Towards the end of Lois Lipman’s documentary “First We Bombed New Mexico,” we find ourselves in Tina Cordova’s kitchen in 2019. A year earlier, Cordova was one of many who testified in front of a Senate committee on the extension and expansion of the Radiation Exposure Compensation Act (RECA), which offers compensation to certain people in Arizona, Nevada and Utah who have contracted cancer or other diseases as a result of radiation from nuclear testing or uranium mining in the U.S.
Cordova was there to speak on behalf of the extension of RECA (at that point set to expire in 2022) to include the area surrounding the Trinity test, the first detonation of a nuclear weapon that was conducted in New Mexico on July 16, 1945. When the bill was originally passed in 1990, New Mexican downwinders, along with post-1971 uranium miners, were excluded from its benefits.
The word “downwinders” refers to people in the American west who have been exposed to nuclear fallout and radiation. Lipman’s documentary follows Cordova – who co-founded the Tularosa Basin Downwinders Consortium and is a cancer survivor herself – as she advocates for the expansion of the bill, including her testimony at the 2018 senate hearing. Well-known politicians litter the room during this hearing, the camera lingering on the pinched, sympathetic faces of those like Sen. Cory Booker and now Vice President Kamala Harris. A year later, standing in her kitchen in New Mexico, Cordova reflects on what it felt like to see those faces, to know that she had made someone understand the pain she and her community had been facing for years. And to realize that despite all that, nothing had changed.
With the popularity of Christopher Nolan’s “Oppenheimer,” the man who oversaw the creation of the first atomic bomb has certainly been a cultural talking point, as has Nolan’s jaw-dropping recreation of the Trinity test itself. “First We Bombed New Mexico,” however, tells the story that Nolan’s film couldn’t, the story of the people who lived around the Tularosa Basin at the time – communities less than 50 miles away from the test site, made up mostly of Native Americans and Hispanic people – and were given no warning of what was to come. Cordova serves as the central figure in Lipman’s film, but the director deftly weaves personal testimony with historic and scientific commentary to paint a portrait of what it looks like when a government leaves its citizens behind, and how the sympathetic faces and well-meaning words of politicians aren’t enough.
“First We Bombed New Mexico” begins with a quote from Louis Hempelmann, the senior health officer of the Manhattan Project, about the Trinity test: “People were probably overexposed but they couldn’t prove it and we couldn’t prove it, so we just assumed we got away with it.” In Lipman’s film, this quote exemplifies the feeling everyone in power seemed to have toward the people who were affected by Trinity – a sense that the only option was to deny, deny, deny.
Through the story of the Trinity downwinders, Lipman paints a picture of systematic institutional neglect, filled with politicians who put on a good face, but either can’t – or won’t – get the country to recognize what it’s done. Leslie Groves, who directed the Manhattan Project, is quoted as saying the government should never admit that anyone has been harmed by radiation as a result of nuclear testing – and if somebody claims they are harmed, don’t allow them to win a lawsuit. As this policy spreads, even politicians trying to make a change can be stymied. Stewart Udall, who served as the Secretary of Interior from 1961-69, was a staunch defender of Americans who had been affected by nuclear testing. When RECA was passed, Udall urged people not included in the bill to keep the pressure on. But 24 years later, that fight still rages on. In 2022, President Joe Biden extended the bill’s expiration year to 2024, and last year, the U.S. Senate approved the New Mexican downwinders inclusion in RECA. But In December, the expansion was cut, and the same old fight started all over again.
When backgrounded against the historical and scientific context, the personal stories of Cordova and so many like her hit that much harder. There are people featured in this documentary who have lost multiple sons, daughters, siblings, parents, and so many others to radiation-related illness. In one scene, Sen. Tom Udall of New Mexico (and Stewart Udall’s son) meets with Cordova and other downwinders to hear their stories. His care for the cause is apparent, but even as he talks, the camera pans to a crowd that looks despondent. They’ve heard all this before, and they know talk is cheap.
“First We Bombed New Mexico” is played at the Palm Springs International Film Festival this week. Future screenings of the film can be found online.