If, by some phenomena from the mind of Serling or Wells, I was whisked away to 1945, placed in the United States presidency, and stripped of all my twenty-first century hindsight in a temporary time travel lobotomy of sorts, I can say with all honesty I probably would have dropped the atomic bombs on Japan.
I don't mean to boast about my lack of omnipotence or exceeding holiness. But the fact is I don't have the delusion I'm so progressive that, put in Harry Truman's place, I'd have refused to unleash such hideous and unprecedented destruction on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. With an obstinate enemy refusing to surrender, prolonging a war that had already cost millions of lives, with the possibility of more offensives and operations that would cost more, with a world economy suffering from the mass carnage, and with Stalin and the Soviets eyeing my every move, I'd have been ready and willing – and desperate enough – to drop the bombs if I thought doing so would end such a bloody war.
I'd have been right: Hirohito signed a surrender half a month after the atomic bombs made ashes and rubble of those two cities. I'd have been right, and I'd have been glad. But just as I have no delusion I'd have been a conscientious objector objector to atomic warfare, I don't have the notion that I'd have been in a mood for rejoicing; I know, or at least I hope I know, that it would have been a decision that made my guts churn, my heart turn upside down, and made sleep impossible for nights on end. I may not be as pure as those who maintain they'd have eschewed with disgust the atomic option, but I do believe I'd have been shaken to my core.
Harry Truman was the first U.S. President to meet Reverend Billy Graham. Of all the “celebrity evangelists,” so to speak, Billy Graham is widely respected as one who was sincere and genuine in his message, a man not motivated by personal gain or public persona. Yet even Harry Truman couldn't stand him. He found him to be a self-righteous, meddling, pious nuisance. Graham once asked him about his beliefs, to which Truman responded that he believed in the “Golden Rule,” and in the Beatitudes. Billy Graham responded, “That's not enough!” Truman was indignant.
As believer in the Christian doctrine, I know Billy Graham was right, as far as our doctrine concerning the salvation of one's eternal soul. But that's twenty-first century me who believes such. It's modern day me who “knows” that. If I were twentieth century Harry Truman, if I'd have just nuked two large cities, and was now burdened by a stalemate of a war in Korea, I'd have likely told Billy Graham – despite all my Christian convictions in the twenty-first century – to kindly stuff it. Or, more likely, to unkindly stuff it.
I don't doubt my ability to break Christian instruction any less than I doubt my willingness to destroy entire cities in 1945. I know, being the sinner I am, and without centuries of Biblical prophecy to aid the faith I have today, I'd have been among those who mocked Jesus when He was on the cross and slowly dying (and dying for me, no less). I know in my heart it would have taken the Day of Pentecost to change my mind.
It's no slight annoyance to hear those who are admittedly more pure and all-knowing than me – I'm truly jealous of their holiness – to muse about what they'd have done to end the war with Japan: a naval blockade, a small offensive here or there, or even negotiations. Imagine being so irresistibly holy that even World War II Japan would be compelled to sit with you at the negotiating table for a peaceful resolution.
We're kidding nobody. We'd have dropped the bombs. We may have even done worse given the chance to go back in time: we'd have segregated our restaurants and water fountains, refused women the vote, dismissed Joseph Lister and his theories about bacteria and handwashing. We might have even owned slaves.
I certainly hope if I'd been born in 1810 I'd have abhorred slavery. I hope I'd have had a pastor who taught the truth of Scripture and not twisted it for ugly white supremacist sermons. But I'm not without blemish; I wasn't born progressive with social justice in my chromosomes. Being raised in a racist environment that proclaimed owning Black men to be the right of the white man, I must face the possibility that I'd have been susceptible to the evils of the day.
Maybe I should keep all this in mind – Hiroshima, the South, the segregated water fountain – when I cringed at my ignorant grandfather for using the word “colored.” He wasn't born a modern day moral hero like you and me.
