TOKYO (AP) – The images still have the power to shock.
Dazed survivors walk beneath huge sea tankers dropped amid an expanse of debris and twisted iron that was once a busy downtown, the ships fell on their sides like children’s toys. Grieving survivors peck through the squashed rubble where their homes used to be. Abandoned farms stand in the shadow of the Fukushima nuclear power plant, where a catastrophic meltdown continues to reverberate.
These gripping images were taken by The Associated Press in 2011 after a massive wall of water leveled part of Japan’s northeastern coastline, washing away cars, houses, office buildings and thousands of people.
Ten years later, AP journalists have returned to document the communities torn apart by what is here simply referred to as the Great East Japan Earthquake. The drive to rebuild in a country ravaged by millennia of disaster – volcanic eruptions, tsunamis, earthquakes, war and famine – is strong, and there are areas with little or no trace of the 2011 devastation.
But this triple disaster in Japan’s Tohoku region – earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear meltdown – was unlike any other Japan has ever experienced, and the challenges of getting back to what was normal a decade ago were immense. Half a million were driven from their homes; Tens of thousands have not returned and have emptied cities that were already struggling to keep their youngsters from leaving for Tokyo and the other megacities. Fear of radiation lingers. Government incompetence, minor bickering and bureaucratic bickering have slowed construction efforts.
Despite the setbacks and uneven progress, the 2021 Tohoku is a testament to a collective willpower – national, local and personal. Take a closer look, however, and you will see that even the most breathtaking transformations carry the residue of what happened in 2011, the scars from that deep wound to the psyche of the region.
These AP images from then and now raise a fundamental question: How do you mark change after a major trauma?
In a way, it’s the easiest in the world to describe. The removal of tons of debris here, the absence of overturned tankers there. The paved roads where there had previously been cracked and bent piles of asphalt. The shiny new buildings that now rise above what had been tidied up dirt.
But the starkness of this physical change also brings with it the idea of something much less clear-cut, something about the people who live in these places. Their resilience, their stoicism, their grief and anger and stubborn refusal to bow to forces beyond their control, both natural and bureaucratic.
All that, and more, is present in these powerful scenes from before and after, then and now.
The photos tell the story – of great change and the people who made it happen.