Three “Stops” Overlapping in Summer

In the summer of 2026, three things came to a halt simultaneously in Hiroshima.

A sparrow built a nest in the “Peace Bell” at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park, rendering the bell unringable. Tomoyuki Minomaki (94), the chairman of the Hiroshima Prefectural Atomic Bomb Survivors Association, expressed his intention to resign due to health reasons. Meanwhile, the NPT (Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty) Review Conference, which concluded in May, ended without adopting a final document for the third time.

The bell stops. A person steps down. An agreement collapses—these events occurred in separate contexts, but when viewed together, they raise a single question: Who is currently operating the mechanisms that have supported Hiroshima’s “memory of peace,” and is that mechanism capable of being passed on to the next generation?

The “Living Beings” that Stopped the Bell

Since its installation in 1964, the Peace Bell has produced a “sound of prayer” as visitors strike it with their own hands for over 60 years. The surface of the bell is cast with a world map without borders, and the striking area is engraved with a nuclear power symbol. In the Peace Memorial Park, which attracts approximately 1.4 million visitors annually, this bell has functioned as a “prayer device that anyone can participate in.”

In June of this year, it was confirmed that a sparrow had built a nest inside the bell. The city of Hiroshima decided to suspend the use of the bell until the chicks fledged, in accordance with the Wildlife Protection and Management Law, which generally prohibits the removal of nests of wild birds during nesting without permission. The city’s decision aligns with legal regulations.

It is worth pausing to consider the structure of this “stopping.” The bell was not halted due to aging or budget constraints, but rather by the activities of living beings. The peace mechanism temporarily pauses due to laws that protect life—this is not a contradiction but rather a coherent ethical stance. A bell meant to mourn lives prioritizes the lives in front of it by falling silent. Within that silence, the meaning of peace is further layered.

However, the essence of the issue does not lie in the fact that the bell has stopped. What happens to the flow of visitors’ prayers while the bell is silent? Are there alternative pathways or guidance provided? When one mechanism stops, is there a system in place to compensate for it?—the strength of the transmission is reflected in these considerations.

What Lies Behind Mr. Minomaki’s Departure

Tomoyuki Minomaki was exposed to the atomic bomb in Hiroshima when he was just three years old. As the chairman of the Hiroshima Prefectural Atomic Bomb Survivors Association, he has continued to share testimonies both domestically and internationally, and he also attended the 2024 Nobel Peace Prize ceremony as a representative of the association.

In June 2026, Mr. Minomaki indicated his intention to resign due to health issues. While a former director of the Atomic Bomb Museum has been mentioned as a potential successor, no formal decision has been made yet.

What is noteworthy here is not just Mr. Minomaki’s individual achievements. As of the 2025 fiscal year, the average age of atomic bomb survivors has exceeded 85. According to statistics from the Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare, the number of holders of the Atomic Bomb Survivor Health Handbook was approximately 106,000 as of the end of March 2024, a reduction of over 70% from the peak of about 370,000 in the 1980s. The physical absence of those who can share testimonies—this is a structural issue of time that cannot be resolved by mere “effort.”

In recent interviews, Mr. Minomaki has repeatedly expressed, “Even when we are no longer here, we must ensure that the memory remains.” This statement is both a declaration of personal will and a challenge to the system. While it is people who “preserve” memories, it is systems, organizations, and the design of archives that ensure they “continue to remain.”

Within the association, efforts have been made to involve the second and third generations of survivors and to collaborate with the successor system (the “Atomic Bomb Experience Successor” training program initiated by Hiroshima City in 2012). Approximately 200 successors have been certified, and they conduct hundreds of talks annually. However, successors are primarily “narrators” and do not participate in decision-making or external negotiations as representatives of the association. The transmission of leadership and the transmission of memory, while similar, require different circuits.

NPT Collapse—When the “Outer Framework” Comes Off

In May 2026, the NPT Review Conference held at the United Nations headquarters in New York concluded without adopting a final document after about four weeks of negotiations. The final draft failed to bridge the gap between nuclear-armed and non-nuclear states regarding specific timelines for nuclear disarmament and the handling of the Middle East Nuclear-Weapon-Free Zone. This marks the third time the NPT Review Conference has failed to adopt a final document, following 2005 and 2015.

After the conclusion, Hiroshima Mayor Kazumi Matsui commented, “It is extremely disappointing as a city that has experienced the atomic bombing.” Hiroshima Prefectural Governor Hidehiko Yuzaki also issued a similar statement.

Since its inception in 1970, the NPT has supported the international order with its three pillars of nuclear disarmament, non-proliferation, and peaceful use, while assuming an asymmetric structure between “nuclear-armed states” and “non-nuclear states.” The dysfunction of the Review Conference is not merely a “diplomatic news” for Hiroshima’s peace movement. It signifies the blockage of the “exit”—the place where the testimonies of survivors and the prayers of citizens should ultimately reach—of international consensus-building.

In other words, Hiroshima’s peace transmission mechanism has a three-layer structure. The first layer consists of “places and objects” such as bells, monuments, and museums. The second layer includes “people and organizations” like survivors and successors. The third layer encompasses “international frameworks” such as the NPT and the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons (TPNW). In the summer of 2026, these three layers are simultaneously shaking for different reasons.

The Question of “Who Benefits”

When discussing the transmission of peace, the phrase “passing it on to the next generation” is often used. However, it is rarely questioned whether the design takes into account the burdens on those who are to receive it.

Taking the successor system as an example, certified successors are required to convey the experiences of survivors in “their own words.” This preparation takes several years and carries significant mental burdens. While the system exists, the compensation structure supporting the activities of successors and the care mechanisms to prevent burnout are not adequate.

Mr. Minomaki’s resignation highlights the structural reality that “a transmission dependent on someone’s dedication becomes unstable the moment that person steps down.” This is akin to the bell stopping. When one mechanism halts, the redundancy that prevents the entire system from stopping—that is the strength of the mechanism.

In the fiscal year 2025, Hiroshima City has allocated approximately 1.2 billion yen for peace promotion-related budgets. This includes the operation of the Peace Memorial Museum, preservation of atomic bombed buildings, participation in international conferences, and training of successors. While these functions operate individually, whether they are integrated under a design philosophy that allows “if one stops, another circuit continues to operate” requires further verification.

When the Bell Rings Again

The sparrows will eventually fledge. The bell will ring again. However, Mr. Minomaki’s voice will not return. The next NPT Review Conference may not be held until 2031.

Of the three “stops,” only one will naturally resume. The remaining two will not move unless redesigned by people.

The memory of peace remains not because someone continues to speak, but because there is a mechanism that allows it to remain even when it can no longer be spoken. The simultaneous shaking of Hiroshima’s transmission mechanism is both a crisis and an opportunity to reconsider its design.

Mr. Minomaki said, “Even when we are no longer here, we must ensure that the memory remains”—this statement should not be treated as a personal testament. The next transmission begins with reinterpreting it as a blueprint for the system.