Hiroshima

Hiroshima, perched on the western coast of Honshu at the mouth of the Ōta River, stands today as both a testament to human resilience and a vibrant modern metropolis. Established in 1589 when the warlord Mori Terumoto constructed a castle on the fertile delta, the settlement that grew around it gradually assumed the character of a samurai town. Following the decisive Battle of Sekigahara in 1600, the Asano clan took stewardship of the city, guiding it through more than two centuries of relative peace. Under their rule, Hiroshima retained its strategic importance without enduring major conflict, its population swelling modestly as agriculture and riverine trade sustained the local economy.

The Meiji Restoration of 1868 propelled Hiroshima into a new era. As Japan embraced rapid industrialization, the city’s position on the Seto Inland Sea and its inland waterways facilitated the rise of shipyards, munitions factories, and heavy industry. By 1889, when Hiroshima was formally designated a city, its streets were lined with modern brick buildings, and rail connections linked it to Tokyo and Osaka. Military installations and barracks proliferated, reflecting the city’s growing role as a hub of imperial defense. During the First Sino‑Japanese War (1894–1895) and the Russo‑Japanese War (1904–1905), Hiroshima served as a staging ground for troops and materiel, while its factories produced arms and ordnance. By the eve of the Pacific War, the city had expanded to more than 360,000 inhabitants, peaking at over 419,000 in 1942.

On the morning of August 6, 1945, at precisely 8:15 a.m., the United States Army Air Forces dropped “Little Boy,” the first atomic weapon ever used in conflict, upon Hiroshima. Constructed largely of wood and paper, the city offered little protection against the blast and ensuing fires. Within seconds, tens of thousands were killed outright; by year’s end, estimates of the death toll ranged from 90,000 to upwards of 166,000, many succumbing later to radiation‑related illnesses such as anemia, cancers, and organ failure. The landscape was transformed into an ashen plain, punctuated by twisted steel and the scant handful of reinforced concrete structures that withstood the shock. In the weeks that followed, survivors—known as hibakusha—endured “black rain” laced with radioactive particles, then faced stigma and discrimination even as they bore witness to the necessity of peace.

Reconstruction was neither swift nor straightforward. In the immediate post‑war years, black markets emerged, and basic necessities were scarce. Yet Hiroshima’s citizens embraced the task of rebuilding with determination. By 1955, the city’s population had returned to its pre‑war levels, and industry—anchored by Mazda, whose headquarters would later stand nearby—resumed production. Municipal leaders and community groups fashioned the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park on the ruins that lay closest to ground zero, preserving the skeletal framework of the former Prefectural Industrial Promotion Hall as the “Genbaku Dome.” Surrounding it, memorials honor children, victims, and the global campaign against nuclear weapons. Each August 6, a solemn ceremony gathers dignitaries and ordinary citizens alike, renewing a pledge that humanity will never again witness such devastation.

Today, Hiroshima ranks as the largest city in the Chūgoku region, its urban employment area generating some US$61.3 billion in GDP as of 2010. By mid‑2019, the municipal population approached 1.2 million, spread across nearly 905 square kilometres, with a density of roughly 1,320 persons per km². A humid subtropical climate moderates life here: winters remain mild, summers hot and humid, and rainfall distributes fairly evenly through the seasons, peaking with the early summer “tsuyu” rains in June and July. August, buffered by seasonal lag, often proves the sunniest and driest month.

Transportation in Hiroshima underscores the city’s blend of tradition and modernity. The Hiroshima Electric Railway—colloquially “Hiroden”—first began streetcar service in 1912 and, after resuming operation just three days after the atomic bombing, has grown into Japan’s largest tram network. Aged cars 651 and 652, survivors of the 1945 blast, still ply the city’s boulevards, their riveted steel bodies a rolling link to the past. Today, Hiroden operates seven lines—including the Main, Ujina, and Miyajima lines—and maintains nearly 300 streetcars. JR Hiroshima Station anchors the nation’s high‑speed Shinkansen system, while Hiroshima Airport, 50 kilometres to the east, and Iwakuni Kintaikyo Airport, 43 kilometres to the southwest, connect the city both domestically and internationally.

Cultural life in Hiroshima flourishes around its museums, gardens, and festivals. The Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum offers a meticulous chronicle of the bombing’s effects, while the Hiroshima Museum of Art displays French Renaissance and 19th‑century European works. Nearby, the Prefectural Art Museum overlooks the refined ponds and winding paths of Shukkei‑en, a historic garden perfected during the Edo period. Contemporary sensibilities find expression at the Hiroshima City Museum of Contemporary Art, nestled beside Hijiyama Park. Each spring, the Hiroshima Flower Festival enlivens the streets with parades, music, and floral installations; in autumn, the International Film Festival screens works from across the globe. From 1985 until 2020, the city hosted a biennial Animation Festival, drawing animators and enthusiasts to celebrate the medium’s creative possibilities.

Hiroshima’s culinary identity reflects both its coastal geography and its industrial character. Foremost is Hiroshima‑style okonomiyaki, a layered pancake of egg, cabbage, sprouts, sliced pork or seafood, and noodles, griddled before the diner and topped with a robust sweet–savory sauce. Unlike the Osaka version, in which ingredients are mixed, Hiroshima’s approach assembles them in stratified tiers, coaxing a crisp interplay between tender cabbage and charred batter. Encouraged by the city’s numerous okonomiyaki bars, where patrons may order green tea, sake, or local brews alongside their meal, this dish has become synonymous with Hiroshima’s convivial spirit.

Sporting allegiances run deep here as well. Sanfrecce Hiroshima, the city’s premier professional football club, traces its lineage to the Toyo Kogyo Soccer Club, which dominated the Japan Soccer League in the 1960s. Rechristened in 1992, Sanfrecce captured the J.League championship in 2012, 2013, and 2015 before embarking on campaigns in continental competition. The women’s side, Angeviolet Hiroshima, competes regionally, while defunct clubs such as Rijo Shukyu FC—Emperor’s Cup winners in 1924 and 1925—remain part of the local football lore.

Tourism has blossomed over recent decades. In 2012, roughly 360,000 foreign visitors arrived, predominantly from the United States, Australia, and China; by 2016, that figure had tripled to 1.18 million. Americans still comprise the largest contingent, followed by Australians, Italians, and Britons. While many come to pay respects at the Peace Park and the Genbaku Dome, others venture to the city’s rebuilt castle (nicknamed Rijō) to explore life in Edo‑period Japan, or to the tranquil shrines scattered throughout Naka‑ku, such as Fudōin and Mitaki‑dera. A fifteen‑minute ferry ride from Hiroshima port delivers visitors to Itsukushima Island—more familiarly Miyajima—where the vermilion torii gate appears to float at high tide.

Practicalities for travelers are straightforward. JR Hiroshima Station offers coin lockers and two tourist information offices—on the south side’s first floor and the north side’s second. From the Shinkansen exit, an underground passage leads to taxis, trams, and buses bound for the Peace Park. The Hiroshima Bus Center, perched atop the SOGO department store near Hatchobori, provides additional routes and conveniences. Addresses in Minami‑ku cluster around the station, whereas Naka‑ku encompasses the Peace Park and its environs.

Hiroshima’s reputation among Japanese often evokes scenes from yakuza films, yet the reality is one of safety and courtesy. Petty crime is rare; even in Nagarekawa, the nighttime entertainment district, visitors may encounter hostess bars and clubs upholding local ordinances. Occasional police inspections under “public immorality” statutes may delay foreigners for identity checks, but such encounters almost invariably conclude without incident. Residents, many of whom count hibakusha among their elders, generally refrain from broaching the bombing unprompted, though they welcome respectful conversation.

For those tasting Hiroshima for the first time—stepping from gleaming trains into tree‑lined avenues, or watching streetcars shunt past neon signs—the city may appear entirely conventional. Yet, its tranquil temples, verdant parks, and stately boulevards rest upon layers of history both graceful and tragic. In Hiroshima, the delicate interplay between remembrance and renewal endures: a place where each sunrise confirms life’s persistence, and each memorial stone reminds us of loss endured so that the future might choose peace.