Monday is Victory Day in Rhode Island — a holiday worth reconsidering – The Boston Globe

Rhode Island is the only state in the nation that observes a holiday to commemorate the victory over Japan in World War II. Now there’s a fierce debate about the holiday.

Victory Day, the second Monday in August, honors the estimated 92,000 Rhode Islanders who served in the war and the more than 2,200 of them who were killed. Rhode Island first adopted the holiday in 1948. Arkansas adopted Victory Day as a state holiday in 1949 but abandoned it 1975, choosing to give state workers a day off for their birthdays instead.

A Democratic state lawmaker in Rhode Island, Jennifer Stewart, introduced legislation this year to change Victory Day to Peace and Remembrance Day. She has been accused of dishonoring World War II veterans. “I think this is an atrocity that you’re taking away the honor and bravery that those men and women deserve,” state Representative Patricia Morgan said at a State House hearing. “What they did was honorable and not something that should be criticized.”

Stewart counters that she wants to honor the sacrifices of the past while establishing a more peaceful future. The holiday’s association with victory over Japan “belies the harsh truth that military victories are often built on civilian injury and death,” Stewart says.

As a Rhode Island native, I’ve lived on both sides of the debate.

I came of age marching in V-J Day parades in downtown Providence with my dad, a World War II Army veteran who advanced to the rank of major after serving four years in the China-India-Burma theater. Every August he’d wear his military uniform, I my Boy Scout khakis. The atomic bombs that the United States used to decimate Hiroshima and Nagasaki meant my father’s life had been spared from being summoned into further combat. It meant we had won against Japanese aggressors who had masterminded the murderous attack on Pearl Harbor. When I marched alongside my dad on Victory Day, I was convinced the Japanese got what they deserved.

But as an adult and a newspaper editor, my opinion changed: I met Sakue Shimohira, who was an 8-year-old girl when the second atomic bomb fell on Nagasaki and still suffered from radiation sickness as an adult.

“I remember how the houses were all blown to bits,” she said at a lecture in Providence. “In the river, the water was gone and there were many dead bodies. I found my eldest sister dead under the rubble. My mother was missing. I found her later that day. I recognized her body by her gold tooth. I touched her body and it disintegrated into ashes.”

After I reported on her speech, she asked me to mail her a copy. A month later she wrote to me, urging me to apply for a journalism fellowship, a 10-week residence in Japan to interview survivors like her, known in Japan as “hibakusha.” The fellowship was sponsored by the Hiroshima region’s daily newspaper, Chugoku Shimbun, and named the Akiba Project after Tad Akiba, a Tufts University professor who was later elected mayor of Hiroshima.

I was selected for the fellowship. One of the members of the selection panel was the author John Hersey, whose first-person account of traveling to Hiroshima appeared in The New Yorker in 1946. He told me his life had been forever changed when he interviewed the survivors. He said that I should expect the same.

Hersey was right. I am still haunted, especially when Victory Day rolls around each year, by the testimonies I heard during my 10-week residency in Japan. Even if I believed Japan’s leaders had brought on the carnage and hellfires that consumed Japanese civilians, how could I ever come to terms with the radiation sickness that plagued people like Sakue Shimohira throughout their lives?

Yet it is not only what the survivors told me they witnessed that continues to disturb me. It’s the fact that nuclear weapons still exist — and more are being developed by rogue nations such as Iran and North Korea. As Tad Akiba has argued, the only way to prevent a nuclear attack “is the total abolition of nuclear weapons.”

This level of awareness is what Stewart hopes to promote by renaming Victory Day. Her bill failed to pass in the 2024 legislative session, but she says she will keep pushing the bill if she wins reelection this fall.

“I intend to play the long game. Rhode Island is a forward-thinking state. We changed the name of our state four years ago,” she told me, referring to the 2020 referendum in which Rhode Islanders voted to remove “and Providence Plantations” from the state’s name.

“We can do that again with V-J Day. What happens here can influence our nation. Judging on the positive responses I’ve received, I believe we will succeed.”

Robert Israel is a Boston-based writer and a contributor to Harvard University’s Divinity School Bulletin. He can be reached at risrael_97@yahoo.com.