If you thought that the multi-reactor nuclear meltdown crisis that be­gan last March at the Fukushima Daiichi po­wer station in northeastern Japan has ended, think again. Contrary to the International Atomic Energy Agency’s announcement last month that the three stricken reactors have achieved a “cold shutdown condition”, while the release of radioactive materials is “under control”, the station authorities don’t even know the precise location of the melted cores, and how deep they have sunk through their containments.

Their belated efforts to assess the internal damage by inserting endoscope-like devices and remote cameras into the cores have only partially succeeded. The reactors, many independent observers say, are unlikely to be brought under control by damming radioactive leaks from the sides: “They’re going to have to build a huge trench underneath the plant to contain the radiation — a giant diaper.” This will take long years and cost a fortune.

The plant is badly damaged and contaminated, and continues to leak radiation. Large seismic aftershocks, expected to continue for many months, periodically cause further da­mage to already unstable and crumbling structures, releasing harmful quantities of radionuclides. The bases of the affected reactors contain ab­out 120,000 tonnes of extremely contaminated water, which intermittently leaks into the ocean and the air.

The authorities don't know how much radiation people were exposed to in the immediate aftermath of the disaster or what doses people continue to absorb at different distances. Most of the information people are getting from the government consists of a series of contradictory statements. But, instead of assuring the public that the nuclear danger is abating, these only breed further distrust. Citizens doing their own radiation monitoring invariably come up with higher readings than the government’s.

There is complete collapse of public confidence in the government. Officials in Tokyo have documented elevated levels of cesium-137 — a radioactive material with a half-life of 30 years that can cause cancers and leukaemia — more than 200 km away from the plant, equal to those found in the 20-km radius exclusion zone.

Levels of gamma radiation, which can penetrate metals, are dangerously high even 40 and 60 km away from the site, as I discovered during a tour last fortnight of the Fukushima region with the help of a handheld dosimeter. They are enough to give you a bigger radiation dose within six or seven weeks than the annual 20 millisievert limit that the government claims is safe. Under this excessive limit, the lay public would be continuously exposed to the same quantity of radiation as nuclear plant occupational workers. It is 20 times higher than the internationally pr­evalent annual norm of 1 millisievert! Over 110,000 people have been evacuated from the exclusion zone, but those living far away may be no better off.

Meanwhile, a government-appointed committee investigating the causes of the Fukushima nuclear disaster indicted in a report released three weeks ago that the power plant's operator, the Japanese nuclear safety agency, and the government for being unprepared to handle the crisis, saying that “people who have been involved in nuclear disaster response and those in charge of … operating nuclear power plants have lacked the whole-picture viewpoint …”. It paints a picture of bumbling nuclear industry executives and confused government officials scrambling to deal with the crisis.

The 507-page interim report, compiled after interviewing more than 400 people, found that the authorities had grossly underestimated tsunami risks — and the waves’ maximum height by 50 per cent-plus. Tepco workers weren’t trained to handle emergencies such as the power blackout that struck when the tsunami destroyed backup generators, leading to the overheating of reactor cores and their eventual meltdown. They had no clear manual to follow. They didn’t communicate even among themselves.

Finding alternative ways to transport water to the reactors was delayed for hours because of the mishandling of an emergency cooling system. Workers assumed the system was working, despite growing signs that it had failed. A better response might have reduced the core damage, radiation leaks and the disastrous hydrogen explosions that followed at reactors 1, 3 and 4, which sent plumes of radiation into the air. The radiation wasn’t even properly measured.

Even this report is considered soft on the government and industry. But Japan’s parliament has now appointed an independent bipartisan commission, with powers to summon witnesses, whose 10 members include outspoken critics of Japan's nuclear policy. It is expected to examine the extent to which the 9.0-magnitude earthquake contributed to the crisis even before the tsunami struck, and examine why the authorities failed to use data produced by a special radiation warning system, called Speedi, for evacuation when the reactors were in a critical condition. “We will get to the bottom of the case and … strive to live up to the people's expectations," panel chairman Kiyoshi Kur­okawa said. "We will seek how we can be different from the government panel.”

One thing is clear. It will be a long time before the truth comes out, health damage from the disaster is fully assessed, and people are adequately protected from further harm and treated for what they have endured. It will be even longer before the Japanese return to trusting their government. And as for the nuclear industry’s credibility, the less said the better.

(The writer is an independent commentator on political and economic issues)