An in-depth account of Great Britain’s atomic testing efforts in South Australia in the 1950s and ’60s, and its effects. British nuclear testing took place at Maralinga, South Australia, between 1956 and 1963, after Australian Prime Minister Robert Menzies had handed over 3,200 square kilometres of open desert to the British Government, without informing his own people. The atomic weapons test series wreaked havoc on Indigenous communities and turned the land into a radioactive wasteland. How did it come to pass that a democracy such as Australia suddenly found itself hosting another country’s nuclear program? And why has it continued to be shrouded in mystery, even decades after the atomic thunder clouds stopped rolling across the South Australian test site? In this meticulously researched and shocking work, journalist and academic Elizabeth Tynan reveals the truth of what really happened at Maralinga and the devastating consequences of what took place there, not to mention the mess that was left behind.Praise for Atomic Thunder “Compulsive reading? Make that compulsory. This is a brilliant book.” —Philip Adams
At the end of her detailed examination of British deception and duplicity and Australian compliance and passivity around nuclear tests Down Under in the 1950s and early 1960s, Elizabeth Tynan concludes that Australia "was essentially an atomic banana republic" (300), a pliant and willing colony of a mother country that didn't care it was leaving behind a legacy of dangerous waste and human suffering.
The British found in Prime Minister Robert Menzies an easily swayed underling, who agreed to British use of Australian soil as a testing ground after the Americans locked the British out of their own testing sites, for fear of nuclear espionage. No real analysis was done of potential impacts, little information flowed from Britain to Australia about the tests or the technology, and the public was kept in virtual total ignorance. It goes without saying, of course, that the interests and safety of the Indigenous people whose land was sequestered for the tests were not only never consulted but never even acknowledged.
The first tests, which began on October 3, 1952, took place on a small archipelago off Australia's west coast. Soon they were moved to a desert site christened "Maralinga" (meaning "thunder" in an extinct indigenous language). There 7 bombs were detonated, followed by a series of tests disingenuously labeled "non-nuclear," in which scientists explored whether a nuclear explosion would be triggered by only a partial firing of its high-explosive triggers, and how plutonium would be spread due to such a sub-critical explosion.
Americans had performed such tests already in 1963 and the British had the reports, which showed the extensive contamination that resulted. But when they undertook to clean up Maralinga a few years later, they neither revealed these data to the Australians nor applied them to the decontamination plan. Instead they did a sloppy job, declared the task done, extracted from the Australian government an agreement that absolved Britain of any further responsibility, and went home. (By then the British were again cozy with the Americans and exploited access to Nevada and Pacific and Indian Ocean sites to conduct more tests.)
The heroes of this sad story are the journalists who, starting in the late 1970s, began to uncover the truth. It was a long process, met with fierce government resistance and vigorous denials. There were also a few scientists, notably John Morony, who were sickened when they discovered the lies and cover-up the British had undertaken and became conduits of information to the press. Eventually a Royal Commission held hearings and a further clean-up, grudgingly and inadequately underwritten by John Major's government, was conducted.
As usual, two groups of human beings suffered: the soldiers who were assigned to work on the tests (mostly Australians) and the Indigenous populations whose land was appropriated. Neither group has ever been truly compensated (as if true compensation were possible for the harm done). In recent years the land has been returned to the Indigenous groups, and they have established Maralinga Tours, which provides income and seeks to educate people about Australia's shameful nuclear past.
It should be noted that the story of Maralinga is only one aspect of British appropriation of Australian land for military use. A gigantic swatch of land comprises the Woomera Prohibited Area, where the British have tested rockets and munitions starting in 1946; Tynan devotes a few paragraphs to this taking, which deserves its own detailed history. Again, this land was taken from the Indigenous owners without a thought.
Tynan's book is readable and thorough and thoroughly depressing. The tale of Maralinga is not over yet, and what may happen, whether there will ever be true closure, is far from clear. My only disappointment in "Atomic Thunder" came from the editorial decision to excise footnotes -- the book began as a PhD dissertation -- and instead just append a chapter-by-chapter alphabetical list of sources. As a result it is sometimes hard or impossible to know where Tynan found a quotation or fact; for anyone who'd like to delve deeper this is an unfortunate impediment. My guess is that the publishers of the edition I read, Pen and Sword, judged that notes would deter the ordinary reader.
The nuclear legacy of the Cold War is not just a legacy. Thousands upon thousands of bombs still exist, balanced atop Trident missiles or stockpiled ready for use on airbases throughout the world. There has been no testing, at least by the major nuclear powers of the US, Britain, Russia, China, and France, for many years now. But the full story of this dreadful period in global history has yet to be told. Tynan has provided an important contribution to our understanding (there have been earlier books, many excellent, which she cites and uses). But if ever we are to put a final end to the bomb, we need full knowledge of how we got here and what has been left for us to deal with.
The British were determined to become a nuclear power following the end of WWII but without the cooperation of the United States they had to "go it alone," even though the American success with the atomic bomb was at least partially due to the wartime assistance of the British. Britain created the infrastructure to make bombs but needed someplace to test them. Canada was considered, but then dropped. Australia wound up being the test site for the UK's atomic bomb.
Primarily this book is about the "atomic colonialism" of Britain towards Australia, although Australia's political leadership seems to have helped the British enthusiastically. The writing in the book gets a bit annoying as the author seems to think that the sole purpose of detonating the bombs was to impress the world, but having watched films related to the tests it was clear that the British were also interested in scientific testing which would lead to better protective gear and civil defense measures. With that being said, there can be no doubt that the British misled the Australians concerning the last series of "non-fission" tests for the purposes of establishing safety measures to prevent accidental detonation of atomic weapons. These tests certainly created unprecedented plutonium contamination, which the British later sought to downplay.
The book is rather redundant in places and for some reason does not include photos of the tests nor of some of the key people involved in the tests.
Overall a good book but sadly poisoned by an overly emotional tone that distracts from a story of interest that is very much worth telling. The last chapter comes across as cringeworthy, where the emotion distracts from the gravity of the subject matter. The subject can speak more powerfully for itself if the facts are simply laid out.
Another example of history perhaps being written too soon.
But, mostly, a well told story. Australia should have been firmer in seeking a partnership instead of a junior role in the nuclear tests. The UK should have, if not accepting something approaching a partnership, taken full responsibility for their senior role. The failure to clean things up properly likely just stems from the fact that the land is, whatever ‘spiritual’ quality held by indigenous people, waste. So why waste money remediating waste? But that’s not the point - perhaps it is as simple as, if you make a mess, clean it up.