NUCLEAR DUMMIES

What do you think of when you see the name “MAD”? If
you're a baby boomer, you may come up with a mental
image of the offbeat magazine whose banner child,
Afred E. Neuman, typically flashes his “What, me
worry?” grin from the cover.
The 1950s spawned another MAD, however, and it lends
a certain irony to Alfred E. Neuman's perennial
question. As the back cover of one issue of the
magazine showed, even the imperturbable Neuman
worried about what would happen if nuclear power were
allowed to run amok. Indeed, thanks to a military
strategy known as Mutual Assured Destruction—the
MAD doctrine—the whole world had plenty to worry
about.
Originally touted as a means to deter the Soviet Union
from advancing on Europe, MAD designers believed a
systematic plan to counter the USSR's superior
conventional forces with nuclear force would prevent an
invasion. Military experts at the time theorized that the
scenario of all-out nuclear war between the United
States and the Soviets would lead to a stalemate and
thus deterrence. And as history played out over the next
30 years, fear of mutual destruction did produce military
stalemate.
In that sense, MAD worked. But as MAD magazine
back-page fold-ins demonstrated, a pleasant
neighborhood scene could be converted to a wasteland
under a mushroom cloud in an instant. Nuclear
annihilation was for decades a mere 30-minute ICBM
flight away. This naturally took its psychological toll.
The MAD plan also took a physical toll, however, and it
affects us still today. Incidents of devastating nuclear
pollution are only now being revealed, and the resulting
loss of life has been as staggering as in many wars.
MUSHROOMING CRISIS
In the past few years, reports have begun to emerge
from Kazakhstan about the plight of millions of people
who have been contaminated by soviet nuclear testing
over the past 50 years. The medical crisis that the
region is experiencing amounts to nothing short of a
catastrophe.
Kazakhstan occupies a vast territory between Russia
and China and is a former soviet republic. In 1949, one
of the largest nuclear test sites in the world was
established in its Semipalatinsk region. Since then, close
to 500 nuclear tests have been conducted. The
consequences of these explosions are no less
devastating than those of Chernobyl (see “Chernobyl:
The Fallout Continues”)— or Hiroshima and Nagasaki—
with perhaps as many as 1.6 million people becoming
victims.
Boris Gusev of the Institute of Radioactive Medicine told
a BBC reporter: “The contamination spread over
thousands of kilometers. There’s nowhere else like this
in the world. Japan? Nevada? Forget it! It’s equivalent
to 1,000 times the impact of the Hiroshima bomb.” The
doctor added, “This is a unique situation and we need
help.”
More than 100 of the early tests were conducted above
ground, but the local population was not warned of the
danger of exposure; in fact, the authorities often ordered
them to stand outside and watch the mushroom clouds
ascend into the sky. The people didn’t know that
because of the need for data on the effects of radiation
on humans, they were actually part of the experiment.
The enormity of the story is only now unfolding because
of the time it takes for radiation exposure to develop
into various cancers. An epidemic proportion of old
people are currently dying of that disease, and the local
hospitals are stretched to take care of them. Some of
the doctors have not been paid for months, and
supplies, medicine and equipment to deal with the
tragedy are scarce.
Doctors are very troubled by the lasting effects of the
contamination. Deformities among newborn children are
increasingly common. From every village in the region
come reports of babies and children with terrible
disfigurements, stunted growth, extra fingers and toes,
blindness or hideous tumors. Many distraught parents
are simply abandoning their newborn offspring, bringing
even more stress on the medical infrastructure.
The soviet nuclear program is gone from Kazakhstan
now, as is the statue of Lenin that used to stand in the
Semipalatinsk town center. But the people will
remember for a long time that the soviet regime was
there.
LIGHTHOUSE OF DEATH
Semipalatinsk isn’t alone. Fifty miles north of
Chelyabinsk, Russia, on the western edge of Siberia, lies
an industrial complex. It was the Soviet Union’s primary
nuclear weapons production facility from 1946 until
1990. Its name, Mayak, means “lighthouse”—ironic,
considering that officially it did not exist.
Three nuclear disasters took place at Mayak. Taken
together, they were 100 times worse than the disaster
at Chernobyl, say some reports. According to
investigative reporter Mark Hertsgaard, author of Earth
Odyssey (1999), both the KGB and the CIA kept these
events secret from the world, and even from the Russian
people.
Thomas Cochran, a nuclear physicist at the Natural
Resources Defense Council in Washington, D.C., called
Mayak “the most polluted spot on earth.” And a report
commissioned by Mikhail Gorbachev called Chelyabinsk
the cancer capital of the entire Soviet Union. Nuclear
contamination was only the latest pollution to poison an
area already heavily polluted by outmoded industrial
facilities.
The first of the three disasters was a result of deliberate
policy. From 1949 to 1956, 76 million cubic meters of
liquid radioactive waste was systematically dumped into
the nearby Techa River. People in the 24 villages that
lined the river were not told of the dangers of drinking
its water until four years after contamination began. As
a result, tens of thousands received doses of radiation
four times greater than those that were subsequently
received at Chernobyl. Average individual doses for the
28,000 people most acutely exposed were 57 times
greater, wrote Hertsgaard.
The next tragedy took place in 1957 when a nuclear
waste storage tank at Mayak exploded, spewing about
80 metric tons of waste into the sky and irradiating
more than a quarter of a million people. Ninety percent
of the radioactive debris fell straight back to earth, but
the remainder severely contaminated the air, water and
soil in the entire Chelyabinsk region.
In 1967 a third disaster occurred, but its cause goes
back to 1951 when Mayak officials, realizing they should
no longer use the Techa River to dump waste, started
pouring it into Lake Karachay. Drought had severely
reduced the water level in the lake by 1967, leaving a
layer of radioactive silt on the exposed lakebed. When
unusually heavy winds blew through the area, the
contaminated dust was dispersed over thousands of
square miles, exposing nearly half a million people to
high levels of radiation.
Until 1989, officials continued to deny that these
disasters had taken place, and it will never be known
how many people have died as a direct result. As with
Chernobyl, the aftereffects of radiation sickness will
blight and kill successive generations for years after
exposure to the pollution.
WHAT HAVE WE DONE?
The 20th century was unique for its nuclear
development. Incredible technological progress of all
kinds brought unparalleled benefits to the human race.
But throughout the developed world the dark side of our
technological advances brought on horrors that previous
generations could never have imagined. The 21st
century has inherited a legacy of intractable problems
that largely defy solutions—such as those at
Semipalatinsk and Mayak. How is all that nuclear
pollution ever going to be cleaned up?
Former soviet president Gorbachev in 1993 created
Green Cross International, in part to address such
problems as nuclear waste and contaminated
landscapes. Nevertheless, nations will long suffer the
radioactive legacy that was created in the name of
peace. In an effort to preclude war, governments have
killed their own citizens. And since radioisotopes travel
the planet within its atmosphere, they have
contaminated, to one degree or another, all life on
Earth.
Global economic success over the past few years may
have given the world a false sense of security. In this
new millennium, science could well create technologies
that would dwarf the destructive aspects of nuclear
development.
Alfred E. Neuman is probably resting easier now that
the Cold War has ended, and with it the MAD doctrine of
nuclear stalemate. But nuclear accidents remain a
distinct possibility; and nuclear proliferation, along with
the growing prospect of nuclear terrorism, still casts a
pall over human consciousness. Remembering what
happened in places like Kazakhstan and Chelyabinsk
should give us pause for thought. What have we done
to ourselves?
“What, me worry?” Actually, a bit of angst may motivate
people to make wiser decisions with regard to such
powerful technologies. But will it be enough?