Power and the Past: Collective Memory and International Relations

1. Collective Memory as a Factor in Political Culture and International Relations

Chapter 1 Collective Memory as a Factor in Political Culture and International Relations Eric Langenbacher THE CURRENT PROMINENCE OF COLLECTIVE MEMORY For years, observers have identified a so-called memory boom among scholars and in many societies worldwide—a boom that the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks have only intensified.1 In some countries the memory of traumatic events is still raw, and processes of settling accounts linger in the current political agenda. Elsewhere, where the seminal events on which collective memories rest are further in the past, the issues involve debating and institutionalizing an appropriate culture of memory and collective identity for future generations. Sometimes the individual and collective wounds fester, waiting for necessary healing through political and judicial processes. Other times the wounds have been muted over years but can quickly reopen or explode to dominate public consciousness at home and abroad, given the intimate relationship between domestic and international political arenas. Perhaps nowhere else do such concerns of memory still weigh as much as with Israel and Jewish communities worldwide. The Hebrew word zahkor (remember) captures one of the most important dimensions of the Jewish tradition—the emphasis on collective memory. As many have argued— including Ori Soltes in chapter 5 of this volume—memory has been the constitutive component par excellence of Jewish identity throughout history, informing Jewish religious practices as well as secular and national variants of Jewish existence. The overriding necessity of remembrance is a crucial part of Jewish scripture and liturgy, and most of the major religious holidays— including Purim, Pesach (Passover), Tisha B’Av (remembering the destruction of the first and second temples), and Chanukah—focus explicitly on remembering collective disasters or miracles. Contemporary commemorations in Israel include newly ‘‘secular’’ holidays, which also have acquired a religious dimension with a specialized liturgy, such as Yom Ha-Shoah (Holocaust memorial day), Yom Hazikaron (for the fallen soldiers and those who 13 14 Eric Langenbacher lost their lives in the struggle to establish and consolidate the state), Yom Ha-Hatzmaut (the day of the founding of the state), and Yom Yerushalayim (Jerusalem Day, marking the liberation/occupation of the Old City of the Jerusalem in the Six Days’ War of 1967). Among Jewish communities worldwide , these days are observed with varying levels of intensity as holidays of the Jewish people. Diasporas such as the American Jewish community have also developed their own unique commemorative culture, which is epitomized by the annual Days of Remembrance (of the Holocaust).2 Memory issues arise almost as frequently in Germany, with high political to seemingly mundane significance. Despite the continued hegemony of what I call Holocaust-centered memory, a discussion about the memory of German suffering in the last phase and aftermath of World War II has dominated public attention in the last few years. As I discuss in detail below, an initiative known as the Zentrum gegen Vertriebungen (Center against Expulsions), designed to commemorate this memory, was denounced by the German government as endangering the European Union’s eastward expansion, as inappropriately revising history by downgrading the suffering of Nazi Germany’s victims, and as empowering the radical Right. In the fall of 2007, controversy erupted when prominent conservative journalist Eva Hermann was fired after generating a media storm over her remarks (among others) that Nazi family policy was not all bad. In response to this brouhaha, Harald Schmidt and Oliver Pocher unveiled a machine on their television show called the ‘‘Nazometer’’ that beeped in response to overly positive remarks or words associated with Nazis (e.g., autobahn). This became a minor scandal and formal censure or cancellation was discussed. Earlier in 2005, numerous sixtieth-anniversary commemorations —including the liberation of Auschwitz in January, the bombing of Dresden in February, the end of the war on May 8, and the opening of the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe in the symbolic and political heart of Berlin on May 10—kept these issues in the headlines and in public consciousness.3 Scholars and pundits have come to laud the country’s efforts to work through its past and consider it the paradigmatic ‘‘culture of contrition.’’ Collective memory is similarly prominent in contemporary Argentina. Despite the severe economic crisis of 2001–3, which led observers to fear for the stability of democracy, or at the least to predict the emergence of a timid and conservative leader with the election of President Nestor Kirchner in 2003, that country began a deep and painful reckoning with its authoritarian legacy...