Nuclear Weapons Madness Must Stop. Period.

November 14, 2014

By Karipbek Kuyukov

The UN International Day Against Nuclear Tests falls right at the end of summer, on Aug. 29, like a reminder to us all that summer is over and it’s time to prepare for the harder seasons ahead.

To some, what I am about to say will be a discovery and a warning. Those are the lucky ones. To others, I’m about to tell a terribly familiar story about a past that cannot and must not be forgotten. Today, I would like to remind you all about the inhumane consequences of nuclear testing and nuclear explosions.

As some of you know, I was born about 100 kilometres away from the Semipalatinsk nuclear test site in Eastern Kazakhstan, where the Soviet Union tested more than 600 of its nuclear devices in more than 450 tests over four decades. Those tests have had terrible physical consequences for the people who lived near them. In my case, I was born without arms, a direct result of the radiation my parents and all of our neighbours were exposed to, year after year.

The most terrifying fact about this story is that we didn’t understand the impact these explosions would have. We were taken completely by surprise – and this, I believe, is why my message is so important today. We must not remain in the dark.

People often ask me if I was really born like this because of radiation. If you came from my home town, my region, this would not be a question. Yes, I was born without arms as a consequence of the radiation fallout from nuclear testing, and no, I am not alone.

In the place where I grew up, I saw mothers and midwives shocked at the sight of their babies. I saw families too embarrassed to show their children to the outside world, hiding them deep inside their homes and bringing them out only briefly for fresh air and sun. I saw families and whole communities decimated by radiation-related cancers. As the United Nations confirms, more than 1.5 million people in Kazakhstan have suffered the effects of Soviet nuclear weapons testing, which lasted from 1949 until 1991.

I saw so much tragedy and suffering in my homeland that I decided to do everything possible to ensure that my generation is the last to experience the painful and irreversible consequences of nuclear weapons testing. I became an activist in an anti-nuclear weapons movement and found peace in expressing my pain through art. I use my feet and mouth to hold my brush and pour out in my own colours my inner world, calling on others to follow my cause. This is my mission.

Today, I am an honorary ambassador of The ATOM Project, an online campaign to draw global attention to the need to show real leadership and take decisive steps toward totally eliminating the nuclear threat.

Since its launch in August 2012, The ATOM Project has told the stories of Kazakhstan’s survivors of nuclear testing. During this time, we have travelled the globe raising awareness of the consequences of nuclear testing and explosions. I have made many new friends: activists and interesting people who support The ATOM Project in any way possible. They give us the support to go on; they tell us that we are on the right track.

We have over 90,000 supporters from more than 100 countries. Our goal is to reach the milestone of having 100,000 supporters by August 29. If you haven’t joined us yet, you can at any time. Anyone in the world can sign the petition and contribute to building a nuclear-weapons-free world.

Now, a little bit about what has already been done. The first step toward a world free of nuclear weapons was taken in 1991, when Nursultan Nazarbayev, who was the leader of Kazakhstan but not yet president of an independent country, shut down the Semipalatinsk test site in defiance of the Soviet government in Moscow.

Similar decisions by Ukraine, Belarus and South Africa came at that time, who all renounced their nuclear weapons or nuclear weapons programmes in the 1990s. Kazakhstan, for its part, renounced the world’s fourth largest nuclear arsenal, including more than 1,000 nuclear warheads of one megaton TNT equivalent each.

In 1996, the Comprehensive Nuclear Test Ban Treaty was signed. Since then, 183 countries have signed the treaty and 162 countries have ratified it. But the treaty cannot enter into force until it is signed and ratified by eight more countries: China, Egypt, India, Iran, Israel, North Korea, Pakistan and the United States.

It is to the leaders and lawmakers of these eight countries that I and my fellow nuclear testing survivors address our plea for understanding and leadership. Sign and ratify the Comprehensive Nuclear Test Ban Treaty. Help ensure that not one other person suffers from the consequences of nuclear testing and nuclear weapons use in the future.

I joined The ATOM Project because it inspired me to complete the mission I began decades ago. Eradication of the planet’s entire nuclear arsenal may be a question for another generation – that, I don’t know. My vision is to make sure that every single person around me knows what was concealed for decades – the consequences of testing nuclear weapons.

In the United States in the early 1990s, I met a Shoshone Indian chief. I will never forget what happened when he saw me: he fell to his knees, tears welling in his eyes, and whispered something down into the ground. A translator explained to me that the chief was begging for forgiveness from the Earth.

The same chief later asked me and my friends to continue to warn the rest of the world about the dangers of so profoundly defiling the planet. That has been my mission from before that day to this one. It will be my mission when I wake up tomorrow and until enough people understand these consequences that we are able to rise up and put an end to the testing that causes them.

I don’t have arms; I don’t know what it feels like to grasp someone by the hand. But I do have feet, and I will use them to paint; I have a voice that I will use to speak, and as long as I can, I will use what I have to tell the world about the catastrophic damage nuclear weapons have done to the planet, even in peacetime.

It is possible to look at me and see only what I lack, but in reality, I have more than enough to complete my mission and fulfill my vision – as long as people will listen.

The author is the Honorary Ambassador of The ATOM Project.