and raised in Hiroshima, Yui brings a deeply personal perspective to questions of historical memory, peace, and the urgent need to prevent nuclear weapons from ever being used again. Over several weeks, she contributed research and helped shape materials that connect the past to the present, encouraging new conversations about how to build a safer world.

In this conversation with Ploughshares Senior Researcher Branka Marijan, Yui reflects on her experience, what inspires her work, and how younger generations can carry forward the lessons of Hiroshima in today’s uncertain world.

Branka Marijan: Yui, thank you so much for sharing your time with us today. Growing up in Hiroshima, you carry a unique connection to its history. Can you tell us what makes the reality of nuclear weapons feel personal for you?

Yui Fujiki: Thank you, Branka. For me, the reality of nuclear weapons has always been close, not just because I was born in Hiroshima, but because the legacy is something you grow up with. You see it in the stories hibakusha (survivors of the bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki) continue to share, in the spaces of remembrance around the city, and in the way people talk about peace as something active. The reality of nuclear weapons is personal because it raises universal questions: whose lives are protected, whose voices are heard, and what kind of peace are we really building?

And as I’ve come to understand more about how nuclear harm has affected other communities, from Indigenous people impacted by uranium mining to survivors of nuclear testing across the Pacific Islands, the issue has grown even more personal. It is about the world we live in, and the shared responsibility we all hold to ensure these weapons are never used again.

BM: This summer you’ve been researching and helping craft messages that connect Hiroshima’s past to the present. What was something you discovered in your research that surprised you or made you see things differently?

YF: One thing that really stood out for me was how often nuclear weapons are talked about in abstract terms like deterrence or national security, without much attention to the real human impact. Even today, people who’ve been directly affected by nuclear policies aren’t always included in the conversation, and that really surprised me.

As I learned more, I kept thinking about the communities that have been harmed by testing and mining, often without prior consent or compensation. It reminded me of how much of the nuclear story is still untold or unheard in global policy spaces. That shifted something for me. I started to see nuclear disarmament not just as getting rid of weapons but as a question of justice. How do we make sure those most impacted are at the centre of the conversation?

I believe that centring the voices of those most affected is not merely a matter of representation, it is essential to redefining the framework through which disarmament is understood and pursued. When decision-making excludes the lived experiences of impacted communities, we risk perpetuating the very harms disarmament efforts are meant to address.

BM: Many people today see nuclear weapons as something abstract or something that belongs in history books. From your perspective, what’s the biggest misunderstanding people have about nuclear weapons today?

YF: I think one of the biggest misunderstandings is the belief that nuclear weapons are just symbolic, or that they’re unlikely to ever be used again.

Many people assume that because they haven’t been used in war since 1945, the danger has somehow passed. But the truth is, the status quo is fragile. Right now, nuclear weapons are still central to the security doctrines of powerful states. They are maintained, modernized, and prepared for use. The fact that the world continues to treat them as legitimate tools of national defence, even as we face rising geopolitical tensions, makes the risk of actual use much more real than people often realize.

What’s also overlooked is that the harm caused by nuclear weapons isn’t just hypothetical or historical. From uranium mining to nuclear testing, these weapons have already inflicted lasting damage. So, to me, the biggest misunderstanding is thinking of nuclear weapons as static relics of the Cold War. They are active parts of today’s global insecurity, and the longer we treat them as normal, the greater the risk becomes.

BM: You’ve spoken with young people here and back home. What have you learned about what resonates most with your generation when talking about peace and disarmament?

YF: I’ve noticed that many young people care deeply about global justice, but they don’t always see nuclear weapons as part of that conversation until the connections are made clear. When we talk about how nuclear weapons are tied to colonial histories and environmental destruction, or how uranium mining disproportionately impacts communities, the dangers of nuclear weapons start to resonate in a different way. The concern is no longer just about distant threats or abstract policy; it becomes about fairness, about whose lives are valued, and about systems of harm that are still active today.

I’ve also found that young people want more than symbolic language. When peace is discussed only in idealistic terms, it can feel disconnected from the realities we’re facing. But when we talk about peace as something that requires structural change that challenges the normalization of violence and militarization, it sparks real engagement.

I’ve seen how young people respond when they’re given space to reflect, ask questions, and see themselves as part of the conversation. And they start feeling a sense of urgency because they understand that the system we’ve inherited is not sustainable. I believe that peace and disarmament are not abstract ideals, but part of a broader struggle for justice that we have both the right and the responsibility to shape.

BM: This work can be heavy at times. What gives you hope when you think about the future of nuclear disarmament? Are there any small signs of change that inspire you?

YF: Yes, this work can be emotionally heavy at times. But what truly sustains me is the shared commitment I see in the people around me. At Project Ploughshares, I’ve witnessed how powerful it can be to work alongside others who are equally passionate about the cause. It’s inspiring to see how our collective efforts — whether through research, policy advocacy, or public outreach — contribute to a larger movement that refuses to forget the human cost of nuclear weapons. This work may be slow, but it is persistent. The quiet yet vital contributions of individuals who share this common mission give me confidence and remind me that even small actions can create ripples of change.

What also fuels my hope is the way in which the conversation about nuclear disarmament is evolving. Over time, there has been a significant shift from a purely strategic, security-centred conversation to one that more seriously incorporates the voices of those most affected. The inclusion of victim assistance and environmental restoration in the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons (TPNW) is one example, and it shows a more human-centred understanding of what disarmament should entail.

Sometimes hope is found in the most unexpected places, in the strength of a survivor’s testimony, or in the moments of collaboration with colleagues who share your passion. It reminds me that this is not just a political struggle; through solidarity and shared purpose, we begin to pave the way for a more peaceful future.

BM: What simple action would you recommend for a young person who wants to do something about nuclear weapons but doesn’t know where to start?

YF: I believe the most meaningful place to begin is with listening not only to facts or policy debates but to the lived experiences of those most impacted. Hibakusha, communities affected by testing, those who have fought for recognition and justice — these voices offer more than history. They offer a way of seeing the world that invites responsibility, humility, and care.

Too often, we are made to feel that action must be immediate or visible to be valid. But the work of peace often begins quietly: in how we choose to remember, in how we reflect, and in how we carry the stories and struggles of others with care and integrity. From this foundation, engagement can take many forms — through writing, education, organizing, or creating space for dialogue in our own communities.

Disarmament is not the responsibility of experts alone. It is collective work rooted in solidarity, historical awareness, and long-term commitment to justice. If you are guided by compassion, curiosity, and the willingness to learn with others, then you are already part of this broader effort. So, rather than asking what you can do alone, ask: Who can I listen? Who can I stand alongside? I believe that this is where meaningful change begins.

BM: As we mark 80 years since the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, what do you most want Canadians — and the world — to remember or do differently?

YF: I believe what is most needed is not only remembrance, but reflection that leads to responsibility. The legacy of Hiroshima and Nagasaki should not be confined to annual ceremonies but should serve as a lens through which we critically examine how security is defined, whose lives are protected, and whose experiences are left out of mainstream narratives.

For Canadians, and for the international community more broadly, this anniversary is an opportunity to assess our roles within the global nuclear order. This includes reflecting on Canada’s historical contributions to the development of nuclear weapons through uranium extraction as well as its current position within NATO, which continues to rely on nuclear deterrence. Canada’s continued hesitation to engage meaningfully with the TPNW reflects a broader reluctance to reconcile commemoration with concrete policy commitments.

It is important to remember that hibakusha have consistently called for action: for nuclear disarmament grounded in human dignity, for recognition of ongoing harm, and for inclusive policymaking. To truly honour Hiroshima and Nagasaki today requires more than an expression of regret. It demands political will, ethical clarity, and a sustained commitment to addressing the structural injustices that have allowed nuclear weapons to persist. Peace cannot be built on memory; it must be built on shared responsibility.

BM: When you’re not researching nuclear disarmament, what do you enjoy doing that helps you feel peaceful or hopeful?

YF: When I step away from research, I often find grounding in nature. Walking through forests, hiking along quiet trails, and listening to the sounds of wind, water, birds help me reconnect with a sense of calm and perspective. In those still moments, I’m reminded that the world we are trying to protect is already full of beauty and resilience and that peace isn’t just a vision, but something we can observe and learn from in the everyday.

Nature also reminds me that change doesn’t always happen quickly or visibly. It happens quietly, season by season, through steady growth, through care, and through connection. And in the same way, I’ve come to value the people around me with whom I share a sense of purpose, even if we’re contributing in different ways. Whether through friendship or collaboration, there is something powerful about walking alongside others who are also trying to live with integrity and hope.

For anyone feeling uncertain about their place, I’d say: Start by noticing what is already around you, the people who care for you, the places that bring you stillness, the values that keep you grounded. I do believe that there is strength in choosing to care, in appreciating those who walk with you, and in trusting that even small, thoughtful acts can move us closer to the world we hope to build.

BM: Yui, your reflections remind us that the stories of Hiroshima and Nagasaki are not just episodes in a history book. They are calls for a world without nuclear weapons. As we mark this solemn anniversary, your words challenge us to listen to survivors, to pass on their lessons, and to act with courage to ensure that future generations never endure the horrors of nuclear war. Yui, thank you so much.

Photo: Nagasaki hibakusha and peace advocate Terumi Kuramori speaks at Simon Fraser University this summer. Researcher Yui Fujiki supports a human-centred approach to nuclear disarmament. Photo by Yui Fujiki

Published in The Ploughshares Monitor Autumn 2025