杏吧原创

SOME people trek to Machu Picchu, some dive on the Great Barrier Reef. Those of us interested in nuclear issues visit the monuments and precincts of the Bomb. Such are husband-and-wife journalists Nathan Hodge and . On their 鈥渘uclear family vacation鈥�, they found the neighbourhoods seedy and the natives discouraged. The vast nuclear complexes of the US and former Soviet Union, having lost their cold war purpose, have gone astray, and no government has yet articulated a future for them more credible than their elimination.

As someone who writes about nuclear history, I found suffused with d茅j脿 vu. In 2006, Hodge and Weinberger felt the sting of Russian physicist and nuclear hardliner Viktor Mikhailov鈥檚 sarcasm 鈥� in response to the authors鈥� request to interview Russian weapons scientists he asks, 鈥淲hat would you have to talk about with them? 鈥榃hat鈥檚 your house like?鈥� 鈥楧o you have a family?'鈥� 鈥� just as I did in 1992. I too had been seeking Mikhailov鈥檚 permission to visit , a secret city at the heart of Russia鈥檚 nuclear complex 鈥� none of us succeeded. In my case, Mikhailov made arrangements to fly three senior physicists from Sarov to Moscow so that I could interview them, but a KGB keeper watched over us as we talked.

What is going on in Sarov today isn鈥檛 clear, but visiting its US counterpart, the Los Alamos National Laboratory near Santa Fe, New Mexico, Hodge and Weinberger discovered confusion, job anxiety and despair. Some new 鈥渉omeland security鈥� work has come to what was once America鈥檚 premier nuclear weapons laboratory, but the end of nuclear testing and new weapons development have battered both mission and morale. In 1994, the US nuclear weapons labs struck a bargain with President Clinton: the labs agreed to stop nuclear weapons testing in exchange for a multibillion-dollar 鈥渟tockpile stewardship鈥� programme to annually certify the viability of their stockpile. The stockpile remains viable, but the laboratories continue to decline.

So does the US missile complex. Many missile silos across the northern plains remain active, and the authors found that two-person teams of air force officers still sit waiting deep underground in their doomsday consoles, swearing that if the order comes, they will turn the key to launch the missiles. But the crews are discontented, 鈥渟triving for a way to make sense of their job鈥� and 鈥渢rying to hang onto deterrence as the rationale鈥�, despite the fact that a deterrence policy makes little sense now that Russia is no longer the enemy and the missiles have been de-targeted.

鈥淥fficers still wait underground in their doomsday consoles鈥�

As abandoned bunkers and weapons sites crumble, tourism is beginning to boom. Tourist buses ply the former underground test site in Nevada at Yucca Flats; in decommissioned missile silos tourists are allowed to turn the launch keys. Tours of the 鈥� 鈥渢he most contaminated place in North America鈥� 鈥� are overbooked. Even Kazakhstan let Hodge and Weinberger in on its preparations for nuclear tourism, an industry the Chinese also plan to embrace.

The rise of is testimony to the anachronistic condition of the atomic world. A US Air Force Academy instructor let Hodge and Weinberger tag along with a group of cadets he was shepherding through the nuclear south-west. He was trying to persuade the students to choose nuclear military careers, but admitted that nuclear weaponeers were 鈥渁 dying breed鈥�. Nowhere did the authors find anyone 鈥渨ho could articulate what the current role of the nuclear arsenal is, or should be鈥�. The question floats along unanswered, 鈥渓ike a ghost ship lost at sea鈥�.

But the ghost ship鈥檚 hold is packed with powder kegs. Nuclear weapons are still dangerous, perhaps all the more so for having lost their purpose (if they ever had one). The authors mention, but leave unexplored, renewed initiatives to eliminate the useless, deadly arsenals. These initiatives, once touted by protesting citizens, are now sponsored by pre-eminent cold warriors. 鈥淢aybe the goal of zero nuclear weapons will never be reached,鈥� the dusty vacationers conclude, 鈥渂ut it鈥檚 a far better goal than none at all鈥�.