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Die Stimme des Intellekts ist leise, aber sie ruht nicht, ehe sie sich Gehör geschafft hat. Am Ende, nach unzäh- lig oft wiederholten Abweisungen, findet sie es doch. Dies ist einer der wenigen Punkte, in denen man für die Zukunft der Menschheit optimis- tisch sein darf. The voice of the intellect is a soft one, but it does not rest till it has gained a hearing. Ultimately, after endlessly repeated rebuffs, it succeeds. This is one of the few points in which one may be optimistic about the future of mankind. Sigmund Freud Justice and Memory.indb 9 02.11.2009 13:38:44 Justice and Memory.indb 10 02.11.2009 13:38:53 Table of contents Introduction 15 Ruth Wodak, Gertraud Auer Borea A Look at Vienna, 1938 21 Gitta Sereny SECTION I: 29 The Politics of Memory From Collective Violence to a Common Future: 31 Four Models for Dealing with a Traumatic Past Aleida Assmann Justice, Truth, and Peace 49 Three Dimension of Consequences Anton Pelinka Transforming the Holocaust 67 Remarks after the Beginning of the 21st Century Dirk Rupnow Historical Scholarship, Politics of the Public Past 79 and (Semi-) Private Memory Mitchell G. Ash Justice and Memory.indb 11 02.11.2009 13:38:53 SECTION II: 95 Coping with Traumatic Past(s): Case Studies Considering the Violence of Voicelessness: 97 Censorship and Self-censorship Related to the South African TRC Process Christine Anthonissen Dealing with the Past in Spain 123 Between Amnesia and Collective Memory Walther L. Bernecker The Polish Debate Around Fear by Jan Tomasz Gross 147 from the Perspective of the Intermediary Discourse Analysis Marek Czyzewski Resolving Antagonistic Tensions 169 Some Discourse Analytic Reflections on Verbal Commemorative Practices Titus Ensink Restitution: Yes, but . . . 195 Rudolf de Cillia and Ruth Wodak Spoken Silences – Bridging Breaks. 213 The Discursive Construction of Historical Continuities and Turning. Points in Austrian Commemorative Speeches by Employing Rhetorical Tropes Martin Reisigl Images of the “Other” and Danish Politics of the Past: 241 Antisemitism, Xenophobia and the Dream of Homogeneity Thorsten Wagner Justice and Memory.indb 12 02.11.2009 13:38:53 SECTION III: 263 Remembering and Forgetting: Brief Reflections The Legacies of the Holocaust in 265 Scandinavian Small State Foreign Policy Cecilie Felicia Stokholm Banke Two Sides of the Coin: 277 Clean Break and Usable History The Case of Hungary András Kovács Confronting War Crimes of the Wehrmacht 291 Walter Manoschek Israel’s Prenatal Memory: 309 Born 1948 – Traumatized 1938 Moshe Zimmermann Contributors 317 Justice and Memory.indb 13 02.11.2009 13:38:53 Justice and Memory.indb 14 02.11.2009 13:38:53 Introduction Ruth Wodak, Gertraud Auer Borea The 2008 program at the Bruno Kreisky Forum for International Dialogue was framed by the discussion of the range of functions which serve to commemorate the past, more specifically in this case, the “Anschluss” of Austria to Nazi Germany in 1938, and the wide range of expectations concerning memorial events. In a series of lectures and discussions curated by Ruth Wodak we focussed on “the Why?”, “the When?”, “the How?” of past traumatic experiences in many societies, and on the consequences of commemorative events. International experts, scholars, and public intellectuals discussed how European and non-European nation states did (not) come to terms with their traumatic pasts. Several salient past and present key dates 1918 – 1938 – 1948 – 1968 – 2008 were addressed while reflecting on the many often ritualised commemorative events and public fora from an interdisciplinary perspective. All societies have to come to terms with traumatic pasts, since all attempts at repressing / forgetting / tabooing them are bound to fail. Past events inevitably influence the present and the future – or our visions of them: People may deliberately distance themselves from certain events or actors or identify with them. They may try to find culprits and/or to name victims after the event. The way we deal with the past is part of “Vergangenheitspolitik” (pol- itics of dealing with the past1): Different groups, political parties or politicians prefer different interpretations with a view to aligning their own positions (as advantageously as possible) with the official version of history. Hence, history written with hindsight and in- stilled with meaning like a “narrative” must be invariably perceived as a construction. Historical context needs to be understood as the outcome of a social process whereby past events that are regarded as worthy vehicles for moral concepts are selected and made the objects 15 Justice and Memory.indb 15 02.11.2009 13:38:53 of remembrance and commemoration. This process is wrought with opposition and controversy over the selection of the hegemonic nar- rative. “Representations of history” (Geschichtsbilder) consist of nor- matively established relationships, of interpretations of interrelations between actual events and thus of narratives. It is not the facts per se that are called into question, but the inter- pretations of facts – the contexts they are embedded in, the causes attributed to them and who is named as being responsible for which events. Moreover, the modes of coming to terms with the past with hindsight need to be subjected to critical scrutiny: they range from tri- als (for example Nuremberg) via tribunals (for example The Hague) to “reconciliation commissions” (for example Truth and Reconciliation Commission); from the erection of monuments to building museums or setting up exhibitions; from documentary films via interviews, textbooks and excursions to oral history reports; from restitution to “compensation payments”; from memorial days via commemorative speeches, and commemorative events to minutes of silence; etc. What is the impact of such modes of commemoration and confrontation? Which mode is opted for and why? It is not by coincidence that every historical representation com- municates a specific version of the past: The fact that individuals do not remember on their own but with the help of the memories of others, that they grow up surrounded by objects and gestures, phrases, texts and pictures, architecture and landscapes, all of them brimful of unfamiliar pasts predating the individual, caused Maurice Hal- bwachs to come up with the concept of „collective memory“. He held that every individual memory is a “vantage point” on the collective memory.2 The moment the group looks back on its past, it feels that it has remained the same and becomes aware of the identity it has preserved at all times.3 According to Reinhart Koselleck (1979), this historical consciousness consists of the polarity between the “space of experience” and the “horizon of expectation”. Space of experience stands for the total heritage of the past available to an individual or a group, while horizon of expectation denotes the anticipation of the future and comprises the whole array of wishes and fears, plans and visions. The polarity of these two states of being unfolds in the living presence of a culture, present time being perceived as the mediator between the past and the immediate future. 16 Justice and Memory.indb 16 02.11.2009 13:38:54 How are specific periods of the past – 1918 (end of World War I), 1938 (“Anschluss”, November pogrom in the German Reich), 1948 (Marshall Plan, foundation of the State of Israel, emergence of the Apartheid regime), 1968 (May 68, Prague 68) – constructed in the collective memory by European politicians at both the national and transnational level in 2008; how are these and many other, diverse events commemorated; which links are established to events in the present, and what are the goals and consequences? Does it make sense to commemorate? Which sense? All these and many more questions were discussed at the Kreisky Forum in a series of events, culminating in a conference whose contributions are collected in this volume. On March 12, the date of the “Anschluss” 1938, an opening event was staged at the Vienna Burgtheater with keynotes by the Spanish writer and politician Jorge Semprun and the Bulgarian writer Dimi- tre Dinev. Actors of the famous “House on the Ring” read texts from 1933–1945 found in archives of the theatre which were presented for the first time to the audience and public. The international conference mentioned above, in June 2008, brought together leading academics in the field of memory research and contemporary history to discuss three overarching themes: “Silence/Silencing and Censorship: Memory and Media”, ”The Politics of a ‘Clean’ Break”, and “Collective and Individual Trauma; Confronting War Crimes”. Gitta Sereny, the Austrian born Ameri- can author, delivered the keynote “On Breaking Silence”, and David Sugarman,professor of Law and Human Rights at Lancaster Uni- versity, the plenary “A Battleground of Memory and Justice; Chile since the 1973 Coup”. “Fascist Past – Democratic Present: Italy and Spain today”, “Com- memoration: Staging the Past or Critical Debate?” and “Coming to Terms with Europe’s Traumatic Past(s). An International Compari- son” were the themes of three further panel discussions staged at the Kreisky Forum in 2008. All of them included a broad participation of the Austrian public and media. Laura Balbo (University of Milan), Fernando Vallespín Oña (Univer- sity of Madrid) and Werner Perger (German weekly Die Zeit) discussed and compared Italy and Spain in their historical and contemporary context. 17 Justice and Memory.indb 17 02.11.2009 13:38:54 Elazar Barkan (Columbia University), Beate Klarsfeld (Klarsfeld Foundation, Paris), Oliver Rathkolb (University of Vienna) and Ruth Wodak debated the “Functions of Commemoration”. Slavenka Drakulic (Croatian author and publicist), Nina Khrush- cheva (Russian American professor at New School, New York), Avi Primor (Center for European Studies, Herzlia), Jan Erik Vold (Nor- wegian poet), Ruth Wodak, and Helene Maimann (Austrian historian and filmmaker) unfolded the different perspectives of European traumatic past(s). Helene Maimann’s remarks as discussed in the latter panel deserve to be quoted briefly as one of many themes and leitmotifs which became explicit during this entire series: After a human catastrophe with such terrible mental, material and moral losses there is a distinctive tendency of people to turn away from the scenery and to try to get back to normal life as soon as they can. This is the reason why there is always a time of silence, on all sides of the conflict, not only on the side of the losers, but also on the side of the winners. We know that the Doers after the breakdown of the Nazi Reich kept this silence as well as their victims. Both sides, winners and losers, had their skeletons in their cupboard. To ignore, to deny and to keep silence is a technique of survival of the mind . . . This is a very understandable human attitude . . . Necessary for mental survival [however] is also the historical memory, the historic mind. This is a contradiction, which cannot be solved . . . In all our debates and contributions, some of these questions and salient contradictory tendencies were addressed. The relevance of the context has to be considered and accounted for. Whereas forgetting may be a necessary strategy of survival in some families, states bear a responsibility towards victims of traumatic events in many ways. Thus, we necessarily need to pose the question of who was a victim, where, when, why, and with what consequences? There are also other issues which necessarily need to be confronted: guilt, trauma, restitution, and the future of young generations. In his book Strategies of Remembrance, M. Lane Bruner (2002) es- tablishes that rhetorical and discourse-analytical investigations of national identity constructions and politics of the past are more important than mere academic enquiry: The contextual analysis of controversial speech related to national identity, and the isolation of strategies of remembrance that it enables, is a productive move in the 18 Justice and Memory.indb 18 02.11.2009 13:38:54 eventual production of more humane systems of human governance, and the develop- ment of more humane guidelines for the public negotiation of national identity.4 Commemorations may be viewed as empty rituals. They allow the (positive) self-presentation of the governing parties at the time, or are politically instrumentalised in manifold ways.5 Of course, as our conference contributions illustrate, there are also other functions and patterns as well. The politics of commemoration therefore faces substantial chal- lenges: it must ensure that enough importance is placed on present wrongs, to counteract processes of “banalisation and normalisation”. They must also ensure that distinctions between our various pasts are maintained, and that various narratives are not used principally for politically opportune ends. To our knowledge, the Bruno Kreisky Forum was one of the few Austrian institutions to address European historic consciousness in this way in 2008. Notes 1 Cf. SANDNER 2003; HEER, MANOSCHEK, POLLAK, WODAK 2003, 2008; DE CILLIA, WODAK 2009. 2 HALBWACHS 1967: p. 31. 3 Ibid. p. 74. 4 BRUNNER 2002, p. 101. 5 WODAK et al. 2009. Bibliography L. M. BRUNER, Strategies of Remembrance, New York: Academic Press, 2002. R. DE CILLIA, R. WODAK (eds.), Gedenken im ‘Gedankenjahr’, Inns- bruck: Studienverlag, 2009. M. HALBWACHS, Das kollektive Gedächtnis, Stuttgart: Enke, 1967. H. HEER, W. MANOSCHEK, A. POLLAK, R. WODAK (eds.), The Discursive Construction of History. Remembering the Wehrmacht’s War of Annihilation, Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008. 19 Justice and Memory.indb 19 02.11.2009 13:38:54 W. MANOSCHEK, G. SANDNER, Defining the Victims of Nazism, in H. HEER, W. MANOSCHEK, A. POLLAK, R. WODAK (eds.), The Discursive Construction of History. Remembering the Wehrmacht’s War of Annihilation, Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008, pp. 99–131. 20 Justice and Memory.indb 20 02.11.2009 13:38:54 A Look at Vienna, 1938 Gitta Sereny I was sixteen years old and a drama student at the “Reinhardt Semi- nar”, Max Reinhardt’s school of drama in Vienna, when on March 13, 1938, Hitler, fulfilling the dream of his life, made Austria into a province of his great German Reich, the “Ostmark”. It is easy to forget the effect political events can have on individuals, so allow me to recall for you some things that happened in one place in those days in 1938. My school, which I had attended starting in 1936, was, like all Vien- nese institutions of learning, closed when the Nazis took over and reopened about ten days later as one of several “Viennese Academies of Art“, with that now unacceptable name – Max Reinhardt – removed. The administrator of the seminar who was appointed by Reinhardt himself in 1933, whose name I will not cite here so as not to risk upsetting any remaining members of his family, sported a Swastika pin in his lapel when he addressed us upon our return. He did not mention the economic benefits of the “Anschluss” – the union with Germany. In this Austria where the always dormant anti-Semitism had then reached the boiling point, he only spoke about the Jews. He told us that the new wind that was blowing through the country would cleanse – säubern in German, a particularly unpleasant use of the term in that context – Vienna’s theatres, films and music world. No Jews would any longer direct or act in German-speaking films or plays and they were excluded, too, from working in any shape or form in the music world which they had dominated for so long. The use of plays written by Jews was prohibited, not only for performances in theatres or adaptations for the screen, but also for auditions or school performances. Three teachers, famous actors and directors in Vien- na’s theatres, who were Jews, would no longer be seen on any stage or teach us. And any theatre which tried to present a play written by 21 Justice and Memory.indb 21 02.11.2009 13:38:54 a Jew, and anyone who produced, directed, or acted in any such play or film, would make themselves liable to prosecution. Wisely, I suppose, he made no comment when eight students who we knew to be particularly political were joined immediately by twelve others and pointedly left the room in the middle of his remarks. There were seventy students, nine of them Jewish, in what had been the “Reinhardt Seminar”. About a third of them courageously declared themselves “apolitical”; twenty were Nazis, though over the next months a few more would be infected by the others’ enthusiasm or, some no doubt urged by parents, accommodated themselves to the situation. Remarkably however, none of them gave away their nine Jewish colleagues. Researching later, I found that five of them had soon emigrated with their families to America. One, a highly talented member of a famous acting clan, got a contract to the re- nowned Schauspielhaus in Zurich, and two stayed in Vienna. One of these managed to change his identity and with the help of friends muddle through till the Nazis collapsed in 1945; the other, a clever young girl who had been born in Prague, was caught by the Nazis as a member of the particularly effective Czech resistance, and died in a concentration camp. I, to my sorrow, was no longer in Vienna that summer of 1938: my mother was getting married in Geneva and, considered too young to remain in Vienna on my own, I had to leave with her. But even before then, the atmosphere at the “Seminar” had changed, in some extraordinary way reflecting the new order. The school had always been friendly, with help given readily by second year students to those in the first. Now, totally new for us happy-go-lucky Viennese, our futures, meaning who would get parts in the school performances which, depending largely on the ever more powerful administrator’s agreement, were put on in the beautiful baroque Schönbrunn Palace Theatre and attended by newspaper critics whose reports had con- siderable importance, were constantly in question. I recall one occasion, in February 1938 – just a month before Aus- tria’s annexation to Germany, which was already openly discussed –, when the administrator forbade one girl, one of the most talented in the school, to accept a part she was offered in the “Josefstadt”, formerly Reinhardt’s theatre, in Vienna. Astonished, for it was an honour for the school too when its students were chosen to act outside, 22 Justice and Memory.indb 22 02.11.2009 13:38:55 she asked for the reason. When she told us afterwards about this con- versation, she said the administrator seemed surprised she had even bothered to ask. “You are a Jewess, aren’t you?” he said, apparently without any particular animosity, just mentioning an obvious fact. Like many descendants of Jews, she was a practicing Christian, or at least, as “practicing” as many young people of any religion were then and as a matter of fact are now. This was when she realised, she told us, that he was familiar not only with HER background, but probably with that of all of the students, and began to wonder what effect her great-grandmother’s religion would have on her future – for it was as far back as that, that anyone in her family had been Jewish. (The administrator would, incidentally, retain his job even after the Nazi rule was over. “Why was he allowed to keep it?” I asked years later Helene Thimig, one of Austria’s greatest actresses and Max Rein- hardt’s widow, to whom I had become close. She shrugged: “I suppose because nobody wanted to be openly against him – it was difficult to forget the Nazi time.”) I was very young and personally not affected, but came to under- stand very quickly what was happening, and understood that Austria, which I loved, had ceased to exist as an independent nation free to make her own decisions. And when people who I knew could not be guilty of any crime were arrested and others – some of them my mother’s friends – committed suicide, I understood for the first time that there was such a thing as right and wrong, even evil in political and public life. We grew up in that year. Politics and the adoption or rejection of them were reflected in everybody’s life – those on the top commanded, those in the middle schemed to get to the top, and those on the bottom obeyed. Now, sud- denly, after years of harmony, there was a distinct separation between the students, not based on anything to do with theatre, but almost entirely on their reaction to the administrator’s turning out to be pro-Nazi. Even so, there was no reason for us to be suspicious early on when, a few days after our return to school, he handed out a form. It wasn’t considered extraordinary – in Austria there had always been forms to fill out. The first questions were the normal ones: names, addresses, our and our parents’ ages, father’s and (“if applicable” it said) mother’s profession. We didn’t even see any special significance in the column headed “Creed” (Bekenntnis in German) nor the next 23 Justice and Memory.indb 23 02.11.2009 13:38:55 column: “Mother’s and Father’s Creed”. None of us thought that filling out those columns truthfully could have consequences. All of us, the Jewish students included, dutifully filled them in – one boy replaced “Jewish” with “Hebrew”. I remember clearly the silence that followed his attempt at black humour. Two Jewish students disap- peared next day. I still don’t know what happened to them. There are many varieties of guilt in many of us: not having tried then to find out where they were is one of mine. Soon though, students no longer joked in class with those of the teachers who had been easygoing, because no one was any longer easygoing. There was no more horseplay in the little canteen with the theatre-mad middle-aged lady with roller-curled platinum dyed hair who had actually shaken hands with Reinhardt – an almost unimaginable honour to us. Like all of us, she was unaware that au- thorities constantly had their eyes on us, and often criticised, in her thick Viennese, the Austrian Nazis for being “too German”, and the Germans for understanding nothing about the Viennese. Personalis- ing – as many Viennese are apt to do – whatever she babbled about the great art of theatre which, of course, she knew nothing about, and the incomparable importance of the Catholic religion, “the only faith of good Christians” she said. A Swiss student who, as a foreigner had nothing to fear from the authorities, once tried to provoke her: “So what do you think about there being so many Jews in Vienna?” he asked. “That they’ll take our money and drive us into our graves one day,” she answered promptly, but quickly corrected herself with hypocriti- cal piety: “We must remember that they are sent by God to try us.” The worst was that, perfectly aware of the extent politics had begun to affect everybody’s life, we became self-conscious in our awareness, not only of our own but our families’ political attitudes and feelings. No longer were all our conversations focused on theatre and our concentration on studying roles. As everybody’s career depended on getting good “engagements” once they finished their training, it suddenly became essential to know where every theatre manager in the country and every director stood politically. Having been pretty optimistic about our professional chances after graduating from this famous school, we became anxious now that we knew that other things would count and went to great lengths to find out everything we 24 Justice and Memory.indb 24 02.11.2009 13:38:55 could about these men who could become so important in our lives. Moreover, our personal relationships also suffered when, realising that our reputations would play a part, too, in where we would end up, we wondered about each other’s politics and began to look at one another with suspicion. It would be several years before the Nazis advanced to the genocide of what was probably the most creative group in Germany, but it would be a long time before the pervasive effects this caused became evident. One can still see this very clearly now in some older people in the countries Nazi Germany occupied after 1939, in whom their acceptance and collaboration with the occupiers would later create a retroactive defensive guilt, to which a number – and I know quite a few of them for I lived two years under that occupation – are still prone today. What is it about that Nazi past that drives us to write books and make films about it and – let us face it – to bore our children by re- calling events from it which have no relevance to their lives? I, who am certainly guilty on all these counts, think about this often. We all know what puzzles us about just the Germans committing such dreadful things when Germany, after all, was for more than a hundred years amongst the most civilised countries in the world. I know you may now think that I am speaking too much of the past as people of my generation are apt to do; that we now live in differ- ent times when nothing infamous can happen in one place without – thanks to our modern communication facilities – it being known at once in others. And that, as a consequence, the world has become interdependent and thus safer. I wish I could feel that. A few years ago, I was in Stockholm where I was to speak at an international conference on violence. A 35-minute Swedish documentary shown before the opening statement by Swe- den’s Prime Minister, set the tone which the Swedes were determined would demonstrate that their official neutrality during World War II had not prevented violence in Sweden either. The photography for the documentary I saw there had been taken almost accidentally. “We had been warned that something was going to occur in that area and came upon the scene when it was already happening,” a Swedish journalist told me. It showed men in black uniforms battling civilians, shouting slogans familiar from the 25 Justice and Memory.indb 25 02.11.2009 13:38:55 1930’s and 1940’s while police tried to disperse them. The second tape, obviously made a bit later, showed a perhaps eight to ten year old lightly coloured boy lying dead in a deserted Stockholm street, paraphernalia around him (some posters, some sticks, some torn flags, and a truncheon) pointing to the violence just past, while the emptiness of the streets and the closed windows of the surrounding houses communicated the silence that can follow savage events. Of course I asked how the cameraman and probably an assistant could have been there and no one next to the dead child. But all this had taken place years before I came to Stockholm that time and no one knew the answers to my questions. “Breaking the Silence”, the title Ruth Wodak suggested for this weekend of reflection of which this meeting tonight is the start, can mean many things. Silence about wrongs done by oneself or oth- ers can stem from ignorance, unavowable knowledge and quarrels with partners at work or in life. In national or international affairs countries frequently react with silence to objectionable subjects or unpleasant events. One example was when the Austrians after 1945 avoided answering questions or to accept discussion of their past as willing partners of Nazi Germany. That particular “silence” can be said to have prevailed for forty years until the prospect in 1986 of Kurt Waldheim becoming President of Austria provoked a furious controversy, first in the western democ- racies, then in Austria which had come to think of itself as Hitler’s first victim, rather than an ally of the Nazis. Waldheim had held top government posts and served his country honourably in a number of diplomatic posts for thirty years when he was selected to become Secretary General of the United Nations, a post he then held for nine years. The question why, of all the horrors which have been committed around the world in the 20th century, it is this “Nazi past” which continues to lie heaviest on the public mind, can be answered: it is because they turned killing into an industry. Without justifying anything at all about the Nazis who were led by an abominable man and did abominable things, the question we are surely left with is whether we ever learn anything from the deeds of yesterday’s Hitlers and Stalins or have to doubt it when we see the Mugabes torturing and killing in Africa today. 26 Justice and Memory.indb 26 02.11.2009 13:38:55 I believe that death needs to be followed by the privacy and emotion of mourning and that the Nazis robbed us of this privilege when they turned their death camps into killing factories where the death of individual human beings, their names, their identities were not even noted on a piece of paper: where millions were not even acknowledged to exist. These fundamentals can too easily be forgotten. But perhaps the Prime Minister of Sweden’s fairly recent words can help to lead us into the right direction. “The greatest danger to freedom” he said, “lies not in the wicked deeds committed by those who are evil, but in the silence of those who are good.” 27 Justice and Memory.indb 27 02.11.2009 13:38:55 Justice and Memory.indb 28 02.11.2009 13:38:56 The Politics of Memory Justice and Memory.indb 29 02.11.2009 13:38:56 Justice and Memory.indb 30 02.11.2009 13:38:56 From Collective Violence to a Common Future: Four Models for Dealing with a Traumatic Past Aleida Assmann The Israeli philosopher Avishai Margalit dedicated his book The Ethics of Memory to his parents, whom he introduced to the reader on the second page of his preface. “From early childhood,” he writes, “I witnessed an ongoing discussion between my parents about memory.” Margalit then reconstructs this parental dialogue, which started after the Second World War when it became obvious that both of their huge families in Europe had been destroyed. This is what his mother used to say: The Jews were irretrievably destroyed. What is left is just a pitiful remnant of the great Jewish people [by which she meant European Jewry]. The only honorable role for the Jews that remains is to form communities of memory – to serve as “soul candles” like the candles that are ritually kindled in memory of the dead. This is what his father used to say: We, the remaining Jews, are people, not candles. It is a horrible prospect for any- one to live just for the sake of retaining the memory of the dead. That is what the Armenians opted to do. And they made a terrible mistake. We should avoid it at all costs. Better to create a community that thinks predominantly about the future and reacts to the present, not a community that is governed from mass graves.1 After 1945, it was first the father’s position that prevailed – and not only in Israel. What mattered then in Israel was the collective project of founding a new state, of forging a new beginning for survivors and opening up the future for successive generations. Four decades later, during the 1980s, the mother’s position became more and more dominant. The survivors turned to the past that they had held at a distance for so long. After the foundation of the state had been politically accomplished and confirmed by two wars, Yad Vashem 31 Justice and Memory.indb 31 02.11.2009 13:38:56 became the symbolic cultural center of the nation and Israeli society transformed itself more and more into a ritualistic community of memory. Margalit has presented two paradigmatic solutions for the problem of dealing with a traumatic past: remembering or forgetting, either preservation of the past or orientation towards the future. I want to argue that today, we are no longer dealing with only these two mutu- ally exclusive models but are experimenting with four. I will refer to them as 1. dialogic forgetting 2. remembering in order to prevent forgetting 3. remembering in order to forget 4. dialogic remembering The fourth model is still more of a claim and project than a reality. All four are attempts at dealing with or overcoming a traumatic his- tory of violence; I will address them in my paper in this sequence. All of them are also attempts at overcoming the pernicious basic law that persists after a traumatic outbreak of violence: the victors impose their version of history on the defeated victims whose experience is silenced. Such a memory conquest of the stronger over the weaker perpetuates and stabilises the oppressive power relations and hence cannot be conceived here as a “model” for dealing with a traumatic past. The same is true for an imposed silence which exonerates the perpetrators and harms the victims. The following models therefore all deviate from these basic and widespread modes of preserving a re- pressive status quo in trying to limit and overcome traumatic violence by negotiating a new and mutual vision or memory of the past. 1. Dialogic Forgetting It is an age-old experience that the memory of violence, injustice, suffering and unsettled accounts is prone to generate new violence, mobilising aggression between neighbours which breaks societies apart. This is why humans in history have looked for pragmatic solutions how to bring to an end a lethal conflict by controlling and 32 Justice and Memory.indb 32 02.11.2009 13:38:56 containing the explosive force of memory.2 Forgetting was discovered time and again in history as a resource under such circumstances. The term must not be taken too literally in this context. It is but another expression for “silence”. While the silence that is imposed by the victors on the losers is the perennial strategy of repressive regimes to muffle the voices of resistors and victims, self-imposed dialogic silence is a model for peace designed and agreed upon by two parties connected through actions of mutual violence in order to keep an explosive past at bay. Such a forgetting was introduced, for instance, in ancient Greece after civil wars in order to achieve closure after a period of internal violence and to mark a new era in which a divided society could grow together again.3 Of course the state could not directly influence the memories of its citizens, but it could prohibit the public articulation of resentments that were liable to reactivate old hatred and new violence. After the Peloponnesian War, an Athenian law ordered such a form of stipulated forgetting.4 The injunction to forget was legally enforced by restricting public communication through specific taboos. A new word was even coined to describe what was henceforth forbidden: mnesikakein which means literally: to remember what is bad. The same model was implemented after other civil wars, for instance the Thirty-Years-War. The 1648 peace treaty of Münster-Osnabrück contains the formula: perpetua oblivio et amnestia.5 This policy of forgetting often goes hand in hand with a blanket amnesty in order to end mutual hatred and achieve a new social integration of formerly opposed parties. It is interesting to note that even after 1945 the model of dialogic forgetting was still widely used as a political resource. The internation- al court of the Nuremberg trials had of course dispensed transitional justice by indicting major Nazi functionaries for the newly defined “crime against humanity”. This, however, was an act of purging rather than remembering the past. In postwar Germany, the public sphere and that of official diplomacy remained largely shaped by what was called “a pact of silence”. The term was used 1983 in a retrospective description by Hermann Lübbe (“kollektives Beschweigen”).6 He made the controversial point that maintaining silence was a necessary prag- matic strategy adopted in postwar Germany (and supported by the allies) to facilitate the economic and political reconstruction of the state and the integration of society. These goals were swiftly achieved 33 Justice and Memory.indb 33 02.11.2009 13:38:56 in West Germany at the price of putting the former NS elites back into power. Dialogic forgetting or the pact of silence became, as Tony Judt has also shown, a strategy of European politics. It was widely adopted during the period of the cold war in which much had to be forgotten in order to consolidate the new Western military alliance against that of the Communist block.7 A complex example for the strategy of forgetting is the case of the Spanish Civil War (1936–1939). The victor of this war, General Franco, stayed in power until 1975. During his dictatorship the victor’s narra- tive prevailed. It was entrenched in textbooks and public monuments, silencing the point of view and memory of the defeated Republicans. Thus, the victor’s memory was established and enforced as the official perspective on this past (including the prohibition to challenge it). After Franco’s death in 1975, an unwritten law came into practice, generally referred to as “the pact of forgetting”. The prescribed si- lence was introduced as a model to ensure an easy transition into a new democracy. The formula “amnesia and amnesty” prevailed once more, but, given the established state of an asymmetric memory, it had the further one-sided effect of offering a general amnesty to the Francistic functionaries. Only in October 2007, seventy years after the civil war, an important shift occurred that brought the one-sided pact of forgetting to an abrupt end: Spanish Prime Minister Zapatero passed a so-called “memory law” in parliament which finally intro- duced the Republican version of the civil war into public memory by explicitly condemning the Fascist dictatorship and acknowledging the memory and suffering of its victims. This change in memory policy is significant: at a belated stage, this covered-up chapter of history is now forcefully and literally reintroduced into the present in painful acts of uncovering mass graves and exhuming the bodies of killed family members. In spite of its ongoing controversies, the Spanish example shows that between the 1970s and the 1990 the norms and standards of democratic states have undergone a decisive change. During the last two decades, we could witness a general re-orientation from their policy of forgetting to new cultures of remembering. 34 Justice and Memory.indb 34 02.11.2009 13:38:56 2. Remembering in order to never forget Especially after civil wars, forgetting was prescribed as a potent remedy against socially dangerous and explosive forms of remembering to foster a speedy integration. Dialogic silence was a remedy but it was clearly no general cure in other situations to dispose of a traumatic past. The pact of forgetting works only after mutual forms of violence between combatants or under the pressure of a new military alliance like NATO. It cannot work after situations of asymmetric relations in which all-powerful perpetrators attacked defenseless victims. The paradigmatic case of such an asymmetric situation of extreme violence is the Nazi genocide of European Jews. The paradigmatic shift from the model of forgetting to an orien- tation towards remembering occurred with the return of Holocaust memory after a period of latency. This memory returned in various steps. In the 1960s it reemerged together with the images of the Eichmann trial in Jerusalem which were projected into a transna- tional public arena. The televised event transformed the silenced memories of Israeli and diasporic Jewish families into a new ethnic community of memory. After the broadcasting of the American tel- evision series “Holocaust” in 1978, the impact of this event spilled over to those who had no share in the historical experience, but joined the memory community on the basis of empathy. In the 1980s and 90s, a number of events happened in Germany that transformed the social consensus and made the nation of the former perpetrators ready to formally join the transnational Holocaust community of memory. After 2000, this memory community was further extended when it was officially taken up by other European states and the United Nations. This general turn from amnesia to anamnesis could be witnessed in Germany and the respective countries on all levels of personal and collective remembering; it was supported by books and films, public debates and exhibitions, museums, monuments and acts of commemoration on a social, national and transnational level. Holocaust memory today is supported by an extended com- munity with a long-term commitment. This memory is sealed with a special pledge for an indefinite future: “to remember in order to never forget”. Through its widening in space as well as time it has acquired the quality of a civil religion. 35 Justice and Memory.indb 35 02.11.2009 13:38:57 In the case of the Holocaust, the model of dialogic forgetting as a strategy of sealing a traumatic past and opening up a new future was no longer considered a viable solution for the problem. On the contrary, this form of closure was exactly what had to be prevented by all means. Remembering was the only adequate response to such collectively destructive and devastating experiences. It was rediscov- ered not only as a therapeutic remedy for the survivors but also as a spiritual and ethical obligation for the millions of dead victims. Thus, slowly but inevitably, the pact of forgetting was transformed into a “pact of remembering”. The aim of such a pact is to transform the asymmetric experience of violence into symmetric forms of remember- ing. To leave the memory of suffering to the affected victim group was now recognised as prolonging the original murderous constel- lation. The fatal polarity between perpetrator and victim can never be reconciled but it can be overcome by a shared memory based on an empathetic and ethical recognition of the victim’s memories. The establishing of such a “pact of remembering” between the Germans as the successors of the perpetrators and the Jews as the successors of the victims was a historically new and unique answer to the histori- cally unprecedented crime of the Holocaust.8 3. Remembering in order to forget The cumulative process of the returning Holocaust memory was a decisive event in the 1980s that brought about a profound change in sensibility in other places of the world also dealing with historic traumas. Against this background of a new awareness of the suffering of victims, forgetting was no longer acceptable as a general policy in overcoming atrocities of the past. Remembering became a universal ethical and political claim when dealing with other historic traumas such as the dictatorships in South America, the South-African regime of apartheid, colonial history or the crime of slavery. In most of these discourses about other atrocities, references and metaphorical allusions were made to the newly established memory icon of the Holocaust. I want to argue, however, that although the Holocaust became the prototype of traumatic memories and was and is regularly invoked in the rhetoric of memory activists all over the world, it was 36 Justice and Memory.indb 36 02.11.2009 13:38:57 not chosen as a model. The transformation of traumatic suffering into a semi-religious transnational and perpetual memory is not what was and is aimed at in other contexts. When I described the shift from the second to the third model as one of “remembering in order to never forget” to “remembering in order to forget”, I am exaggerating the difference for the purpose of analytic clarity. I therefore hasten to add, that “forget” in the context of the third model must not be taken too literally as an act of erasure or wiping the slate clean. It stands rather for the urge to leave behind and go beyond – in this the third model clearly deviates from a semi-religious fixation of and on a normative past as a form of negative revelation. Since the 1980s and 90s, we have witnessed a new policy of memory that is no longer in strict opposition to forgetting but in alliance with it. In this model, the aim is also “forgetting”, but the way to achieve this aim paradoxically leads through remembering. In this case, re- membering is not implemented to memorialize an event of the past into an indefinite future but is introduced as a therapeutic tool to cleanse, to purge, to heal, to reconcile. It is not pursued as an end in itself but as a means to an end, which is the forging of a new begin- ning. Cultures in history have produced ample evidence for such forms of transitory and transitional remembering. In the ritual framework of Christian confession remembering is the introduction to forgetting: the sins have to be publicly articulated and listed before they can be blotted out through the absolution of the priest. A similar logic is at work in the artistic concept of “catharsis”: through the re-presenta- tion of a painful event on stage a traumatic past can be once more collectively re-lived and overcome in the very process of doing so. According to the theory of Aristotle, the group that undergoes such a process is purged in this shared experience. Forgetting through remembering is at bottom also the goal of Freudian psychotherapy: a painful past has to be raised onto the level of language and con- sciousness in order to be able to move forward and leave it behind. “To remember in order to forget” holds also true for the witness at court whose sole function is to support with his testimony the legal procedure of finding the truth and reaching a verdict. As the goal of every trial is the verdict and conclusion of the procedure, its aim is closure and therewith the final erasure of the event from social 37 Justice and Memory.indb 37 02.11.2009 13:38:57 memory.9 There is a world of a difference between the legal witness testifying to a crime within the institution of the court and the “moral witness” (Avishai Margalit) testifying publicly to a crime against hu- manity outside the courtroom before a moral community. While the former’s narrative is subordinated to the legal process, the testimony of the latter is part of a civic culture of remembrance. A merging of the legal and therapeutic function was aimed at in the staging of remembering in South Africa. The Truth and Reconciliation Com- mission as designed by Bishop Tutu und Alex Boraine created a new form of public ritual, which combined features of the tribunal, the cathartic drama and the Christian confession. In these public rituals a traumatic event had to be publicly narrated and shared; the victim had to tell his or her experiences and they had to be witnessed and acknowledged by the accused before they could be erased from social memory. The model of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) was invented in South America when countries such as Chile, Uruguay, Argentina and Brazil transitioned from military dictatorships to de- mocracy in the 1980s and 90s. By enforcing the moral human rights paradigm, new political and extremely influential concepts were coined such as “human rights violations” and “state terrorism”. This led to the establishment of investigative commissions, which became the antecedent of later Truth commissions. They emphasised the transformative value of truth and stressed the importance of acts of remembrance. “‘Remember, so as not to repeat’ began to emerge as a message and as a cultural imperative.”10 Within the human rights framework, a new and highly influential concept of victimhood was constructed. It replaced the older frameworks within which power struggles used to be debated in terms of class struggles, national revo- lutions or political antagonisms. By resorting to the universal value of bodily integrity and human rights, the new terminology depoliti- cised the conflict and led to the elaboration of memory policies.11 In the new framework of a human rights agenda and a new memory culture, other forms of state violence could also be addressed such as racial and gender discrimination, repression and the rights of indigenous people. When decades and sometimes centuries elapse after a traumatic past, justice in the full sense is no longer possible; memory, however, was discovered as an important symbolic resource 38 Justice and Memory.indb 38 02.11.2009 13:38:57 to retrospectively acknowledge these crimes against humanity. What the transnational movement of abolition was for the 19th century, the new transnational concept of victimhood is for the late 19th and early 20th century. The important change is, however, that now the victims speak for themselves and claim their memories in a globalised public arena. The dissemination of their voices and their public visibility and audibility has created a new “world ethos” that is not automati- cally enforced but makes it increasingly difficult for state authorities to continue a repressive policy of forgetting and silence. A new response to the disenfranchised discourse of human rights and mutual global media observation is the memory policy of public apology. We are without doubt, writes Christopher Daase, “living in an age of political apologies: The Pope apologises for the inquisition, the United Nations apologise for their inactiveness during the genocide in Rwanda, the Queen apologises for the repression of the Maori in New Zealand, President Jacques Chirac for the Dreyfus affair and President Bill Clinton for the slave trade.”12 The list can go on and it does go on. Whatever we may think of these acts, they are evidence of new departures in the construction of nations as moral communities in the contemporary world of media observation. Democratic states and their societies distinguish themselves from others in taking the principles of care and public accountability seriously.13 This involves a new memory policy and culture of remembrance that addresses unresolved issues of the past and listens with empathy to the voices of victims. The TRC in South Africa placed “truth” (rather than justice) in the first position. It was inspired by the idea of reconciliation and hence by negotiation, compromise and an orientation towards integration and a new beginning. Today there are almost thirty TRCs working all over the world, where the rules of the procedure have to be reinvented each time according to the specific circumstances. Their aim is first and foremost a pragmatic one: they are designed as instruments for “mastering the past”.14 The fact that the equivalent German term “Vergangenheitsbewältigung” has a negative ring is another indicator of the difference between the second and the third model that I am here proposing. Vergangenheitsbewältigung in the sense of mastering the past is the explicit aim of the third model, while perpetual preservation of a normative past is the aim of the second model. We have learned 39 Justice and Memory.indb 39 02.11.2009 13:38:57 in the meantime that a new beginning cannot be forged on a tabula rasa, nor is there such a thing as a zero hour. To begin anew requires not forgetting but remembering. The road from authoritarian to civil societies leads through the needle’s eye of facing, remembering and coming to terms with a burdened past. The transformation process of memory that starts with TRC commissions on the political level has to be deepened on the social level, which takes much more time. But however long it may take and how deep it may go, remember- ing is not the aim of the process but only its medium. The aim is to facilitate recognition, reconciliation and, eventually, “forgetting” in the sense of putting a traumatic past behind in order to be able to imagine a common future. 4. Dialogic Remembering With the third model, we have looked at cases in which a state transi- tions from dictatorship to democracy or confronts a traumatic history in order to create a shared moral consensus within its nation and society. My fourth model applies to situations that transcend such internal reconstructions of nations and societies. It concerns the memory policy of two or more states that share a common legacy of traumatic violence. Two countries engage in a dialogic memory if they face a shared history of mutual violence by mutually acknowledging their own guilt and empathy with the suffering they have inflicted on others. As a rule, national memories are not dialogic but monologic. They are constructed in such a way that they are identity-enhancing and self-celebrating; their main function is generally to “enhance and celebrate” a positive collective self image. National memories are self-serving and therein closely aligned to national myths, which Peter Sloterdijk has appropriately termed modes of “self-hypnosis”. With respect to traumatic events, these myths provide effective protection shields against events that a nation prefers to forget. When facing negative events in the past, there are only three dignified roles for the national collective to assume: that of the victor who has overcome the evil, that of the resistor who has heroically fought the evil and that of the victim who has passively suffered the evil. Everything else lies 40 Justice and Memory.indb 40 02.11.2009 13:38:58 outside the scope of these memory perspectives and is conveniently forgotten. After the Second World War, for instance, with the Germans in the evident role of the perpetrators, all the other national memories chose one of these dignified positions: the narrative of the victor was that of the allies, the narrative of the resistor was assumed by the GDR and by France, the narrative of the victim was chosen by Poland and Austria. After 1989 and the demise of the Soviet Union, the opening of Eastern European archives brought to light a number of documents that challenged some of these clear-cut memory constructions. The Holocaust that had been a peripheral site in the Second World War moved gradually into its center to become its defining event. In the light of this shift in historical perspective, new evidence of active collaboration, passive support, and indifference to the crime of the Holocaust brought about a crisis in national memories. In Western Europe, the national constructions of memory have become more complex through the acknowledgement of collaboration. In many Eastern states, however, the memory of the Holocaust has to com- pete with the memory of one’s own victimhood and suffering under communist oppression which is a hot memory that emerged only after the end of the cold war. Because there is a notorious shortage in memory capacity the atrocities that one has suffered claim more space than the atrocities that one has committed. Another lack of dialogic memory has become manifest in the rela- tions between Russia and Eastern European nations. While Russian memory is centered around the great patriotic war and Stalin is cel- ebrated today as the national hero, the nations that broke away from Soviet power maintain a strikingly different memory of Stalin that has to do with deportations, forced labor and mass-killings. The tri- umphalist memory of Russia and the traumatic memory of Eastern European nations clash at the internal borders of Europe and fuel continuous irritations and conflicts. There are dark incidents that are well known to historians and emphatically commemorated by the traumatized country but totally forgotten by the nation that was immediately responsible for the suffering. While in the mean time they have learned a lot about the Holocaust, younger Germans today know next to nothing about the legacy of the Second World War and the atrocities committed by 41 Justice and Memory.indb 41 02.11.2009 13:38:58 Germans against, for instance, their Polish and Russian neighbours. The Warsaw uprising, a seminal event commemorated in Poland, is unknown to Germans because it is fully eclipsed by the Warsaw ghetto uprising. Germans have rightly reclaimed the area bombing of Dresden for their national memory, but they have totally forgot- ten a key event of Russian memory, namely the Leningrad Blockade (1941–44) by the German Wehrmacht, through which 700.000 Russians were starved to death.15 This event has never entered German national memory due to a lack of interest, empathy and external pressure. There are promising beginnings between teachers and historians of neighbouring countries working on shared textbooks and mutual perceptions. On the whole, however, dialogic memory is still more of a project than a reality and is best exemplified by its absence. It must be emphasised, however, that the European Union creates a challenge to the solipsistic constructions of national memory and provides an ideal framework for dialogic remembering. As we all know, the European Union is itself the consequence of a traumatic legacy of an entangled history of unprecedented violence. If it is to develop further from an economic and political network to a com- munity of values, the sharing of traumatic memories will have to play an important part in this process. Janusz Reiter, the former Polish ambassador to Germany, commented on this situation: “With respect to its memories, the European Union remains a split continent. After its extension, the line that separated the EU from other countries now runs right through it.” On the occasion of the 60th anniversary of the liberation of Buchenwald, the former prisoner of the concentration camp Jorge Semprún said that one of the most effective possibili- ties to forge a common future for the EU is “to share our past, our remembrance, our hitherto divided memories”. And he added that the Eastern extension of the EU can only work “once we will be able to share our memories, including those of the countries of the other Europe, the Europe that was caught up in Soviet totalitarianism”.16 As early as the 1920s, the historian Marc Bloch criticised the mono- logic character of national memory constructions, describing their solipsistic nature as a “dialogue between the deaf”. 80 years after Bloch the European Union is offering a framework which makes possible and demands the restructuring of monologic into dialogic memories. Dialogic remembering which is, of course, applicable in 42 Justice and Memory.indb 42 02.11.2009 13:38:58 any region of the world has a special relevance for Europe; it could produce a new type of nation state that is not exclusively grounded in pride but also accepts its quantum of guilt, thus ending a destruc- tive history of violence by including the victims of this violence into one’s own memory. Such an inclusive memory, which is based on the moral standard of accountability and human rights, can in turn help to back up the protection of human rights and support the values of a civil society. Dialogic remembering links two nations through their common knowledge of a shared legacy of a traumatic past. This, however, does by no means entail a unified master narrative for Europe. Richard Sennet has remarked that it needs a plurality of contesting memo- ries in order to acknowledge uncomfortable facts. That is exactly the potential that the frame of the EU has to offer: the transforming of solipsistic into dialogic memories, even though it may take another shift of sensibility before this potential will eventually be embraced by its member states. Conclusion The Israeli writer Amos Oz once remarked: “If I had a say in the peace talks – no matter where, in Wye, Oslo or wherever – I would instruct the sound technicians to turn off the microphones as soon as one of the negotiating parties starts talking about the past. They are paid for finding solutions for the present and the future.”17 Un- fortunately, issues concerning the confronting of the past and the solving of urgent problems for the future are not always so easy to sever. On the contrary, all over the world acts of remembering are today part and parcel of the project of establishing the foundations of a more just society and a better future. It must be conceded, however, that memories are double-edged and can promote integration as well as disintegration: they are both part of the problem (as Amos Oz suggests) and of its solution. Whether memories are part of the problem by prolonging inequality and violence or whether they are a means to overcome it depends on the way they are framed in a given political and social situation. In my paper, I have focused on four models that have been devised and ap- 43 Justice and Memory.indb 43 02.11.2009 13:38:58 plied to cope with a traumatic legacy of the past and to forge a new beginning. The first model, dialogic forgetting was prescribed to achieve the closure of a violent past in a symmetric situation of power. Forgetting or silence can only work to create the basis for a new future if the ag- gression was not one-sided but mutual. While repressive silence is the “natural state” that continues the violence by prolonging oppressive power relations, protecting the perpetrators and harming the victims, dialogic silence is built on a mutual agreement. The second model, remembering in order to never forget, has to be considered as the unique answer to the unique historic trauma of the Holocaust. The shift from forgetting to remembering, which is linked to the Jewish trauma and evolved over the last four decades, has irreversibly changed our moral sensibility on a global scale. While the memory of the Holocaust was conducive to the emergence of other memories, it did not, I would claim, become theirmodel. The Holocaust is unique given the methods of its execution and the number of irredeemable and irreconcilable victims. The answer to it is a monumental memory that is semi-religious and an end in itself. The third model is not unique at all but has been replicated in variations all over the world. It can be paraphrased as remembering in order to eventually forget in the sense of mastering the past and putting it behind. I wanted to show that there is a clear difference between the semi-religious memorialisation of the past (my second model) and the mastering of the past (Vergangenheitsbewältigung), which calls for moral accountability with respect to atrocities com- mitted in the past. Not only punishments but also “public displays of remorse, no matter whether they stem from instrumental, rhetorical or normative motivations, are central elements of collective conflict resolution and reconciliation processes”.18 The last model is again dialogic and relational, this time applied between states (but also possible for groups within one state). Dia- logic remembering transforms a traumatic history of violence into an acknowledgement of guilt. On the basis of this shared knowledge the two states can coexist peacefully rather than be exposed to the pressure of periodical eruptions of scandals and renewed violence. For the fourth model, however, there are as yet only few illustrations. It is still best described by its conspicuous absence. 44 Justice and Memory.indb 44 02.11.2009 13:38:58 Memories, to sum up, are dynamic. What is being remembered of the past is largely dependent on the cultural frames, moral sensi- bilities and demands of the ever-changing present. During the cold war, the memory of the Second World War was very different from today, the Holocaust has moved from the periphery to the center of West European memory only during the last two decades, but also other historic traumas went through periods of latency before they became the object of remembering and commemoration. Today, na- tional memories emerge and are presented in a transnational if not in a global arena where they coexist in a web of mutual contiguities, references, imitations and reactions. Remembering trauma evolves between the extremes of keeping the wound open on the one hand and looking for closure on the other. It takes place simultaneously on the separate but interrelated levels of individuals, of society and the state. It therefore has a psychological, a moral and a political dimension. But we must not forget that it also has a religious dimension when it comes to the proper burying as a prerequisite for the memory of the dead. It is precisely this cultural and religious duty of laying the dead to rest, that is so shockingly disrupted after periods of excessive violence. In the case of millions of Jewish victims, there are no graves because their bodies were gassed, burnt and dissolved into air. For this reason this wound cannot be closed. At other places the victims were “disappeared” or shot and hid in anonymous mass graves. Some of these, relating to the Span- ish civil war, are reopened only now after more than 70 years.19 After the politicians and the society have expressed their respect for the victims, it is finally up to the family members to perform these last acts of reverence. Notes 1 MARGALIT 2003: p. vii–ix. 2 Machiavelli once warned the victors that it is easy to conquer a people, but next to impossible to conquer their memories. Unless they are scattered and dispersed, the citizens of a conquered city will never forget their former freedom and their old memories. They will introduce them on the every occasion that presents itself. MACHIAVELLI 1955: p.19. 3 EMRICH, SMITH 1996; MARGALIT, SMITH 1997. 45 Justice and Memory.indb 45 02.11.2009 13:38:58 4 LORAUX 1997. 5 The peace treaty (Instrumentum Pacis Osnabrugensis of 24th October 1648) contains the following article: “Both sides grant each other a perpetual forgetting and amnesty concerning every aggressive act committed in any place in any way by both parties here and there since the beginning of the war.” BUSCHMANN 1994: p. 17. 6 See ASSMANN, FREVERT 1999: pp. 76–78. 7 JUDT 2005. 8 A problematic side effect of this model is the perpetuation of a neat division of perpetrators and victims which is programmed and transmitted as fixed an im- mutable across generations in the respective national memories into an indefinite future. It may constrain the capacity of these nations for re-imagining themselves in the future. It also has an effect on the possibility of social and political coexist- ence within a state. The former victims and former perpetrators of the genocide are today separated in different nations: Israel and The United States on the one hand and Germany (together with Austria and other collaborating nations) on the other. Germany, however, is also becoming the site of growing Jewish communities which was possible only on the basis of a clear and responsible relation of the Germans to their past, an exemplary attitude that was ironically referred to as the German DIN- norm of remembering. The coexistence of Jews with Germans in the former country of the perpetrators is highly complicated; it requires them necessarily to reinforce their difference and to take a kind of extraterritorial position. 9 SHENNE 2007: pp. 79–91. 10 JELIN 2006: p. 5; see also JELIN 2003. 11 JELIN 2006: p. 6. 12 DAASE 2009. 13 BORNEMANN 2002: pp. 281–304; BENNETT 2008. 14 See HAZAN 2007. The edition of May 2007 is dedicated to the problem of re- establishing justice after armed conflicts. 15 To quote from a recent historical account: The siege of Leningrad was “an inte- gral part of the unprecedented German war of extermination against the civilian population of the Soviet Union. (. . .) Considering the number of victims and the permanence of the terror, it was the greatest catastrophe that hit a city during the Second World War. The city was cut off from the outside world for almost 900 days from September 7th to 27th January 1944.” GANZENMÜLLER 2005: p. 20. See also JAHN 2007. 16 SEMPURÚN 2005. 17 OZ 1998: p. 83. 18 DAASE 2009. 19 INGENDAAY 2008: p. 40. Bibliography 46 Justice and Memory.indb 46 02.11.2009 13:38:59 Bibliography A. ASSMANN, U. FREVERT, Geschichtsvergessenheit, Geschichtsvers- essenheit. Vom Umgang mit deutschen Vergangenheiten nach 1945, Stuttgart: DVA, 1999. J. C. BENNETT, The Apology Ritual. A Philosophical Theory of Punish- ment, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008. J. BORNEMANN, Reconciliation after Ethnic Cleansing: Listening, Retribution, Affiliation, in Public Culture, Volume 14, Number 2, Spring 2002, pp. 281–304. A. BUSCHMANN, Kaiser und Reich. Verfassungsgeschichte des Heiligen Römischen Reiches Deutscher Nation vom Beginn des 12. Jahrhunderts bis zum Jahre 1806 in Dokumenten, Baden-Baden: Nomos, 1994. C . DAASE, <bundesstiftung-friedensforschung.net/projektfoerd- erung/forschung/daase.html>, 9.3.2009. H. EMRICH, G. SMITH (eds.), Vom Nutzen des Vergessens, Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 1996. J. GANZENMÜLLER, Das belagerte Leningrad 1941–1944. Die Stadt in den Strategien von Angreifern und Verteidigern, Paderborn: Schön- ingh, 2005. P. HAZAN, Das neue Mantra der Gerechtigkeit, in Überblick. Deutsche Zeitschrift für Entwicklungspolitik, Mai 2007. T. HENNE, Zeugenschaft vor Gericht, in M. ELM, G. KÖSSLER (eds.), Zeugenschaft des Holocaust. Zwischen Trauma, Tradierung und Ermit- tlung, Frankfurt–New York: Campus, 2007. P. INGENDAAY, Der Bürgerkrieg ist immer noch nicht vorbei, in FAZ Nr. 276, 15. November 2008. P. JAHN, 27 Millionen, in Die ZEIT Nr. 25, 14. Juni 2007. E. JELIN, State Repression and the Labors of Memory, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2003. E. JELIN, Memories of State Violence: The Past in the Present, Storrs, Human Rights Institute, University of Connecticut 2006. T. JUDT, Postwar. A History of Europe Since 1945, Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 2005. N. LORAUX, La Cité divisée. L’Oubli dans la Mémoire d’Athènes, Paris : Payot, 1997. N. MACHIAVELLI, Der Fürst, Stuttgart: Kröner, 1955. 47 Justice and Memory.indb 47 02.11.2009 13:38:59 A. MARGALIT, G. SMITH (eds.), Amnestie, oder Die Politik der Erin- nerung, Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1997. A. MARGALIT, The Ethics of Memory, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2003. A. OZ, Israelis und Araber: Der Heilungsprozeß, in Trialog der Kulturen im Zeitalter der Globalisierung, Sinclair–Haus Gespräche, 11. Gespräch 5.–8. Dezember 1998, Herbert Quandt-Stiftung, Bad Homburg v.d. Höhe. J. SEMPURÚN, Nobody will be able any more to say: this is how it was!, in Die Zeit, 14. April 2005. (Transl. A.A.) 48 Justice and Memory.indb 48 02.11.2009 13:38:59 Justice, Truth, and Peace Three Dimensions of Consequences Anton Pelinka In dealing with war crimes and crimes against humanity, three differ- ent, sometimes conflicting patterns have been developed since 1945. The three patterns can be distinguished according to their different guarding principles: – Justice: Perpetrators must be brought to court and convicted. – Truth: All major aspects of the crimes must become known to the public. – Peace: At the end of any process, social reconciliation must become possible. The paper’s basic hypothesis is: In the short run, neglecting justice and truth in favour of peace and reconciliation may have a positive impact on stabilizing democracy in a peaceful way; but in the long run, such neglect has its price especially regarding social peace. The three patterns are not necessarily conflicting. In many cases – especially after World War II, in the Nuremberg and Tokyo Trials and in the occupation policies in Germany and Japan – an optimum had been found in combining all three goals. But in some cases, an approach has been used to promote one of the three patterns by giv- ing that pattern priority over the others. The South African Truth Commissions are not primarily oriented on establishing justice; and in some other cases, like in the first years of post-Franco Spain, peace by reconciliation is the dominant purpose – if necessary, at the cost of justice and truth. The paper will try to deal with these three patterns by elaborating three dimensions: 49 Justice and Memory.indb 49 02.11.2009 13:38:59 – First, stressing the necessity to go beyond a pure functionalist ap- proach; beyond the aspect of constructing, deconstructing, and reconstructing history. Despite the not disputed importance of the functionalist approach – who (de- or re-) constructed specific events out of specific interests to be allowed speaking of “truth”, the substance of the instrumentalised events are central. Without the insistence on referring to reality, on proving reality, on meas- uring reality, the discourse about justice, truth and peace becomes an arbitrary meta-debate. Without comparing the quality and the quantity of evidence, any debate about conflicting narratives is losing any kind of academic liability and responsibility. – Secondly, distinguishing between elites and society. Justice especially cannot be implemented in the same way for elites and for societies. As justice has to be always seen as linked to personal responsibility, justice for persons accused of crimes is a completely different mat- ter than justice for a nation or a country. And: Reconciliation as the main purpose of educating a new generation is a very different matter than reconciliation between the leaders of warring armies, factions, nations. – Thirdly, discussing the phenomena of the intergenerational trans- fer. It is evident that some of the most horrendous crimes became more of a mobilizing factor after one (or even more) generation. Narratives can be of very secondary importance after one genera- tion; others are of even more defining power after decades. To get an understanding of this dimension, the reference to the real past – beyond (de-, re-) construction is necessary. – Substituting for a systematic conclusion, at the end the case of Aus- tria is used as an example: How reconciliation has its price – neglect- ing justice, covering up truth; and how the short-term advantages of this kind of reconciliation have their long-term disadvantages. Austria’s two different reconciliations – regarding the end of the First Republic 1934 and regarding the Austrian involvement in the Nazi regime, including all its crimes – have some distinct Austrian qualities; but they can also be seen as an example for the logics truth and justice are linked to reconciliation and peace. 50 Justice and Memory.indb 50 02.11.2009 13:38:59 Dimension 1: Which tragedy, which trauma? It is not sufficient to debate the “meta level” – the meaning, the percep- tion, the interpretation of certain facts. It is not enough to talk about the interests behind a specific narrative. It is necessary to go into the substance. It is necessary to distinguish: tragedy is not tragedy is not tragedy; mass murder is not mass murder; war is not war. The Baltic Republics today are confronted with a discourse about the different Holocausts.1 There is much talk of a “Holocaust against the Lithuanian (or Latvian or Estonian) people” – a term which equates the Soviet policy of violent (better: murderous) expulsion of the Lithuanian (or Latvian or Estonian) elites and the policy of Russification with the extermination of Jews. Is any tragedy called “Holocaust” identical to what became “the” Holocaust? To answer this question, we have to go into the substance: The expulsion of the elites in the Baltic states, combined with murderous methods; and the promotion of Russian migration into the Baltic region must be called a crime, can be called a crime against humanity – but trying to kill all the members of a society (and almost succeeding in this) is different from killing the elites of a society in order to get control over that society. The intention of Soviet policy even under Stalin was not the annihilation of any kind of Lithuanian or Latvian or Estonian society. The intention of the Nazi policy was to kill anyone defined as Jewish – was to annihilate any kind of Jewish existence, of Jewish society. Underlining this substantial difference cannot and must not be understood as an attempt to neglect the systematic crimes against the Baltic societies. But it is necessary to stress the difference of the general fate of Jews in the Baltic under Nazi rule – and the general fate of Lithuanians, Latvians, and Estonians under Soviet rule. It is necessary to compare: The “ethnic cleansing” in Poland, Czech- oslovakia, and Yugoslavia in 1945 can be called a crime – and must be called a systematic crime as it contradicts basic human rights. But it is not on the same level – neither quantitatively, nor qualitatively with the Holocaust. It is necessary to learn about and to understand the Palestinian narrative of 1948. But comparing it with the Holocaust: while there is reason to condemn the treatment of the Palestinians in 1948 and the years after as a violation of basic rights, it is – again, 51 Justice and Memory.indb 51 02.11.2009 13:38:59 in its qualitative and quantitative dimension – different from the Holocaust. The Holocaust is not “unique”, but “unprecedented”. But this implies a dreadful possibility: “Although the Holocaust has no prec- edent, it could become one.”2 This potential of the future opens the debate again to simplifications: Is the fate of Bosniaks in the former Yugoslavia in 1995, the fate of Sudanese in Darfur after 2000 not only comparable but identical with the fate of the European Jews between 1939 and 1945? Again: It is necessary to compare the quality of mass murder – the intention of the perpetrators and the consequence of their deeds; and it is necessary to compare the quantity – what is the percentage of the victims able to survive? Fascism is not Fascism is not Fascism. Too easily the term fascism is used to blur significant differences between different regimes. Spain under Franco is not Italy under Mussolini is not Austria under Dollfuß is not Portugal under Salazar is not Hungary under Horthy – and they all are not Germany under Hitler. All these different types of fascism or semi-fascism have a lot in common – non-democratic rule, oppression of political opponents, ending the rule of law. But the intensity of suppression as well as the existence of a monopolistic mass party make a lot of difference – not to speak of the Holocaust which is the decisive quality of Nazism and not of fascism in general. Neither Dollfuß’ Austria nor Mussolini’s Italy, neither Franco’s Spain nor Salazar’s Portugal are responsible for a Holocaust like mass murder. But Pavelic’s Croatia can be and probably must be put into the same category as Hitler’s Germany. And Horthy’s Hungary? It is once more necessary to compare: Hungary before and after March 1944 – when, after German troops occupied Hungary, the Hungarian government voluntarily cooperated with the German-inspired and controlled extermination policy, very much like the Vichy government did in France. Everything can be, must be compared with everything – but nothing is the same. Comparing is not equating – on the contrary, if we insist that Cambodia’s “killing fields” is not the same kind of tragedy, and especially not the same kind of crime (neither in quantitative, nor in qualitative terms) as the GDR-regime, we have to compare first. If we insist that Franco’s regime has been a very different form of fascism, different from Hitler’s regime and German fascism, we have 52 Justice and Memory.indb 52 02.11.2009 13:39:00 to compare first. If we insist that dictatorship is not dictatorship, our evaluation must be based on solid comparison – on what else? Ethnic cleansing is not ethnic cleansing is not ethnic cleansing. Czechoslovakia 1945 is not Israel 1948 is not Greece and Turkey in the 1920s is not the USSR in the 1940s. Ethnic cleansing may imply genocidal consequences, but ethnic cleansing per se is not the Holo- caust. The politically motivated and government controlled Arme- nian massacre of 1915 cannot be equated with the principally agreed population exchange between Greece and Turkey almost one decade later – despite the fact that a chain of basic human rights’ violations characterised the consensual population exchange. The partition of British India had disastrous consequences in 1947. But the millions who migrated as part of the population exchange in the Subcontinent and hundreds of thousands killed in the process of hate mobilisa- tion is not the same as government intended and implemented mass murder as it was the case in Cambodia three decades later. To come to such a judgment, to come to any judgment, we have to compare first. War crimes are not war crimes are not war crimes are not war crimes. Warsaw and Rotterdam, results of an aggressive warfare, are not the same as Hamburg and Dresden, results of a defensive warfare. Japan’s aggression against China and Germany’s aggression against Poland and the USSR – they are not on the same level as Hiroshima. We can argue that Dresden and Hiroshima have been war crimes – but they were on a different level than bombing the civilians in Polish cities as early as September 1939. To say this, we have to compare first. Concentration Camp is not Concentration Camp is not Concentra- tion Camp. The British Camps in South Africa during the Boer War are not Dachau – and Dachau is not Wöllersdorf. But neither Dachau nor Wöllersdorf are Treblinka. We have to compare – the horror in quantitative as well as in qualitative respects. We may compare on the meta-level: The use the British wartime propaganda made of Coventry – and the use the revisionist post-1945 propaganda is making use of Dresden. But we have to compare the realities, we have to compare the substance first and foremost: What does Treblinka stand for – objectively; and what does Wöllersdorf stand for – not as a symbol of Austria’s semi-fascist dictatorship between 1934 and 1938, but as a repressive instrument to control political opposition. 53 Justice and Memory.indb 53 02.11.2009 13:39:00 There is no reason to justify such a camp – but it was a camp decisively different from the extermination camps in Poland. The Palestinian narrative emphasises the significance of the Nakba of 1948: the mass migration – partly forced by an Israeli policy which must be called “ethnic cleansing”. But accepting the narrative – that the Nakba was a catastrophe forced on the Palestinian people – is not accepting a possible equation: what the Holocaust has been for the Jews has been the Nakba for the Palestinian. The extermination of a people is not the same as the expulsion of a people from a certain territory. Again: Comparing two tragedies does neither mean equating them – nor trying to exculpate any systematic crime. If we don’t underline the difference we cannot prevent the trivi- alization of all the tragedies. If all evils are the same, the specific explanation of any kind of evil – holocaust, genocide, apartheid, ethnic cleansing, slavery, war, tyranny, intolerance – becomes blurred and at the end impossible to understand and to prevent its repeat. To underline the difference, we have to insist on one quite simple necessity: knowing the specific reality, knowing the specific truth of any tragedy. Dimension 2: Elites and societies Bringing elites to justice (Nuremberg, Tokyo, Arusha, The Hague) and reconciliation on the level of the societies are policies which can be followed at the same time. The approach the Allies followed begin- ning with 1945 in Germany is a good example: The leading person- nel of Nazi Germany was brought to justice – the Nuremberg Trials are the most visible case of this orientation. But the German society was to be “re-educated”: by restructuring schools and universities, by rewriting curricula, the German society was the object of a policy focused on reconciliation. Of course, we know that the Allies soon did fall into the trap of the Cold War: the Wernher von Braun case is the most prominent one that justice was stopped beginning with a certain date and regarding a certain group of people within the Nazi elite. In Austria, justice from the very beginning was in the hands of the Austrian elites. Very soon, it became a policy oriented on reconcili- 54 Justice and Memory.indb 54 02.11.2009 13:39:00 ation between the post- or even anti-Nazi elites and the Nazi elites. There has been an elitist bargain: The Nazi elites seemed to be able to deliver the voting bloc of the former Nazis – measured by member- ship figures of the Nazi Party that was about 15 to 20 percent of the Austrian electorate. And the Nazi elites received formal forgiveness – reintegration into careers, return of property, an overall respect- ability despite their past of active participation in a mass murderous regime. The Jews who had survived were treated less well – professors at universities, who lost their chairs in 1938, were not automatically reinstalled in their former positions; and what had happened to their property has been an ongoing story deep into the 21st century. The reason for this difference? There was no Jewish voting bloc to speak of after 1945. But there was a voting bloc of former Nazis. Reconciliation – between whom? Between bystanders and perpe- trators and victims, between different generations? Reconciliation – based on justice not done? Questions which must be raised and answered: Who participated in crimes, who has been responsible? Was it a bureaucratic mass murder – like Stalin’s Gulags – or was it a plebiscitarian mass murder, in which masses were not only on the victims’ side, but also on the side of the perpetrators, like Rwanda 1994? How to deal with the Rwanda phenomenon – when thousands and thousands participated in a murderous frenzy; when the society, and not just a political elite, acted as one collective murderer. The provocative nature of Daniel Goldhagen’s “Hitler’s Willing Ex- ecutioners” is to be seen exactly on that level: The Holocaust described, analysed, and explained not as the deeds of an elite, but of so many “ordinary Germans”. How to deal with the “banality of the evil”, if this implies that almost everybody could have become an Eichmann? How to accept Yehuda Bauer’s conclusion: “The horror of the Holo- caust is not that it deviated from human norms; the horror is that it didn’t”?3 “Justice” is the – necessary – answer to crimes individuals can be made responsible for: The Stangls and Eichmanns, the Görings and Himmlers. For the masses, for a society like the German (and Austrian) society in 1945, the first and foremost necessity is “truth” – the society must come to terms with the reality. “Justice” has been the purpose of Truth Commissions in South Africa.4 It is a possible way to combine the search for truth with the search for justice – with 55 Justice and Memory.indb 55 02.11.2009 13:39:00 respect to individuals. But how can justice be found for societies – for the German society in 1945, for the (“white”) South African Society in 1994 and after? Instruments like the Truth Commissions are able to open an insight into truth – and by doing so to start a process of reconciliation between societies, respectively sub-societies. “Reconciliation” is never a concept for elites – it is a concept for societies or sub-societies: like the Austrian “camps” fighting the civil war in 1934; like Catholics and Protestants in Northern Ireland. But “reconciliation” means nothing for the relationship between Arme- nians and Turks, not to speak of Germans and Jews. “Reconciliation” is a possible approach to overcome tragedies, crimes, atrocities – linked to a symmetrical conflict. It is no reasonable approach at all for an asymmetrical one. This implies one significant political consequence: without levelling the conflict between perpetrators and victims, reconciliation is not possible. Those identified as perpetrators – not as collective, but as individual perpetrators – have to be brought to justice first. Only then reconciliation between societies or sub-socie- ties is possible. “Reconciliation” may be possible, may be reasonable for the Catho- lic-conservative camp and for the Republican-leftist camp in Spain – but it is neither possible nor reasonable for the Khmer Rouge and those who barely survived the death camps in Cambodia between 1975 and 1978. “Reconciliation” is a concept which cannot succeed in completely unbalanced, asymmetrical conflicts where all the burden of victimhood is obviously on one side only. First, justice must be done. And only after that, Hutu and Tutsi can become reconciled. Any kind of reconciliation must be based on truth: The crimes of both sides in the Spanish civil war must be discussed. This does not mean that the two sides are on equal moral footing – but based on an interest in “truth”, two generations after the war the two sub-societies can come to terms with the past. Any reconciliation must be based on a minimum of justice: You cannot expect reconciliation between perpetrators and victims. There is the Jewish joke – in the meantime, it has become an old Jewish joke: The Germans will never forgive the Jews for the Holocaust. The underlying message is that you cannot reconcile two completely contradicting experiences – the experience of the murderer and the experience of the victim. It needs the acceptance of the truth – that 56 Justice and Memory.indb 56 02.11.2009 13:39:00 murder has been murder; that perpetrators have been perpetrators. And it needs justice to be done: murderers have to be brought to court, have to be brought to justice. After that – after, for example, the German and Austrian societies have learned to accept the realities of the Holocaust under the overall responsibility of Nazi authorities as well as the realities of the mass participation in the murder: only then something like reconciliation can begin. Dimension3: The generational gap “The ‘blocking of memory’ is not restricted to those on the Nazi side. Psychiatrists have dealt with thousands of victims of the Nazis over the years who have blocked just as desperately . . .”5 The task of uncovering the past is not only blocked by the intentional and unin- tentional interest of perpetrators – it is also blocked by the interest of victims. Tom Segev reminds us that Israel’s society started to become fully aware of the Holocaust not before the Kastner affair and the Eich- mann trial; not before the survivors had started to come to terms with the trauma of being alive as the “seventh million” – while six millions were unable to survive.6 The encyclopaedic work “The World Reacts to the Holocaust” explains that it needed one generation at least to define and to accept the full significance of the Holocaust: in Israel as well as in Germany, in the United States as well as in France.7 When did the Holocaust become such a dominant topic – as can be seen in the Holocaust memorials, in the Holocaust curricula, in Holocaust studies? Not before the 1970s! What Norman Finkelstein calls the “Holocaust Industry”, the “Shoa Business” did not exist in 1945. There was no such “industry”, there was no such “business” when Auschwitz was liberated and in the years after. It needed about one generation to make the extermination of European Jewry one of the central topics of public discourse and academic research especially in Europe and North America. It needed a new generation of non- or post-perpetrators as well as of non- or post-victims. The Armenian genocide – when did it become an international topic? When did Armenians succeed in making the events of 1915 an international agenda? The Armenian narrative is decisively in- 57 Justice and Memory.indb 57 02.11.2009 13:39:00 fluenced by the feeling that “Turkey” – an abstract actor – had never accepted responsibility. The memory of 1915 has been the justifica- tion of terrorist acts, of the killing of Turkish representatives more than half a century after the mass murder, after the genocide. 1915 has been on the agenda of Western Parliaments decades, generations later– like in France, when a majority was willing and able to define a murderous event almost one century after it had taken place. When became the “Indian Wars” a genocide-like crime against Na- tive Americans? When did the perception of colonising the Americas change? It changed generations, almost a century after the end of the “Indian Wars” in the United States. Centuries after the ethnic cleansing of American territory started, generations after the last Native Americans became victims of genocide-like crimes, “white” Americans developed collective empathy with the fate of American Indians – and a feeling of collective responsibility for crimes so deep in the past. Of course, it many cases this has a lot to do with economic devel- opments. Slavery became a moral issue in Europe and in America after industrialization had started to make slave labour more and more outdated and meaningless – from an economic point of view. Moral reasoning about the treatment of Native Americans became a dominant topic after the economic incentive behind the invasion of native territory has stopped – because there was no native territory any longer worth being taken away from its owners. But we have the generational gap also and especially visible in cases of terror in which economic reasoning did not play any significant part: The Holocaust was not the result of a business like cost-benefit analysis; the “blocking of memory” was not the consequence of having or losing economic interest in the extermination of Jews and Roma. Truth seems to be the central issue not immediately after a collec- tive tragedy – but one or more generations after. There is a tendency within the first generation – a tendency linking people identified as part of the perpetrator collective and people identified as part of victim collective – to play down the tremendous, the shattering quality of the monstrosity. It needs generational distance; it needs a new generation to ask the fathers “How could you have been part of such a criminal system?” but also “How could you not have forcefully resisted, how could you not have overcome your passivity?” 58 Justice and Memory.indb 58 02.11.2009 13:39:01 This implies a specific hypothesis for the future of the Russian discourse regarding Leninism as well as Stalinism. As there is – differ- ently from Germany 1945 – no intervening foreign actor, the “truth” about Stalin’s rule and its roots in Lenin’s doctrine and policies may become a mass mobilising debate not only after two, but perhaps after four or five generations after the Soviet regime’s implosion. There can be no Russian equivalent to the policy of “re-education” in Germany, beginning with 1945 – because there is no inter – or transnational ac- tor comparable to the US or the other allies. The revolt of a younger generation against the narratives of the older generation might take significantly longer in the Russian case than in Germany. But it can be expected that this generational revolt will come.8 Different generations have different reactions. This is the unavoid- able consequence of different memories. Blocking memories is the reaction of those who are overwhelmed by their personal history. Breaking the taboo of a history under cover for reasons of pragmatism and/or opportunism is more the reaction of those who speak for the collective memory of their parents or grandparents. “Breaking the silence” means the politization after a period of de-politization. To become a political issue, an issue challenging a more or less superficial peace of collective mind, the memory of deep tragedies had to be kept in the status of latency. The tragedy of the American Indians, of the Ottoman Armenians, of the European Jews and Roma had been known from the moment it had happened. But the political consequence – the mass mobilisation for the cry for justice, based on a deep feeling of horror independently of an individual fate – this needed time. This needed new generations. Political mobilisation as a ongoing protest against systematic crimes against humanity seems to be possible only when generations not af- fected directly and personally become deeply shocked and negatively fascinated by events of the past. It needs the post-perpetrators and the post-victims to shape an ardent political agenda out of so many individual memories. 59 Justice and Memory.indb 59 02.11.2009 13:39:01 The Case of Austria – a kind of summary The three different dimensions can be exemplified in the case of Austria in the 20th century. After 1945, Austria had to face two spe- cific tragedies – first, the civil war of 1934 and the following years of authoritarian, semi-fascist dictatorship; and, secondly, the year 1938, the “Anschluss”, and the seven years of Austria’s integration into Nazi Germany. When Austria – thanks to the Allies’ victory – became inde- pendent and democratic again, these two central events of Austria’s most recent history were treated in a very different way: – 1934, the end of Austria’s democracy and the Dollfuß-Schuschnigg- dictatorship were answered – after 1945 – by “peace as elitist reconcil- iation”. The two major political parties, successors of the two factions of the civil war, agreed to disagree regarding the reasons for the civil war and the quality of the authoritarian regime. Austria dealt with the tragedy of 1934 in form of a political coexistence of parties who behaved like partners in the international arena accepting that they have to live side by side despite principal differences. – 1938, the end of Austrian independence and the seven years of Nazi rule were answered by an intellectually inconsistent, but politically feasible double victims’ theory: For foreign purposes, Austria insisted it was the victim of Hitler-Germany, liberated by its own anti-Nazi resistance and by the Allies; for domestic purposes, Austria claimed the role of a different victim – the victim of fate, of all the foreign powers, or of any kind of forces beyond any kind of Austrian responsibility. Austria dealt with the tragedy of 1938 in form of the coexistence of different victims’ narratives. The coexistence between the two civil war camps was a horizontal coexistence: two partners did not try to find an overall truth or to insist on justice. Their coexistence was based on the acceptance of conflicting perception of truth – and the absence of justice. The coexistence between the different victims’ narratives was a vertical coexistence: The political elites ruling Austria from 1945 on created and/or accepted the need neither to look for truth – nor, and especially so, for justice. 60 Justice and Memory.indb 60 02.11.2009 13:39:01 There is a formula which seems to be so simple and convincing: Karl Kraus’ formula of the Dollfuß regime as the “lesser evil”. This formula is intellectually convincing: – The evil of the Dollfuß regime’s semi-fascism has to be put into the context of the years 1933 and 1934. Hitler’s regime, especially its visible brutality and its complete neglect of the rule of law, has been part of Dollfuß’ background. Before outlawing the Social Democrats, Dollfuß had outlawed the Nazi Party. Dollfuß was not only fighting the left, not only the forces defending the democratic republic, he was fighting Hitler also. – But Dollfuß’ regime was an evil: Breaking the rules of the demo- cratic constitution, introducing step by step a political monopoly for his own quasi-party (Vaterländische Front), suppressing basic freedoms like the freedom of the press, putting political opponents in camps without due process – this clearly means dictatorship, this cannot be seen as democracy in disguise. The first part of the formula is difficult to accept by the Austrian left – and the second part creates problems within the Catholic-conserva- tive camp which still sees, rightfully, Dollfuß as part of its collective history. To come to terms with this part of Austria’s history, it is necessary to go into the substance of the regime – its unfinished fascism, its al- liance with the church, its dependence on fascist Italy, and especially its repressive character. But it is also necessary to compare – Dollfuß was no Hitler, and nobody made this more evident than the Austrian Jewish community which tried to do everything to defend Austria’s independence against Nazi Germany – not because of the regime’s character, but because of Kraus’ formula of the lesser evil. After 1945, the political elites, reshaping an independent and demo- cratic Austria, agreed to disagree about the years between 1934 and 1938; but they agreed not to be bothered too much by the remnants of Nazism or by any Austrian responsibility for Hitler’s regime. At the beginning, the Allies forced the Austrians to do something. But soon, following the logic of maximizing votes and of the common interest not to be reminded of the different skeletons in the different 61 Justice and Memory.indb 61 02.11.2009 13:39:01 cupboards, Austria and the Austrian elites were happy to have the victims’ theory. The contradictions of the different Austrian narratives came into the open some decades after 1945 – when Simon Wiesenthal and Bruno Kreisky had their famous conflict9; but especially in 1986, when Kurt Waldheim’s election reflected a deep cleavage: not so much a cleavage between left and right; but much more of a cleavage between genera- tions. What had been fully covered by the elitist consensus after 1945 became uncovered – the elitist agreement regarding the narrative of the Nazi years; an agreement to live with different formulas like: – “If you make my Nazis an issue, I will make your Nazis an issue too”; – “We all have been victims – either as opponents of the Nazi regimes by that regime, or as Nazis by the allies”; – “The responsibility for the Nazi crimes is exclusively a German, not an Austrian responsibility”. By excluding the given complexities, a national narrative was con- structed with the necessary “smoothing and mitigating character”.10 It was a narrative streamlining contradicting realities and excluding any kind of serious comparison: between the victimhood of those who were the objects of the Nazi’s extermination policy – and those who had reason to see themselves as victims of the Allies’ war like the bombing; between those who had opposed the occupation in Austria in 1938 – and those who had welcomed it; between Austria as a state that had lost its independence – and Austria as a society with about the same percentage of Nazi perpetrators as the percentage of per- petrators in Germany. The post-1945 Austrian narrative was an elite consensus conceal- ing all the contradictions that did exist. It was reconciliation without truth. It may have its positive impact for identity- and nation building in Austria after 1945. But it had its price. And this became evident as soon as questions regarding the truth started to be asked – within Austria as well as from the outside. In Austria, it had been a new generation which started to challenge this consensus of convenience. 62 Justice and Memory.indb 62 02.11.2009 13:39:01 The first victim of this challenge had been Kurt Waldheim who did not understand why he became a symbol of intellectually and morally dubious compromises. The new generation was interested in the truth: The truth of Wald- heim, who can be called the average Austrian – before 1938, he was not a Nazi; between 1938 and 1945, he was not active in any kind of anti-Nazi resistance; and beginning with 1945, he was an Austrian patriot who did not want to speak of his years as a German intel- ligence officer in the Balkans. The truth came out into the open about the willingness of both major parties to accept former Nazis and permitting them to make significant political careers in Austria – no questions asked about their past. The truth became known – one generation after the liberation of Austria by the Allies. But what does that mean for justice? Austria is still on record that Austrian juries acquitted prominent Nazi criminals – like Franz Murer. The Austrian public prosecution took care that some mass murders – like the murderous physician Heinrich Gross – never had to face a jury. Justice has not been done.11 But did this mean recon- ciliation, did it mean peace? Yes and no. The events of May 15, 1955, are a good example for the reconciling effects the post-1945 consensus had: The words of Austria’s foreign minister Leopold Figl at the signing of the Austrian State Treaty, “Austria is free”, is an interesting contradiction to the Declaration of Independence that declared Austria to be free already on April 27, 1945. In this declaration, the Austrian government declared that Austria had been liberated from the Nazis by the Allies in 1945. Ten years later, the Austrian government declared Austria liberated once more – this time from their liberators of 1945. The Declaration of Independence excluded significant parts of the Austrian society – the Nazis could not see their defeat as liberation. But the second liberation united Nazis and Anti-Nazis: Everybody was liberated from everybody. It signifies reconciliation and domestic peace at a certain price – and this price was the negligence of truth as well as of justice. 63 Justice and Memory.indb 63 02.11.2009 13:39:02 Notes 1 LEVIN 1996: pp. 346–348; EZERGAILIS 1996: pp. 373–381. 2 BAUER 2002, p. 74. 3 BAUER 2002: p. 42. 4 MINOW 1998: p. 52–90. 5 SERENY 2001: p. 249. 6 SEGEV 1993. 7 WYMAN 1996. 8 BRENT 2008: pp. 288–325. 9 STÖGNER 2008: pp. 73–76. 10 HEER, WODAK in HEER, MANOSCHEK, POLLAK, WODAK 2008: p. 8. 11 MANOSCHEK, GELDMACHER 2006: pp. 582–584. Bibliography G.J. BASS, Stay the Hand of Vengeance. The Politics of War Crimes Tribu- nals, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2000. Y. BAUER, Rethinking the Holocaust, New Haven: Yale University Press (Nota Bene book), 2002. J. BRENT, Inside the Stalin Archives. Discovering the New Russia, New York: Atlas & Co, 2008. A. EZERGAILIS, Latvia, in WYMAN 1996, op.cit., pp. 354–387. N.O. FINKELSTEIN, The Holocaust Industry. Reflections on the Exploita- tion of Jewish Suffering, London–New York: Verso, 2000. D. J. GOLDHAGEN, Hitler’s Willing Executioners, New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1996. J. HAGAN, Justice in the Balkans. Prosecuting War Crimes in the Hague Tribunal, Chicago: Chicago University Press, 2003. H. HEER, W.MANOSCHEK, Alexander POLLAK, Ruth WODAK (eds.), The Discursive Construction of History. Remembering the We- hrmacht’s War of Annihilation, Houndsmills–New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008. P.B. HAYNER, Unspeakable Truths. Facing the Challenge of Truth Com- missions, New York–London: Routledge, 2002. S. KINZER, A Thousand Hills. Rwanda’s Rebirth and the Man Who Dreamed It, Hoboken, NJ: John Wiley & Sons, 2008. D. LEVIN, Lithuania, in WYMAN 1996, op.cit., pp. 325–353. 64 Justice and Memory.indb 64 02.11.2009 13:39:02 J. LUKACS, The Hitler of History. Hitler’s Biographers on Trial, London: Phoenix Press, 2002. J. LUKACS, Remembered Past. John Lukacs on History, Historians, and Historical Knowledge. A Reader, ed. by M.G. MALAVASI and J.O. NELSON, Wilmington, DE: ISI Books, 2005. W. MANOSCHEK, T. GELDMACHER, Vergangenheitspolitik, in H. DACHS et al. (eds.), Politik in Österreich. Das Handbuch, Vienna: Manz, 2006, pp. 577–593. M. MINOW, Between Vengeance and Forgiveness. Facing History after Genocide and Mass Violence, Boston: Beacon Press, 1998. M. MINOW, Breaking the Cycles of Hatred. Memory, Law, and Repair, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2002. A. PELINKA, Austria. Out of the Shadow of the Past, Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1998. T. SEGEV, The Seventh Million. The Israelis and the Holocaust, New York: Hill and Wang, 1993. G. SERENY, The German Trauma. Experiences and Reflections 1938–2001. London (Penguin Books), 2001. K. STÖGNER, Bruno Kreisky, Antisemitismus und der österreichische Um- gang mit dem Nationalsozialisms, in A. PELINKA, H. SICKINGER, K. STÖGNER (eds.), Kreisky – Haider. Bruchlinien österreichischer Identitäten, Wien: Braumüller, 2008, pp. 25–110. P. THALER, The Ambivalence of Identity. The Austrian Experience of Nation-Building in a Modern Society, West Lafayette, IN: Purdue University Press, 2001. R. WODAK et al.,“Wir sind alle unschuldige Täter!” Diskurshistorische Studien zum Nachkriegsantisemitismus, Frankfurt/Main: Suhrkamp, 1990. D. S. WYMAN (ed.), The World Reacts to the Holocaust, Baltimore, MD: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1996. 65 Justice and Memory.indb 65 02.11.2009 13:39:02 Justice and Memory.indb 66 02.11.2009 13:39:02 Transforming the Holocaust Remarks after the Beginning of the 21st Century Dirk Rupnow The remembrance of the Holocaust is in the midst of a profound change – it is a process that has become particularly visible since the turn of the millennium and that is far from being completed. After decades of denial, ignorance or only selective perception of the mass crimes against Jewry that were initiated by Germans and Austrians and committed with their collaborators in numerous European countries, these crimes now have arrived at the center of interest. For the EU in particular, the memory of the Holocaust has become a question of a common European identity, especially since the return of genocide to Europe in the time of civil war in former Yugoslavia. WWII and “Auschwitz” have become the negative founding myth of Europe. This is the case, at least, on the level of a politically staged, but also institutionalised self-conception.1 Moreover, the Holocaust seems to have achieved the status of a negative political, ethical, and cultural norm beyond the borders of Europe. But at the same time, the his- tory of WWII (and its aftermath, for example expulsions) and the Holocaust can still have dividing effects inside Europe. Transnational politics In the US the Holocaust had already been integrated into the con- struction of a US-American memory and identity in the 1980s and 1990s – for a number of domestic and external reasons. With regard to the character of the US as an immigrant country with European roots, the encounter of US soldiers with the Nazi atrocities at the end of the war and the role of the US in the postwar trials against war criminals this is not at all surprising. But in the meantime even in Japan, nearby Hiroshima, exists a Holocaust Education Centre and 67 Justice and Memory.indb 67 02.11.2009 13:39:02 in Cape Town, South Africa, a Holocaust Museum. In the debates on the domestic Apartheid regime the Nazi anti-Jewish politics of persecution and extermination served as a backdrop and point of comparison, a benchmark for one’s own problematic past – not at all without controversy. The engagement with the Holocaust far away from its events be- comes a means of dealing with other historical experiences of mass violence and victimhood. The Holocaust evolved as a role model for methods and forms of coming to terms with conflictive and traumatic pasts. Primarily through the attempts to compensate for the crimes with restitutions and reparations it has become a worldwide point of reference and comparison for crimes against humanity, in the hope of recognition and compensation. Beyond the national contexts, a discrete transnational politics of Holocaust memory has evolved at the end of the 20th and the begin- ning of the 21st century, carried out, for example, by the EU and the UN: the “Task Force for International Cooperation on Holocaust Education, Remembrance and Research” (1998), the Stockholm In- ternational Forum on the Holocaust: A Conference on Education, Remembrance, and Research (2000), the UN’s “Holocaust Outreach Programme” (2005) and the establishment of January 27th – the day of the liberation of the Auschwitz concentration and extermination camp – as an international day of remembrance for the victims of the Holocaust bear witness to that.2 Already in 1979 Auschwitz-Birk- enau became a UNESCO World Heritage site (with a significant name change from “Auschwitz Concentration Camp” to “Auschwitz Birkenau: German Nazi Concentration and Extermination Camp 1940–1945” in 2007 at the request of the Polish government). And the Ringelblum Underground Archives from the Warsaw Ghetto were registered as a “Witness to the Holocaust” in the UNESCO Memory of the World list in 1999. Compensation payments (for example for forced labourers) and restitution along with the work of historical commissions established new instruments and standards for dealing with problematic pasts.3 A country’s attitude in relation to the Holocaust, and possibly its own complicity with Nazi crimes, has become a criterion among others for whether countries are suitable for EU membership. How countries deal with their national past, the recognition of a particular histori- 68 Justice and Memory.indb 68 02.11.2009 13:39:02 cal narrative has become the billet d’entrée to the Western world. A country’s reaction to the Holocaust, understood as a paradigmatic crime against humanity, counts as a litmus test for its current position in relation to human rights questions and its democratic culture. Alongside a “particularistic” reading, focusing exclusively on Ger- mans as perpetrators and Jews as victims, a “universal” reading of the Holocaust has been established: In some constellations, the Holocaust discourse has been separated from historical events and has become a metaphor for “the evil” in general. Not only different groups of victims (for example Sinti and Roma, Homosexuals) compete for recognition and attention within the Holocaust discourse – beyond it, victims of other crimes against humanity try to associate themselves with it. The Holocaust seems to be the only historical event that attracts attention worldwide – even where it is denied or only used for a com- parison with other mass crimes – and that resulted in such concerted international efforts to institutionalise and standardise its memory. That sets it apart from other events that have undoubtedly compara- ble transnational dimensions (like WWI) but that do not attract that much interest. The transnational dimension is inherent in the Holocaust; it derives from its spatial extension: anti-Jewish discrimination, theft, and mass murder occurred all over Europe. The European and global dimen- sion of the Holocaust discourse is for one the result of this spatial aspect as well as of emigration and expulsion because of Nazi policies. But more important, it is also the flipside of the universal claim of National Socialism’s racist, anti-Semitic ideology, which negates all moral boundaries, that turns the German mass murder and crimes into a universal ethical challenge. The national cultures of remembrance are no longer separated from each other, which, in a strict sense, they probably never have been. But that is even truer in an age of global communication, mass media, and mass tourism. Today’s entire Holocaust discourse can only be understood simultaneously in its international context and its national connections. This is not only true for politics and public rituals but for all kinds of representation of the past, as well as for legal practices and restitution. This current phase received its dynamic above all through the collapse of the Communist regimes 69 Justice and Memory.indb 69 02.11.2009 13:39:03 in Eastern Europe at the end of the1980s. Before, the Cold War had somehow frozen the memory of the Holocaust and WWII. Only in the past decades have most European countries begun to discuss their own involvement and participation. After a short phase of “dealing with the past” in the immediate postwar period, such discourses had been silenced to a large degree for almost four decades. The lifting of ideological blockages through the collapse of the Communist regimes in Eastern Europe made not only the actual crime scenes of the mass murder accessible but also resulted in a new perception of the European dimension of the Holocaust. National memories In many European countries, however, different historical experi- ences of dictatorship and violence intersect. While the Holocaust has become the object of transnational European and global politics of memory and the EU as well as the UN made efforts to institutional- ize its remembrance, other historical experiences of dictatorship and violence came to the fore, above all of Communist rule in Eastern Europe after the end of WWII, often implicitly reevaluating and sani- tizing authoritarian regimes of the interwar and war period as ideals of nationalistic politics and milestones on the way to independence. These different pasts and their victims compete for public and also political recognition. In many cases it is hard to identify victims and perpetrators unambiguously, with far-reaching consequences for the national memories.4 Most recently, in addition to that, immigration into Western Euro- pean countries begins to influence discourses about the past: Other perspectives on WWII and the Holocaust or completely different memories and pasts are being imported into the national cultures of memory for which references to a specific European history and understanding of the 20th century, to patterns of guilt and responsibil- ity cannot count as self-evident. Divers and multi-identitary societies, that are increasingly shaped by immigration, cannot be reduced any- more to one binding and authoritative historical narrative but hold divergent and contradictory images and conceptions of history and – first of all – different historical experiences.5 It goes without saying 70 Justice and Memory.indb 70 02.11.2009 13:39:03 that national memories or cultures of memory were never monolithic and uniform but always shaped by competing, conflicting private and local, group specific and institutional memories – but now we seem to be confronted with a different level of fragmentation in our societies. Despite the central position it has obtained by now, the meaning and significance of the Holocaust cannot be seen as undisputed. On the contrary: It seems that precisely the Universalisation and Globalisa- tion of Holocaust memory leads to more and more competing and oppositional memories, not to recognition of the uniqueness of the Holocaust – a crucial development that has been widely overlooked by Levy/Sznaider in their study on “Holocaust and Memory in the Global Age” due to a focus exclusively on Germany, the USA and Israel, but largely ignoring Eastern European countries.6 In most cases, the Universalisation of the Holocaust actually seemed to have aggravated the national particularities and did not – as could have been expected – result in a homogenisation of memories.7 In Hungary, for example, that situation became visible and manifest in the competing concepts of the “House of Terror” (2002) and the “Holocaust Memorial Center” (2004/06). While the “House of Ter- ror” focuses on Hungarian victimhood and downplays the Holocaust, the Holocaust Memorial directs the attention not only to the fascist Hungarian Arrow Cross Party, the German occupation and Hungarian collaboration but also to the part of the conservative-authoritarian Horthy regime – which had been positively assessed after 1989. In recent years the accession talks with the EU and EU membership had an enormous impact on Hungary’s attitude towards its past and led to at least a symbolic recognition of the Holocaust and the complicity of Hungarians in it.8 As another example, in Italy – with Mussolini’s Fascist movement being first a paradigm for Nazi Germany, later its ally, towards the end of the war changing its allegiance, Mussolini remaining a Ger- man puppet in Northern Italy – a self-perception evolved after the war that was dominated by the resistanza myth (“Italiani, brava gente”). Even though Italy introduced its own race laws in 1938 and Italian Jews fell victim to the Holocaust, the Fascist regime was seen as barely antisemitic and thus considerably different from German National Socialism, most notably when it comes to the politics of extermination. 71 Justice and Memory.indb 71 02.11.2009 13:39:03 The national holiday (April 25th) therefore commemorated the parti- san uprising in the major Northern Italian cities. In fact, a complex system of different kinds of camps existed in Italy: first controlled by the Italian Fascists, later by the German occupiers; with the Risiera di San Sabba near Trieste as the most notorious one, equipped with a crematory, partly having the function of a transitory concentra- tion camp, partly of an extermination camp employing shootings, beatings and gas vans. Also atrocities committed by Italians like the invasion in Abyssinia (1935) and the following exterminatory warfare were widely repressed and forgotten in postwar Italy. As one of the founding members of the EU, when the examination of one’s own past was not yet an issue on the European level, the country had largely failed to confront the complexity of its past. But in recent years inside Italy this self-perception has been strongly challenged by historical research. Shortly after the Stockholm conference Italy introduced a Giorno della memoria (January 27th), as a ricordo della Shoah but officially dedicated to the memory of “the extermination and persecution of the Jewish people as well as the Italian military deportees and politi- cal resistance fighters in German concentration camps”. Moreover, a competing memorial day has been installed in 2004 by the Berlusconi government, on the initiative of the “post-fascist” National Alliance party: the Giorno del Ricordo (February 10th) for the so-called Foibe massacres, remembering the revenge of Yugoslav partisans towards the Italian population in Istria and Dalmatia and the Italian expellees (esuli) from that region, therewith calling attention to Italian victim- hood and suffering – not only in contrast to Italian involvement but also to Italian resistance. Lithuania provides another example. Since the country has regained its independence in 1991, various layers of historical experience over- lap: pre-WWII Lithuania under the authoritarian Smetona regime which boosted Lithuanian nationalism; Nazi occupied Lithuania, the period which brought death to more than 90% of Lithuanian Jewry; the Soviet period 1944–1991 which brought deportation and death to many Lithuanian citizens. The definition of victims and perpetrators is a major problem in the country’s collective memory: many Nazi collaborators later became victims of the Soviet regime, together with a great number of innocent citizens. The heroes of one side were very often the perpetrators of the other. Additionally, Jews 72 Justice and Memory.indb 72 02.11.2009 13:39:03 are often collectively denounced as Communists and collaborators of the Soviet regime. Today, as a member of the EU, Lithuania has to reconsider its WWII history, especially concerning war crimes and massacres committed by Lithuanians themselves as Nazi collaborators – challenging the dominating self-perception as victims. Not least in preparation for the EU membership, an “International Commission for the Evaluation of the Crimes of the Nazi and Soviet Occupation Regimes in Lithuania” was established in 1998 under President Ad- amkus after strong debates concerning the country’s WWII and Soviet past. The task of the commission is obviously to find an integrated narrative, acceptable for all Lithuanians and foreign observers, which comes to terms with both traumatic pasts at once.9 In Austria in the 1990s, triggered by international developments, discussions on looted and confiscated property, restitution and compensation arose anew and – due to international pressure and some peculiarities of the US legal system – led to the installation of a Historians’ commission. After decades of an official self-perception as the “first victim” of Nazi Germany, amongst others instrumental in inducing an independent Austrian identity, that seemed to be the last step of officially recognizing an Austrian complicity with the Nazi mass crimes. In fact, the disputed domestic clerical fascism and the authoritarian regime of Dollfuß and Schuschnigg still impede a broad recognition of the role of Austrians in the Third Reich. Earlier than in Germany a Holocaust memorial had been realized in Vienna (2000) but it was dedicated only to the 65.000 Austrian Jews – signal- izing a specifically turned victim myth: the domestic Jewish victims are remembered but not the role of Austrians as perpetrators at home and abroad, participating in expulsion, looting and mass murder in occupied Europe. Ambivalences of Globalization The transnational processes that are, in shorthand, referred to as Globalisation, Universalisation, Europeanisation or Americanisation of the Holocaust are highly ambivalent and complex. They proceed by no means in a linear way and are not at all uniform but reflect differently in varying national settings. This reminds us of the hetero- 73 Justice and Memory.indb 73 02.11.2009 13:39:03 geneity and fragmentation of what we simply call “the Holocaust” or “Shoah” as though it had been a monolithic and elementary event. It is, of course, bound together by the antisemitic intention and the will to murder all Jews and a very compact time-frame. But it happened in different settings, with different procedures of the Germans, differ- ent reactions of the local populations, different kinds and degrees of complicity, collaboration and resistance, dealing with very different historical starting positions, different kinds of Jewish populations with different backgrounds and different degrees of assimilation and integration – and therefore different results for the postwar situation, as well as for memory and remembrance. Unfortunately, the discourses on the events of the Holocaust on the one hand, and on their aftermath and representations on the other, are increasingly drifting apart so that, especially in German-speak- ing countries, two completely separate areas of scholarship evolved, which barely communicate with each other. But the aftermath and representations cannot be reasonably examined and understood if they are disconnected from the events which they refer to – just as the politics and cultures of memory cannot be analyzed if they are separated from politics and society. Memory beyond the individual is only explainable in a specific social and political context and can only be understood and judged in relationship to the historical back- ground it refers to. In view of the current situation, the memory of the Holocaust needs less and less to be defended against denial, repression and silencing – although these dangers are surely not finally banished and should never be underestimated. Since the Holocaust became the point of reference and comparison, the benchmark for other mass crimes it gets more and more reduced to a cipher and marker for one’s own victimhood – even when it comes to German victims of bombings and expulsion at the end of WWII, focusing on individual suffering rather than the historical context. Most of all, today the memory of the Holocaust has to be defended against simplified trivialisations, abbreviated analogies and constant instrumentalisations in national and international rituals. With the omnipresence of the topic in an international framework it becomes inadequately usable and exchangeable. Routine and rituals of memory led to a leveling and normalisation that previous generations desperately tried to reach. 74 Justice and Memory.indb 74 02.11.2009 13:39:03 And, as we can see in many public-opinion polls, the omnipresence did not lead to a more detailed and differentiated knowledge – on the contrary. Meanwhile the era of the eye-witnesses of the Holocaust comes to an end – a change in our culture of memory that has been discussed at least since the 1980s. In the 2007 Yearbook of the Frankfurt Fritz Bauer Institute, the German sociologist and psychoanalyst Christian Schneider argued that their death seems not necessarily to be expected with sorrow but maybe even secretly desired – unacknowledged and unexpressed.10 The hypocritical outrage about his claim is foresee- able, of course. But he points at an important insight: the fact that the survivors as human beings that escaped from excessive violence confront us – their audience – with the monstrous destructivity of human reality and history that we ultimately still cannot face adequate- ly. After all, it is still surprising that it is possible “after Auschwitz” to live as nothing has happened and as the basic trust necessary for living in our societies has not been fundamentally challenged.11 Simplifications, rationalisations and neutralisations dominate the public discussions on the Third Reich and the Holocaust and allow for a memory that is not alienating and unsettling. Already in an earlier phase of Holocaust memory, on the occasion of the Barbie trial in France in 1987, the French philosopher Alain Finkielkraut warned against a memory that makes the past disposable to the present, that puts to sleep the conscience, toughens the audience’s ideological cer- tainties and serves as entertainment.12 In contrast: against forgetting memory can always be mobilised. His diagnosis from the late 1980s couldn’t be more timely today. Naturally there is a desire for a clear moral and pedagogy – but a simple lesson cannot be drawn from “Auschwitz”, if not a banal one that trivialises the complex events and would not have needed the mass murder to come into being. In a time of an increasing Universalisation of the Holocaust it will be important not to lapse into mere arbitrariness and constant relativisations of the events. Instrumentalisation and exploitation might be inescapable, just as a pure and authentic form of memory is unreachable. Rituals will be a necessary part of our dealing with the past, moralisation and the rhetoric of concern (Betroffenheit) unavoidable. But memory should not wear out in it. It is more and more important to focus on the concrete events of the Holocaust and to identify what is specific 75 Justice and Memory.indb 75 02.11.2009 13:39:04 about them – against all simplifications and abstractions, undermin- ing the instrumentalisations and disturbing our certainties. That is the only way to do justice to the historical events. Notes 1 Cf. JUDT 2005. For a critical evaluation of the possibilities and potentials of a European politics of memory cf. Jan-Werner MÜLLER, Europäische Erinnerung- spolitik revisited, in Transit – Europäische Revue 33/2007, pp. 166–175. 2 Cf. ZIMMERMANN 2006: pp. 202–216; KROH 2008. 3 Cf. RATHKOLB (ed.) 2002; UNFRIED 2003. 4 Cf. T. JUDT, The past is another country: myth and memory in post-war Europe, in: MÜLLER 2002: pp. 157–183. 5 Cf. GEORGI 2003. 6 Cf. LEVY, SZNAIDER, 2001. 7 For the complex interplay of the global and the local and the meaning of the national for transnational processes cf. SASSEN 2007. 8 Cf. FRITZ 2007. 9 Cf. <http://www.komisija.lt/en/>, 26.11.2008. 10 Cf. SCHNEIDER: p. 159. 11 Cf. DINER 1988: p. 8. 12 Cf. FINKIELKRAUT 1989. Bibliography J. C. ALEXANDER, On the Social Construction of Moral Universals. The “Holocaust” from War Crime to Trauma Drama, in European Journal of Social Theory 5, 2002, pp. 1, 5–85. A. ASSMANN, Der lange Schatten der Vergangenheit. Erinnerungskultur und Geschichtspolitik, München: C. H. Beck, 2006. D. DINER, Das Jahrhundert verstehen. Eine universalhistorische Deutung, München: Luchterhand, 1999. D. DINER, Der Holocaust in den politischen Kulturen Europas: Erin- nerung und Eigentum, in K. HENKE (ed.), Auschwitz. Sechs Essays zu Geschehen und Vergewärtigung (= Hannah-Arendt-Institut, Berichte und Studien 32), Dresden: HAI, 2001, pp. 65–73. D. DINER, Gegenläufige Gedächtnisse. Über Geltung und Wirkung des Hol- ocaust (= toldot 7), Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2007. 76 Justice and Memory.indb 76 02.11.2009 13:39:04 D. DINER, Vorwort des Herausgebers, in: D. Diner (ed.), Zivilisations- bruch. Denken nach Auschwitz, Frankfurt a.M.: Fischer, 1988, pp. 7–13. A. FINKIELKRAUT, Die vergebliche Erinnerung. Vom Verbrechen gegen die Menschheit, Berlin: Edition Tiamat, 1989. N. FREI (ed.), Transnationale Vergangenheitspolitik. Der Umgang mit deutschen Kriegsverbrechen in Europa nach dem Zweiten Weltkrieg (= Beiträge zur Geschichte des 20. Jahrhunderts 4), Göttingen: Wallstein, 2006. R. FRITZ, Gespaltene Erinnerung. Museale Darstellungen des Holocaust in Ungarn, in R. FRITZ, C. SACHSE, E. WOLFRUM (eds.), Na- tionen und ihre Selbstbilder. Postdiktatorische Gesellschaften in Europa (= Diktaturen und ihre Überwindung im 20. und 21. Jahrhundert 1), Göttingen: Wallstein, 2007, pp. 129–149. V. B. GEORGI, Entliehene Erinnerung. Geschichtsbilder junger Migranten in Deutschland, Hamburg: Hamburger Ed., 2003. C. GERBEL, M. LECHNER, D. C. G. LORENZ, O. MARCHART, V. ÖHNER, I. STEINER, A. STRUTZ, H. UHL (eds.), Transforma- tionen gesellschaftlicher Erinnerung. Studien zur „Gedächtnisgeschichte“ der Zweiten Republik (= kultur.wissenschaften 9), Wien: Turia + Kant, 2005. M. JEISMANN, Auf Wiedersehen Gestern. Die deutsche Vergangenheit und die Politik von morgen, Stuttgart–München: DVA, 2001. T. JUDT, Postwar. A History of Europe Since 1945, New York: Penguin Press, 2005. V. KNIGGE, N. FREI (eds.), Verbrechen erinnern. Die Auseinandersetzung mit Holocaust und Völkermord, München: C. H. Beck, 2002. H. KÖNIG, Politik und Gedächtnis, Weilerswist: Velbrück, 2008. R. N. LEBOW, W. KANSTEINER, C. FOGU (ed.), The Politics of Memory in Postwar Europe, Durham–London: Duke University Press, 2006. J. KROH, Transnationale Erinnerung. Der Holocaust im Fokus ges- chichtspolitischer Initiativen, Frankfurt a.M.–New York: Campus, 2008. D. LEVY, N. SZNAIDER, Erinnerung im globalen Zeitalter: Der Holo- caust, Frankfurt a. M.: Suhrkamp, 2001. M. MAZOWER, Dark Continent. Europe’s Twentieth Century, London: Penguin, 1998. 77 Justice and Memory.indb 77 02.11.2009 13:39:04 J. MÜLLER (ed.), Memory and Power in Post-War Europe. Studies in the Presence of the Past, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002. O. RATHKOLB (ed.), Revisiting the National Socialist Legacy. Coming to Terms with Forced Labor, Expropriation, Compensation, and Resti- tution (= Bruno Kreisky International Studies 3), Innsbruck–Wien– München–Bozen: Studien, 2002. J. K. ROTH, Holocaust Politics, London–Leiden: Westminster John Knox Press, 2001. S. SASSEN, A Sociology of Globalization, London: Norton, 2007. C. SCHNEIDER, Trauma und Zeugenschaft. Probleme des erinnernden Umgangs mit Gewaltgeschichte, in M. ELM, G. KÖßLER (eds.), Zeu- genschaft des Holocaust. Zwischen Trauma, Tradierung und Ermittlung (Jahrbuch 2007 des Fritz Bauer-Instituts), Frankfurt a.M.–New York: Campus, 2007, pp. 157–175. R. STEININGER, Der Umgang mit dem Holocaust. Europa – USA – Israel, Wien–Köln–Weimar: Böhlau, 1994. H. UHL (ed.), Zivilisationsbruch und Gedächtniskultur. Das 20. Jahr- hundert in der Erinnerung des beginnenden 21. Jahrhunderts, Inns- bruck–Wien–München–Bozen: Studien, 2003. B. UNFRIED, Restitution und Entschädigung von entzogenem Vermögen im internationalen Vergleich. Entschädigungsdebatte als Problem der Geschichtswissenschaft, in Zeitgeschichte 30, 2003, pp. 5, 243–267. M. ZIMMERMANN, Die transnationale Holocaust-Erinnerung, in G. BUDDE, S. CONRAD, O. JANZ (eds.), Transnationale Geschichte. Themen, Tendenzen und Theorien, Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ru- precht, 2006. 78 Justice and Memory.indb 78 02.11.2009 13:39:04 Historical Scholarship, Politics of the Public Past and (Semi-) Private Memory Mitchell G. Ash Once upon a time, there was a TV detective series called “Miami Vice”. When Don Johnson, the lead actor in that show, got ready to finish off one of the evil-doers, he often said first, “You’re history”. With that two-word line Johnson – actually his writers – gave us a clear and concise representation of an understanding of history that is widely shared, and not only in the United States. Of course I am referring to an imagining of “history” as the dead past, something like a mix- ture of an enormous cemetery with a basement storage room or an attic filled with junk people haven’t gotten around to throwing away. This imagining is the basis for many readers’ intuitive, or shall we say rather unconsidered, expectation that works of history, especially biographies, are supposed to be magical acts of reanimation that can somehow “make the past come alive.” Put more psychologically, we confront here a wish to negate his- tory and replace it with a permanent present. This wish is hardly confined to American popular culture; it corresponds to modernity’s (and NOT only post-modernism’s!) need for ever new beginnings, to “make it new.” The optimal fulfilment of that wish would be to look away from, ignore or in the end actively push aside the past, especially those aspects of the past that seem difficult to integrate into positive identity constructions. In German this is called einen Schlußstrich zie- hen, “drawing a line through” the past. Seen in this light, censorship, including self-censorship, need not only be a denial or erasure of “history” dictated by governments, but becomes an integral part of its (re-) construction in a particular, politically or emotionally acceptable form. Such reconstructions, along with the corresponding acts of (self-) censorship are undertaken not only by governments, but by ordinary consumers of mass media products – and their commercial purveyors – as well. Of course, there is a fundamental difference between gov- 79 Justice and Memory.indb 79 02.11.2009 13:39:04 ernment censorship, which involves implicit or direct coercion, and the implicit or at times quite explicit collaboration at work between mass media purveyors and their consumers. And yet, although the selection of preferred stories about the past in the commercial realm is carried out first by producers, directors and marketing experts, and subsequently by audiences, while government censorship is enacted by rather different people, the resulting historical narratives – along with the forgettings that inevitably result when historical stories are recounted only in specified, conventional ways – are in certain respects surprisingly comparable with one another. The opposite of the eternal “now” is the idea that history never dies, but lives in all of us continuously, influencing everything we do despite our determined efforts to pretend otherwise. This claim is not only advanced by historians, but it seems, shall we say, rather less popular in the public sphere. Here the dynamics of scientific and scholarly competition, which rewards innovation and thus seems to demand permanent revision of accepted consensus positions, appear to correspond perfectly with the well-known prominence of claims to novelty and exclusivity that are driving forces in the media world. In the media world, as in politics, it often seems less important to place past events and actions in context in order to come to an un- derstanding of how and why they occurred as they did, than to select and “package” historical “material” or, in current internet-speak, “content” – documents, images and other representations that appear to be relevant for political and cultural debates in the present. In such products and the debates that accompany them, “history” always appears in the singular. The rhetorical claim is that “history” – or what passes for history - shows, teaches or tells us something clearly and unambiguously. But the tales about and other, concrete representations of this supposedly unitary object called “history” exhibit such obvious plurality that some, in harmony with formerly fashionable post-modernist ways of speaking, are tempted to claim that there is no such thing as “history” in the singular – that it is more correct to speak instead of “histories” in the plural, constructed ac- cording to the interests, viewpoints and (supposed) experiences of the tellers (groups) in question. Of course, the scholarly field of his- tory itself exhibits a seemingly never-ending plurality of narratives and interpretations, despite historians’ sincerely advanced claims to 80 Justice and Memory.indb 80 02.11.2009 13:39:04 objectivity. I hope that I need not dwell for long on the dangers of drawing hasty, relativistic conclusions from this fact. The persistence of conflict and debate about interpretations of history need not imply that there are multiple “truths” about such events as the Shoah, or that all interpretations are morally equivalent. Three distinct, yet intertwined discursive fields The title of my remarks is intended as a rudimentary basis for our discussion of these multiple narrative (re-)constructions – and forget- tings – of the past. As a first step, I would like to propose a three-fold distinction between historical scholarship, politics of the public past – by which I mean the political culture of historical representations in the public sphere – and (semi-)private memory. Admittedly, the second and third items in this triad sound a bit awkward in English. This is less true in German; in that language the terms are, Geschichtswissen- schaft, Geschichtskultur or Vergangenheitspolitik, and tradierte Erinnerung. Maybe there is a point to be made here about the way the German language makes it possible to bring objects into existence that did not exist before. Be that as it may, all three fields of discourse, and the silences they include or imply, are of course in continuous interaction with one another, but each discursive field is a complex entity in its own right. Thus, it seems appropriate to discuss the organisation and dynamics, the discursive structures, or “rules of the game” in each area, and then to consider their potential and actual interactions more specifically. In the process, I hope to challenge, or at least express scepticism about certain widely held assumptions. Too often it is simply assumed without further reflection, for example, that historians’ research results and new interpretations are, or ought to be, accepted more or less automatically as official representations in the public sphere. Maybe only historians assume this, but their surprise is real enough when their authority in matters historical is not accepted without a struggle, or is even openly rejected. An example familiar to me from personal experience occurred in 1995. In that year, an exhibition, conceived mainly by historians, to be held at the National Air and Space Museum in Washington, D.C., to commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of the dropping of 81 Justice and Memory.indb 81 02.11.2009 13:39:05 the first atomic bombs over Hiroshima and Nagasaki was vehemently rejected by the Air Force Association and its political allies because it challenged the often and long-recounted, conventionally accepted American narrative of that event and attempted to present a more complex, differentiated story. Many features of the exhibition were challenged, such as the effort by the exhibition’s creators to include accounts and interpretations from Japanese and not only Americans involved. But the central point of contention was the suggestion that the decision to drop the atomic bomb was not motivated solely by the humane desire of America’s political leaders to save American soldiers’ lives. That has been the central element in the American master narrative of this event since 1945, and remains so to this day. Other interpretations, no matter how well-grounded they may be in careful historical research, were in 1995 and continue still to be denounced as “revisionist” history. The use of that term was and is still intended to produce deeply disturbing associations with pseudo- historical revisionism based on the denial of the Shoah.1 The idea that historical scholarship per se involves challenging, rather than uncritically propagating accepted interpretations of the past had precious little place in this discussion. Equally often there is talk in both the public sphere and in the scholarly realm about historical controversies as “struggles over memory,” as though the results of such controversies – assuming they lead to consensus – automatically find their way into the brains of all concerned, as though there were no potential or very real conflict here with other, potentially conflicting accounts of the past passed along in the (semi-)private sphere. Most of us already know that such assumptions are questionable; what we need to discuss is how these discursive fields interact with, influence – or fail to influence – one another. Specifically, we also need to discuss how silences and censor- ship (or self-censorship) can play a role in each field. Historical Scholarship Surely there will be no difficulty with the claim that this particular discursive field is largely self-contained. That scholars write mainly for their colleagues is a common complaint in the public sphere, and 82 Justice and Memory.indb 82 02.11.2009 13:39:05 the irritation is mutual. In one respect, such complaints are simply beside the point. Of course historians write mainly for one another, because their aim is to convince their colleagues that a particular interpretation of the sources is correct. Nonetheless, as historians well know and never tire of complaining about, the results of their work rarely reach a wider public. In order for this to happen, acts of translation, even transformation must take place. Research results and their interpretations must be expressed in understandable lan- guage that may not always sound scholarly, the works involved must be marketed more aggressively than is common among academic publishers, and some public interest in the topic needs to exist in the first place. Only then can works of historical scholarship seriously claim to participate actively in the political culture of the past. For example: the immensely detailed tomes of scholars like Ingo Haar and others are valuable contributions to our knowledge of the Nazi occupation policy in Eastern Europe and the roles of historians in supporting it, but such texts are heavy going even for scholars.2 In stark contrast to the magisterial work of Saul Friedlander on Nazi Germany and the Jews3, they are known to a wider public, if at all, only through extended reviews in serious newspapers. Of course this segmentation of discursive spheres was not always so complete as it appears to be today. The works of Jules Michelet, Leopold von Ranke, Heinrich Treitschke and others were read by colleagues and the educated public with attention and enjoyment in the nineteenth century.4 Perhaps figures like Fritz Stern and Saul Friedlander can claim to be successors to this tradition today.5 More interesting for this discussion are writers like Götz Aly, who work in both fields at once, write like journalists and often seek deliberately to provoke controversy, but argue like historians and base their work on extensive archival research.6 The special case of Daniel Goldhagen will be discussed at greater length below. However, once we realise that such works by historians, or writers identified as such, rarely if ever achieve the truly massive public reception accorded to iconic, privileged “places of memory” such as The Diary of Anne Frank or Schindler’s List, we can turn with greater interest to the second dis- cursive field. 83 Justice and Memory.indb 83 02.11.2009 13:39:05 Political Cultures of the Past This vast realm includes at least four subfields, each of which is in constant interaction with the others: (1) history as represented in the media, for example in television documentaries and of course also in film; (2) the treatment of past events in (often very public) legal settings such as trials, legislative hearings and the like; (3) political commemoration rituals and monuments of various kinds; and (4) pedagogical (re-) presentations of history in the schools. As I have already suggested, professional historians – much to their chagrin – are a decided minority of the participants in this field. They may be used as consultants for television or film documentaries, or as expert witnesses in court proceedings, but they do not have, and I suspect they never will have a secure monopoly of expertise in this discursive field; indeed, their authority is continuously challenged even on the ground where one would think it was most secure. Their range of methodologies, extending from systematic oral history to the critical assessment of written sources (called Quellenkritik in German), while undoubtedly impressive, can hardly be considered binding for all players – the more visible the scholarly apparatus, the less interesting the book in the eyes of publishers and many readers as well. In any case, there are not now and never will be property rights to the professional title of historian, nor will academically trained historians ever be able to claim exclusive domain over historical writing. The key players in each social subsystem decide according to their own criteria how to assemble, present and market the re- spective “products.” Courts decide guilt or innocence according to their own very specific rules; in film and television documentaries, as reviewers never tire of (re-)stating, aesthetic concerns or the need to achieve sensational impact often trump scholarly criteria. Thus, it is only natural that the political culture of the past is constituted by a veritable cacophony of voices and a multitude of representational objects presented in all available media. In Germany, the long-run- ning debate on the Holocaust memorial in Berlin is an example of the mine fields that such discussions can become. Commemorations and other events within the space of political culture and the school- books or other instructional materials in which particular accounts of the past are laid down are only two aspects of 84 Justice and Memory.indb 84 02.11.2009 13:39:05 this many-layered complex. Professional historians participate in the creation of such materials, of course, but their role is seldom decisive. I have already mentioned the prominent roles of media objects such as the diary of Anne Frank and Schindler’s List as privileged “places of memory”; such objects appear to be more familiar, and their les- sons better remembered, by young people than works of history or by historians in the narrower sense. This brings me to the other two subfields – the courts and the schools. The legal arena is a major setting for public debate on recent history, but the pedagogical effectiveness of judicial proceedings as teachers about the past is more often asserted than actually established. Equally often the results are frustrating. Former East German activist Bärbel Boley’s widely cited comment on trials of the East German political leadership and secret police functionaries is apposite: “We got law, but not justice”.7 Similar frustration also resulted from many trials related to the crimes of the Shoah, for example the famous trials of Auschwitz perpetrators in Frankfurt in the 1960s – trials which, by the way, were far more numerous and began far earlier than is often realised, but have never truly satisfied demands to “work through the past” or bring all perpetrators to justice.8 The sort of public political education that may have been intended and the messages actually received need to be distinguished carefully from one another. Of course the same is also true for school instruction. As anyone who has been disappointed by the results on examination papers can attest, merely sending a message is no guarantee that it will be received! Recently, it has become ever clearer that even the best- intended pedagogical efforts to overcome the alleged “repression” of the Nazi past in school instruction have not been as effective in Germany as might have been desired. This is due in part at least to collision between messages being sent in the schools with messages transported in the third discursive field of (semi-)private memory, to which I will turn in a moment. I want to suggest here, however, that such collisions were inevitable from the very beginning. The well-meaning efforts of the “68ers” to expose schoolchildren to their view of the Nazi past, and even to require them to accept it, may have been poorly grounded pedagogi- cally. It is, after all, a standard principle of good teaching to try and reach the pupils where they are cognitively, emotionally and morally, 85 Justice and Memory.indb 85 02.11.2009 13:39:05 rather than to be satisfied with prescribing to them a history that they ought to accept for normative moral reasons, but which may have little to do with actual experiences they learn about elsewhere from people closer to them than their teachers. Holocaust pedagogy appears to have been a classical example of such a disconnect: What “really happened” – more accurately, what conventional, politically accepted discourse deems most important about the past – may not link up very well with what students have heard about the experiences of their parents’ or grandparents’ generations. This issue becomes still more complicated if these students are located in the former East Germany, and may therefore be asked to confront both Nazi and Communist pasts both at school and elsewhere.9 (Semi-)private memory In opposition to historical scholarship and the political cultures of the past, the preferred media of (semi-)private memory tend to be oral. Although documents such as photos, unpublished autobiographies, diaries and the like make their appearance as well, conversations (and silences!) in family settings small and larger, but also among friends and acquaintances in semi-public places like bars, pubs, and restaurants, are the predominant vehicles of discourse in this field. It therefore seems to me inappropriate to describe memory in this sphere as strictly private. In any case, as cognitive science research suggests, even individuals’ memories appear to be retained more effectively when they are embedded in stories, which are of course forms of social communication.10 Seen in this context, semi-private memory, including silences and forgetting characteristic of such settings, becomes a multi-layered social construction, influenced by expressed memories (or silences) of family, friends and comrades, school teachers, but also – and perhaps more strongly than is often realised – by public political, especially media discourse. This field has been extensively researched and analysed in recent years, most prominently by social psychologists such as Harald Welzer and his colleagues.11 As their work shows, and as thoughtful informed people have long suspected, this discursive field cannot be serapated from the political cultures of the past. The influence of information 86 Justice and Memory.indb 86 02.11.2009 13:39:05 and images from the media on the memories of witnesses – includ- ing survivors of the Shoah – is well-known. More interesting for this discussion may be the finding nicely expressed in the title of one of Welzer’s books: “Opa war kein Nazi” – “Grandpa was not a Nazi.” Politically engaged people – including advocates of the normative pedagogy mentioned above – have remarked with some cynicism for decades that every German family seems to have had at least one resistance fighter in its heritage.12 Welzer sees such stories not as evi- dence of shocking pedagogical failure, or of the disconnect between well-meaning pedagogy and living memory as suggested above, but rather as a positive sign of the impact of official, politically correct (West) German pedagogy. He portrays the third generation of German youth as clever if unconscious tricksters, combining official discourse with a representation of family members as “good” Germans and thus creating an integrated whole, which has the additional benefit of supporting individuals’ positive identity constructions.13 Comparisons with patterns in other European countries have led to some interesting modifications of this result, with important implications for the idea (or illusion) of establishing a common European historical identity. What individuals make of all these resources, and how widely that can vary even within families, is another matter entirely. A case in point is the interesting television film “A Few Things I Know about My Father”, which received the Peace Prize at the Berlin Film Festival in 2006. The film’s author is the younger son of a former high Nazi official in Slovakia – the father was executed as a war criminal shortly after the end of the war. The film is presented as a documentary about the discovery of materials about the father, and the son’s own dogged efforts – far too persistent for some of his siblings – to learn more about what these documents mean by connecting them with materials in archives as well as the memories of former neighbours and, of course, his own relatives. The filmmaker thus produces a rich narrative of rediscovery and interlards this with a family drama that, in one scene, peaks in a confrontation between the author and his politically more conservative sister in her pottery studio that nearly erupts in violence. Despite the film’s evident weaknesses as a documentary and the filmmaker’s rather too evident sense of moral superiority, even this work reveals the obvious advantages that non- scholarly media enjoy in the public culture of history and memory. 87 Justice and Memory.indb 87 02.11.2009 13:39:06 By using images and tone as well as text, such works can achieve a quality of personal drama and immediacy only rarely reached in novels and still more rarely approached in works of scholarship. Problematic Interactions The previous paragraph presented an example of both the interac- tions and the tensions and even conflicts among all three of these discursive fields or spaces; other examples will have occurred to many readers from their own experiences. As I have already suggested, a significant gap has opened between historical scholarship and political culture of the past, and also between these two discursive realms and (semi-)private memory transmissions. Such gaps may be less a matter of content than of form. As early as 1965 Roland Barthes wrote in his collection of excerpts from the work of Michelet that, “We no longer recount history today as a story.”14 At the time, Barthes may have been referring to the work of the Annales school which emphasised long- term changes in demography, climate and economic structures over detailed accounts of single events or individuals. Later, he could also have cited the social and economic history coming from the Bielefeld school. Scholars using both approaches consciously placed themselves in opposition to history as narrative and appeared to some readers to negate, or at least limit, the role of individual historical actors and their decisions by making them appear to be objects of larger historical forces. Of course I do not intend to rail against specialised historical scholarship or to create some sort of artificial opposition of analytical versus story telling modes of scholarly presentation.15 But the implications of this stylistic gap for the language of historians as well as the relation of their discipline to the other two fields of discourse seem clear, and troubling. Some of these troubling implications became clear during the intense debate over Daniel Jonah Goldhagen’s book Hitler’s Willing Executioners more than ten years ago.16 I do not wish to go into those debates again here, but it is worth remembering that the book itself soon became a location for collisions among all three of the discur- sive spheres I have tried to define. In a situation in which so many stories, remembrances and interpretations focus on a single event, 88 Justice and Memory.indb 88 02.11.2009 13:39:06 Goldhagen forcibly pulled the telling of the Shoah from the symbolic back to the immediate. His at times disturbingly concrete descrip- tions of killing,17 his emphasis on the individual responsibility of the killers and his insistent questioning of the motives behind their actions were among the more attractive aspects of the book for many readers. Goldhagen himself wrote that the argument of his book was rooted in (semi-)private memory, specifically in conversations with his father, an émigré from Nazism.18 He thus presented the book as an attempt to heighten the authenticity of a discourse based in part on semi-private memory, which had already acquired nearly iconic status in the realm of public political culture of the past, with the help of historical and social scientific argumentation. The book – rumoured to have been rejected by Harvard University Press, then published by trade presses in the United States and Germany and aggressively marketed not least by its author – became for a time a privileged site for controversial debates within and enactments of the political culture of the past (Geschichtskultur). I have suggested elsewhere that the book was so widely received and discussed because it supported already established, identity creating narratives on both sides of the Atlantic, albeit in different ways. In the US, it supported a long held and rarely questioned narrative of German evil; in Germany, its purchase was a symbolic act in support of the normatively “correct” memory that had finally come to be accepted, at least by the majority of the first postwar generation.19 The problem for scholars lay in Goldhagen’s attempt to embed his positive contributions within a narrative (re-)presentation of the Shoah as a “German project,” thus subsuming his concrete descrip- tions and analyses of the killers as individuals within a long known and widely challenged master narrative of the history of German Anti- Semitism. A gap soon yawned between the widespread, often posi- tive public reception of Goldhagen’s book and its almost universally critical reception among historians. Ruth Bettina Birn, a Canadian historian, carefully demonstrated multiple instances of selective and at times even wilfully tendentious use of sources by Goldhagen and was threatened with a lawsuit in return. She concluded that in this case the media alone decided what was to “count” as history, either without listening to or while deliberately overhearing the objections of experts.20 Equally plausible is another interpretation: neither detailed 89 Justice and Memory.indb 89 02.11.2009 13:39:06 scholarly critiques nor differentiated analytical perspectives have any chance in the public sphere against established consensus narratives. But we may well ask whether it is a good idea to use poorly argued scholarship in support of positive political aims, such as spreading knowledge of the Shoah. The image of modernity as a cultural complex based on perma- nent self-creation and thus in constant danger of forgetting itself represents only one side of the coin. The need to construct mean- ingful identities at least in part through historical storytelling seems to be very much alive. The open question – one with many answers – remains, however, which tales from which privileged people and sources acquire iconic status as “places of memory” in a given politi- cal culture. History affects us all – whether this occurs by means of identity myths or the endless discussion of possibly uncomfortable scholarly arguments based on logic and evidence, is another matter. This brings me to my final question: Are we dealing here with an interaction among participants whose authority and weight are in principle equal? Are politicians merely receptacles and magnifiers of public sentiment; are school teachers merely willing recipients of historians’ knowledge? Or is not the situation better described as a continuous struggle for attention, recognition and authority, with no end in sight? My answer is clear from what I have said thus far: Given the fact that all three of the discursive fields I have described are riven with con- flict, it should not surprise us to discover that the interactions among the spheres are also conflicted. The persuasive force of enlighten- ment alone has its limitations; neither the truth of particular claims about the past, defined as consensus among informed experts, nor the moral force of ideas is a guarantor of their acceptance. Serious work, in some cases media work and in other cases more straight- forwardly political work, is required to assure success. And, as the German proverb goes, the devil never sleeps. Notes 1 For extensive accounts and documentation of this controversy see HOGAN 1996; BIRD and LIFSCHULTZ 1998. 2 HAAR 2000; FAHLBUSCH and HAAR (eds.) 2006. 90 Justice and Memory.indb 90 02.11.2009 13:39:06 3 FRIEDLANDER 1997, 2006. 4 For example: VON RANKE 1905; VON RANKE 1913; VON TREITSCHKE 1879–1894; MICHELET 1972 and 1973; BARTHES 1980. 5 STERN 1977; STERN 1987; STERN 1999. 6 ALY 1999; ALY 2007. 7 The original German is: “Wir wollten Gerechtigkeit, und bekamen den Rech- tsstaat”. The citation has become so common that no one feels the need to cite an original source for it. 8 On the roles of historians as consultants and researchers in the Auschwitz trials of the 1960s, see Norbert FREI (ed.) 2000. 9 This issue becomes still more complicated if we differentiate between West and East German pedagogical settings. See, for example, ECKERT, VON PLATO and SCHÜTTRUMPF (eds.) 1991. 10 For recent discussions of this subject, see WELZER (ed.) 2001; WELZER 2005. 11 WELZER, MOLLER, and TSCHUGGNALL (eds.) 2002. 12 Whether or not this is true of Austrians would be an interesting research topic. For first steps in this direction, see BOTZ (ed.) 2007. 13 WELZER (ed.) 2007. 14 BARTHES 1980, p. 14. 15 For such a dichotomy, drawn far too sharply in this case, see WEHLER 2007. 16 See, among many others, HEIL (ed.) 1998. 17 Goldhagen often created such impressions of concreteness by describing actual killings as though he himself had seen them. For an insightful analysis of Gold- hagen’s writing, see LA CAPRA 2001, chap. 4. 18 GOLDHAGEN 1996. Afterward to the Vintage paperback edition 1997, p. 616. 19 ASH 1997. 20 BIRN and RIESS 1997. The subsequent, acrimonious debate between Goldhagen and Birn need not detain us further here. Bibliography G. ALY, “Final solution”. Nazi population policy, and the murder of the European Jews, trans. B. COOPER and A. BROWN. New York: Oxford University Press, 1999. G. ALY, Hitler’s beneficiaries. Plunder, race war and the Nazi welfare state, trans. J. CHASE. New York: Metropolitan, 2007. M. G. ASH, American and German Perspectives on the Goldhagen Debate: History, Identity and the Media, in Holocaust and Genocide Studies 11, 1997, pp. 396-412. R. BARTHES, Michelet, trans. P. GEBLE. Hamburg: Europäische Verlagsanstalt, 1980. 91 Justice and Memory.indb 91 02.11.2009 13:39:06 K. BIRD and L. LIFSCHULTZ (eds.), Hiroshima’s Shadow. Stony Creek, CT: Pamphleteer’s Press, 1998. R. B. BIRN and V. RIESS, Revising the Holocaust (review of Daniel Jonah Goldhagen, Hitler’s Willing Executioners), in The Historical Journal 40, 1997, pp. 193–215. G. BOTZ (ed.), Schweigen und Reden einer Generation. Erinnerungsge- spräche mit Opfern, Tätern und Mitläufern des Nationalsozialismus. Vienna: Mandelbaum, 2007. R. ECKERT, A. VON PLATO and J. SCHÜTTRUMPF (eds.), Wen- dezeiten, Zeitenwende. Zur “Entnazifizierung” und “Entstalinisierung”. Hamburg: Ergebnisse, 1991. M. FAHLBUSCH and I. HAAR (eds.), German Scholars and Ethnic Cleansing 1919–1945. New York: Berghahn, 2005. N. FREI (ed.), Geschichte vor Gericht. Historiker, Richter und die Suche nach Gerechtigkeit. Munich: Beck, 2000. S. FRIEDLANDER, Nazi Germany and the Jews, 2 vols. New York: Harper Collins, 1997, 2006. D. J. GOLDHAGEN, Hitler’s Willing Executioners. Ordinary Germans and the Holocaust. New York: Knopf, 1996. I. HAAR, Historiker im Nationalsozialismus. Deutsche Geschichtswissen- schaft und der „Volkstumskampf“ im Osten. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2000. J. HEIL (ed.), Geschichtswissenschaft und Öffentlichkeit. Der Streit um Daniel Jonah Goldhagen. Frankfurt am Main: Fischer Taschenbuch Verlag, 1998. M. J. HOGAN (ed.), Hiroshima: History and Memory. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996. D. LA CAPRA, Writing Trauma. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2001. J. MICHELET, History of the French Revolution, trans. K. BOTSFORD. Wynnewood, PA: Livingston Publishing Co., 1972. J. MICHELET, The People, trans. J. P. McKAY. Urbana IL: University of Illinois Press, 1973. F. STERN, Gold and Iron: Bismarck, Bleichröder and the Making of the German Empire. New York: Randm House, 1977. F. STERN, Dreams and Delusions. The Drama of German History. New York: Random House, 1987. 92 Justice and Memory.indb 92 02.11.2009 13:39:07 F. STERN, Einstein’s German World. Princeton, NJ: Princeton Uni- versity Press, 1999. L. VON RANKE, History of the Popes during the last four centuries, 3 vols. London: G. Bell and sons, 1913. L. VON RANKE, History of the Reformation in Germany, trans. Sarah AUSTIN. New York: E. P. Dutton, 1905. H. VON TREITSCHKE, Deutsche Geschichte im 19. Jahrhundert, 5 vols. Leipzig: Hirzel, 1879-1894. H.-U. WEHLER, Literarische Erzählung oder kritische Analyse? Ein Duell in der gegenwärtigen Geschichtswissenschaft. Vienna: Picus Verlag, 2007. H. WELZER, Das kommunikative Gedächtnis. Eine Theorie der Erin- nerung. Munich: Beck, 2005. H. WELZER (ed.), Das soziale Gedächtnis. Geschichte, Erinnerung, Tradierung. Hamburg: Hamburg Edition, 2001. H. WELZER (ed.), Der Krieg der Erinnerung. Holocaust, Kollaboration, und Widerstand im europäischen Gedächtnis. Frankfurt am Main: Fischer Taschenbuch Verlag, 2007. H. WELZER, S. MOLLER, and K. TSCHUGGNALL (eds.), “Opa war kein Nazi.” Nationalsozialismus und Holocaust im Familiengedächtnis. Frankfurt am Main: Fischer Taschenbuch Verlag, 2002. 93 Justice and Memory.indb 93 02.11.2009 13:39:07 Justice and Memory.indb 94 02.11.2009 13:39:07 Coping with Traumatic Past(s): Case Studies Justice and Memory.indb 95 02.11.2009 13:39:07 Justice and Memory.indb 96 02.11.2009 13:39:07 Considering the Violence of Voicelessness: Censorship and Self-censorship Related to the South African TRC Process Christine Anthonissen The South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) was established after an intense public debate on how the State should respond to knowledge of and persisting references to extensive hu- man rights violations perpetrated on the one hand by the National Party government that had ruled from 1948 to 1994, and on the other hand by some sections of the liberation movements during the latter years of resistance. Many advocated a policy that would let bygones be bygones. The motivation underlying such a position was one that recognised there had been a recent history of violence in which there had been atrocities on both sides. Then, the argument went, there were victims and perpetrators on either side and in equal measure.1 The best way forward would be to “forgive and forget”, to no longer speak about what had happened, to draw a veil of silence, to draw a closing line (a Schlußstrich) that would signal the end of the bad chap- ter. With a view to unification, in commitment to a newly established ideal of nation building, we would turn to the future and commit the past to silence. In so doing, a supposedly wholesome national amnesia would be encouraged. The advocacy for such a position is now history – it did not succeed. The position that won out was one that held there could be no peace, no unity, no reconciliation without the truth, painful as it may be to victim or perpetrator. The decision to establish the TRC entailed a pledge of extensive state support for a process of investigation and public disclosure of specific kinds of politically motivated injustices.2 The process was intended to achieve a number of things, including (i) that it would allow proper audience to those who had suffered, (ii) it would oblige those who had perpetrated atrocities to come forward and make full disclosures, and (iii) it would undeniably inform those who had turned a blind eye and a deaf ear, who somehow were able to believe 97 Justice and Memory.indb 97 02.11.2009 13:39:07 or pretend that barring a few unfortunate indiscretions by isolated outsiders, everything had always been more or less fine.3 The TRC process was conceived as a grand initiative that would lay the foun- dations for coming to terms with traumas and atrocities of the past in such a way that moving forward to national unity would finally be possible. We are now ten years beyond the final hearings of the TRC. Although much that was started with the institution of the TRC is ongoing, and the work from no perspective can be considered to have ended, some of the early momentum has diminished and much remains unresolved. Thus it is good at this stage to take stock of what was anticipated, what was achieved, and what remains as challenges on an individual as well as a collective level.4 Much recent research has commented on the languages that were used and the kinds of discourses that were constructed during the recorded TRC hearings.5 This paper will consider the largely trans- parent component of discourse, namely the part where language ceases, where accidentally or calculatedly, there are no words and thus often also no recorded contributions to collective memory. In reflecting specifically on silence and censorship, this paper will introduce and elaborate the concept of “voicelessness” and then also the notion “violence of voicelessness”, which I suggest is a productive concept for understanding what obliges and maintains silence in relation to the kinds of human rights violations that the TRC set out to investigate. The paper will give a brief outline of the context in which TRC hear- ings of 1996 to1998 developed as a national, governmentally instituted initiative aimed at breaking the silence, at overcoming voicelessness.6 The TRC encouraged and facilitated voluntary recollection of suffer- ing and of gross human rights violations for which some perpetrators were directly responsible, while others were indirectly responsible by, for example, giving orders, providing support or simply looking in the other direction. Such prompted recall and relating of traumatic experience, as opposed to spontaneous or involuntary recollection, has recognised difficulties that need to be considered when the silences in communication of violence are topicalised. This paper considers censorship as a form of silencing. It will refer to silencing discourses that were endemic in the media of the late 1980s in South Africa when stringent censorship attached to the State of Emergency was operative. It will also refer to the silences that are perpetuated even 98 Justice and Memory.indb 98 02.11.2009 13:39:07 after the TRC, if not through overt censorship, then more covertly through the invisibility of “stories” of inflicted trauma. The discourses to be considered here are of a kind that have been critically analysed from a number of different theoretical and meth- odological perspectives. The TRC testimonies as well as media reports on the violating events themselves and on their coverage at TRC hearings have been linguistically and discursively analysed drawing on perspectives developed in Discourse Analysis7, Critical Discourse Analysis8, Systemic Functional Linguistics9 and Narrative Theory10 – or in some cases also a combination of various of these theoretical approaches11. Such analyses have served to disclose some of the ways in which people articulate and come to terms with their experiences of state repression, of officially sanctioned violence, of trauma at the hands of powerful institutions; they have also served to illustrate how institutional violence can be mystified by the control of what may be published, by the terms in which atrocities are referred to, by the minimising of perverse actions of their own and amplifying of the impropriety of the other; and they have served to underscore certain features of, for example, justificatory discourses that repeatedly occur in contexts as far apart as Argentina, South Africa or Austria. This paper will attend to the silences that become particularly noticeable through the ways in which public communication in the media silences minor details, alternative versions of an event, and even complete stories. In doing so it relates to various theoretical instruments intro- duced in Critical Discourse Analysis, that acknowledge the impact of unequal power relations, and the manipulative actions of those who are in charge of powerful institutions such as the security services in a totalitarian state, the information services of a government suspected of doing “dirty tricks” or the news media serving an ideology that will keep people who are careless of basic human rights in power. The violence of voicelessness Besides considering censorship as a form of silencing, I shall also introduce the concept “voicelessness” to refer to the inability of trau- matised people to contribute to a discourse in which they should be central participants. The definition of “voicelessness” used here is one 99 Justice and Memory.indb 99 02.11.2009 13:39:08 developed in the field of psychology, where patients have been found to respond to trauma, abuse and oppression with an overwhelming sense of powerlessness. The feeling of utter incapacity gives rise to an inability to articulate the trauma that a person has lived through, thus to what Hardy12 refers to as the victim’s “learned voicelessness”. Following an experience of severe trauma a victim becomes mute, often involuntarily, but at times also deliberately. This particular concept of “voicelessness” as it is embodied in re- sponses to suffering resulting from violent excesses that were recalled in the course of TRC hearings is useful in understanding: (i) the effect of silencing discourses through censorship in the latter part of 20th century South Africa, (ii) some of the aims of the TRC as an initiative aimed at breaking the silence, and (iii) the silences that are perpetuated, even after the TRC. Related to voicelessness are feelings of rage, pain and sorrow that are often suppressed. The learned inability to articulate menacing experiences such as victimisation, harassment, abduction, or torture can even underpin the development of pathology.13 In the course of overcoming disabling voicelessness, for example in attempting to regain one’s voice in therapy, victims are often reported to express deep feelings of anger and sadness. There are a number of ways in which victims of human rights abuses have been assisted, such as in therapy or in joining support groups in their communities. The TRC intended through public testimony in a controlled and relatively safe space to assist in overcoming such forms of voicelessness.14 By recognising the validity and authenticity of recalled experiences, the TRC did in some instances fulfill such a facilitating function. Cuéllar15, in discussing the resistance of former victims to being interviewed, introduces the term “violence of voicelessness” to refer to the experience of many victims who at some stage interacted with “trauma experts”. Many had found the recounting of their trauma a harrowing experience. Afterwards they felt their experience had become a commodity for intellectual elites. Many who had testified and had been interviewed by therapists and social scientists interested in the ability of people to come to terms with violent events, eventu- 100 Justice and Memory.indb 100 02.11.2009 13:39:08 ally were left with the impression that once the story had been told, their interviewers had abandoned them, retelling their stories but forgetting them. This “industry of retrieval” resulted in many groups and individuals turning away from outsiders who wished to hear their stories.16 Such voluntary voicelessness and its effect of withdrawing the story from the public domain17, of reclaiming control over personal histories, needs to be given due attention. The following sections will refer to aims of the TRC in removing silences, and also to the manner in which overt as well as covert forms of silencing have contributed to continued voicelessness, even when censorship is lifted and public spaces have been opened up. Aims of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission In South Africa during the early 1990s there was lively public debate on how to bring closure to the conflict that had preceded the elections for an inclusive democracy.18 As has been noted, the decision finally was to institute a high profiled commission, the TRC, which would investigate claims and make arrangements for public hearings in a large number of centres across the country. Those who had suffered human rights violations would testify to their experience; others who had lost kin under suspect circumstances could request investigations that would eventually reveal more complete details. Thus there was a concerted effort to break the silence on events of disappearance, torture, killing or other abuse of kin who were no longer there to protest or ask questions. Additionally, public hearings would offer perpetrators of violent human rights abuses an opportunity to apply for amnesty in exchange for full disclosure of the particular events. There were also hearings at which groups and organisations such as political parties or big commercial institutions were offered an oppor- tunity to make public submissions in which they would disclose their direct or indirect role in structures that enabled human rights abuses of various kinds. Such organisations were also given the opportunity, where appropriate, to apologize and make a commitment to restitu- tion. The official institution of public testimonies aimed at achieving a number of goals which included broad, rather idealistic aims such as mediating reconciliation and facilitating national unity.19 101 Justice and Memory.indb 101 02.11.2009 13:39:08 There were, however, also a number of much more specific and more achievable goals, of which I shall mention a few: In public hearings, it was contended, the silence would be broken on many human rights violations that were at the time either covered up or constructed as justified responses to real threats to (for example) state security or the integrity of an established, ordered community. Such breaking of the silence would achieve the aim of acknowl- edging the extent of the atrocities committed in the years directly preceding the transfer to democratic government. This would over- come the denial of many attached to the earlier regime, that human rights abuses had not occurred systematically and excessively. It would put to rest the claim that violations reported in the media were noth- ing more than isolated incidents of outrageous behaviour of a few undisciplined individuals. Public hearings would assist in committing the past to memory by providing a means of bringing beneficial closure to past traumatic histories. Public relating and remembering of irredeemable losses offered the possibility of memorialisation: those who had lost their lives as well as those who had lost loved ones would be afforded due respect and honour.20 Structured and resourcefully supported opportunities for articu- lating and confronting damaging experiences offered occasion for attending to psychological scars in a manner that could heal the wounds. Of course, in some cases returning to traumatic memories meant re-opening old wounds, so that for certain witnesses the retelling of a traumatic experience had not been one of healing.21 A related aim was to create safe spaces that could assist those who had suffered gross human rights violations in dealing with anger, humiliation, sorrow and injury. Even those who had inflicted abuse are known to suffer from various forms of post-traumatic stress and anxiety. In shifting blame to higher ranking officials, in presenting themselves as minor employees with limited agency, many perpetra- tors constructed themselves as victims co-opted into a vicious system. Such perpetrators sometimes testified to feelings similar to those reported by victims so that they claimed their motivation to testify sprung at least in part from a desire to tell their side of the story. They needed either to justify what they did, or to gain understand- ing for the fact that they were paying a high price for their services to 102 Justice and Memory.indb 102 02.11.2009 13:39:08 the former power holders. They experienced rejection, isolation and stigmatization in communities where they had expected to be received as heroes. The TRC was to give sympathetic audience to such claims as well. Thus another goal set in establishing the TRC was to create safe spaces that would assist those who had perpetrated gross human rights violations in disclosing the whole truth and at the same time unburdening themselves of the weight of shame and guilt22. Those who had suffered gross abuses as well as those who had in- flicted such abuses could look back and experience “voicelessness”. The TRC was set up with the aim of enabling a kind of intervention that would overcome voicelessness and allow victims/survivors as well as perpetrators to speak out. Such breaking of the silence was intended to provide a remedy for national discord. Robins23 refers to this as a powerful, even if flawed, process which at least “opened up a highly visible public accounting of the complexities and ambiguities of ‘the struggle’.” Censorship in the media This section will indicate the forms of overt and covert censorship that were extant in the struggle years that preceded the democratic elections of 1994 and the Government of National Unity that followed. Overt forms of censorship refer to legislation and the implementation of such legislation, that specifically prohibited media reference to state actions as they materialised in police and military engagement in specific “hot spots”. Covert forms of censorship refer to silencing by other, less explicit means such as denial, shame or fear.24 Often during the years of intensified conflict, when a state of emergency was successively introduced (1985–1990), self-censorship was imposed in anticipation of retribution by official mechanisms of a particularly powerful kind.25 Following the lifting of the state of emergency early in 1990 all the censorship regulations attached to Emergency Regula- tions were of course removed. After the institution of the Government of National Unity in 1994 many other regular forms of censorship that had not been removed were no longer invoked. Nevertheless, many covert forms of censorship and self-censorship remain, which I shall exemplify in reference to TRC aims of breaking the silence. 103 Justice and Memory.indb 103 02.11.2009 13:39:08 Overt censorship Legislated regulations that were in one way or another justified had an effect on what was disclosed, on what kinds of events were allowed into the public domain for discussion and consideration. Specifically notable in the final years of the struggle for liberation of an oppressed majority, was media censorship that had been provided for in a di- verse range of laws introduced into the national legal system as early as 1953. The Emergency Regulations announced in 1985 and annu- ally renewed until 1989, were allowed in terms of legislation passed 32 years earlier – the Public Safety Act (3 of 1953). The censorship provided for by the Public Safety Act was augmented by provisions in other legislation such as: – Defence Act (44 of 1957) – Police Act (7 of 1958) – amended 1977, 1979 – Post Office Act (44 of 1958) – Prisons Act (8 of 1959) – Armaments Development and Production Act (57 of 1968) – National Supplies Procurement Act (89 of 1970) – Internal Security Act (74 of 1982) – Protection of Information Act (84 of 1982) The TRC aims included the disclosing of information that had formerly been withheld from the public domain by censorship laws and practices. In many cases26 this aim was certainly achieved. Still, much remains undisclosed, that is silenced. In many other cases the disclosure of lived pain was given in a testimony of 20 to 30 minutes at a TRC hearing.27 Such recounts did not live long in the public memory and eventually they got lost in the sea of other stories, so that finally the silence is perpetuated. Covert censorship This form of censorship is manifest where overt, controlled censor- ship has been removed, but silencing continues due to a number of motivating factors. The media give very selective attention to stories of past suffering. In terms of “newsworthiness,” personal suffering of 104 Justice and Memory.indb 104 02.11.2009 13:39:08 ten to twenty years ago is rarely high on the list, especially if it seems the stories are all very similar. So, where the disclosures at the TRC hearings got extensive coverage at the start of the process in 1996, a wearying readership soon dictated that TRC events moved from the front page to page three or page five. Soon only already well-pub- licised events (such as the Cradock Four, the Guguletu Seven, the Motherwell bombing or the role of the former State President and his refusal to testify) remained prominent in the media. It is not a new media principle that attention goes first to recent news, and that this blurs and silences the less recent. As the poor and those poorly educated do not make out the core readership of any printed news, their interests are rarely considered in the selection of news stories. Most of those who suffered at the hands of the former state security forces belong to communities that ten years after the change of gov- ernment remain poor and poorly resourced. Thus the disclosure of their stories got less attention. Life moves on, people move on, the histories of insignificant people are treated as insignificant by the media. That is a form of covert censorship. Self-censorship is another form of covert censorship. Prompted by (for example) fear of rejection or retribution many perpetrators would disclose no more than they absolutely needed to. Thus the aim of achieving “full disclosure” was defeated. Where evidence had been wiped out (as for example in the fire that destroyed the police files carrying evidence of illegal and abusive conduct in the Paarl police unit) there was little to confirm whether a full disclosure had been made or not, and so many histories remain silenced and the victims remain voiceless. Shame silences both perpetrators and victims, and leaves them unable to talk about the troubles they’ve caused or experi- enced. Victims cannot relate humiliating experiences; perpetrators are humiliated when they are confronted by their own inhumane actions. Prejudice can also perpetuate voicelessness: if a witness is seen to be too meek, too aggressive, too hesitant or too overbearing, members of the audience may doubt the reliability of his/her testimony. When there are different possible renderings of a given event, prejudice may deafen the hearer to an alternative version and so silence the story. In a similar manner a witness who feels intimidated and who does not trust the interrogators will self-censor and rather remain voiceless than be humiliated by an insensitive audience. 105 Justice and Memory.indb 105 02.11.2009 13:39:09 Victims’ silence at the TRC took on a variety of shapes. Many re- fused to bring their stories to such a public space. Such self-censor- ship based on internal refusal to share their story could have been due to their reluctance to re-open old wounds or their feeling that words cannot articulate sufficiently what they have been through. Although interpreting services were available, many were inhibited by linguistic insecurity and cultural difference. A speaker who was not confident in English or Afrikaans (the languages in which most of the commissioners were proficient and in which reporting was done) could be easily intimidated. Those unfamiliar with communicating in a formal setting by means of an interpreting mediator were easily rendered voiceless. Speakers whose narrative techniques are suited to a culture of “orality”, who are used to drawing on traditional values and to interpreting life histories in such terms, often succumb to voicelessness. In more sophisticated contexts, such as those of school halls or church halls where the tables and interpreters’ booths were set up quite formally, they may easily have been silenced, inadvertently, in quite covert ways. Sensing that an interest in their narratives of suffering and loss was often neither personal nor sensitive, many victims/survivors maintained con- trol, convinced that they kept ownership of their history by withholding their stories. Where scholars and counselors appeared to be appropri- ating and re-articulating most sensitive personal histories, victims would self-censor and refuse to talk. For fear of becoming a public spectacle, some felt they would rather be voiceless. Finally many witnesses became fatigued – incessant probing and requests for more detail, for yet another recount by counselors, researchers and the media, simply silenced them. The locus of voice The concept “locus of voice”28 is introduced to explain where the creative and constructive power of discourse is situated. Cuéllar29 com- ments on how “testimony” becomes “story” and how ownership of the history and the memory seem to shift once a witness’s story has been moved into a public space. He notes the feelings of dislocation, frag- mentation, disempowerment and despair that some reported after the “momentary catharsis” of sharing their story either at a TRC hearing or in interviews with trauma experts from various backgrounds. Im- 106 Justice and Memory.indb 106 02.11.2009 13:39:09 portant points to consider here in reflecting on how interrogating and analysing testimonies can silence the experiencers, are related to questions of who owns the stories recounted in TRC testimonies and disseminated in the media, or how the stories are retold and dissolved into new narratives. Victims who consented to witnessing at the TRC eventually were faced with having to deal with other testifiers’ experi- ences that left impressions of their stories having been “robbed” and “recolonised”; with the way in which personal stories are inevitably transformed and alienated once they are out in the public space; with selective media reporting that made some events highly visible and others only barely so; and, with the deception of popular adages such as “remembering in order to forget”. The aim of remembering in order to finally come to terms and then to move forward is not eas- ily achieved. When speakers are not voiceless, it is still important to determine where “voice” is located – who controls, who determines what will become part of a collective public memory and what will be committed to silence. Who has access to the stories and the memories, and who has the right to retell and claim authorship? The question that emerges is how it is possible for recounts of trauma to actually break silence and facilitate healing. And of course one needs to assess whether the breaking of the silence as it was done by a TRC in South Africa, actually achieved the aims that had been set, communicatively and otherwise. As has been indicated, one of the main objectives of the TRC was to break the silence on injustices that had never been disclosed, had only limitedly been explained, or that had been officially denied as if they had never even happened. Testimonies of victims/survivors of gross human rights violations at the hands of state institutions very clearly functioned as a means of recognising the authenticity of their experiences. The healing potential of having one’s story heard and acknowledged as a real event where suffering and loss resulted from excessive, unwarranted (even criminal) acts of powerful people authorised by the state, is one of the recognised effects of breaking the silence. A further recognised effect lies in the healing potential of knowing the truth even if it is a terrible truth such as that a loved one who had disappeared, had been killed in distressing circumstances where there was no hope of even recovering the remains. Perpetrators of violence were obviously less forthcoming in offering to testify. Even 107 Justice and Memory.indb 107 02.11.2009 13:39:09 so, the potential relief of finally giving up dark secrets is a recognised route to reconciliation not only with others, but also with themselves. The TRC hearings were structured to locate the voices of witnesses in a space that is public and yet safe enough for them to be spoken clearly. Rigby30 articulates the difficulty of an attempt at constructing memories that will not only sustain historical wounds and thereby reproduce divisions and enmities from generation to generation, but will underpin the possibility to transform and heal. In attempting to break the silence, the TRC took on such a challenge. To have imagined that finally we would reach a point where all had been disclosed, where all had been put into perspective and positively integrated into personal and communal histories, and where reconcil- iation had largely been achieved, would have been rather utopian. In the remaining part of the paper I shall refer to various ways in which silences that had been encoded during the fatal years of repressive violence were to a certain extent lifted during the hearings. I shall specifically refer to overt silencing during the 1980s and then also to covert silencing that continues even after the stories have been medi- ated in a TRC process. There are discourses that still contain untold stories, silences. Covert censorship results not only from fear and shame, from lapses in memory or from personal limits in ability to articulate; it also results from flagging public interest, from listeners’ weariness that becomes visible in a longing for the Schlußstrich, the clean break, the opportunity of a new beginning even if the silence has only partially been broken. Silences broken and silences perpetuated It is necessary here to distinguish between overt silencing that oc- curred during the period of repression, notably when a State of Emergency afforded the security forces inordinate liberty in their pursuit of “enemies of the state”, and the resulting silences in the media where reporters were either not able to gain information or were allowed only at their own peril to publish information they in fact had gained. Excerpts 1 and 2 below are illustrations of how such overt state silencing was effected, and then also of how the TRC hearings penetrated those silences. Excerpts 3 to 5 below illustrate 108 Justice and Memory.indb 108 02.11.2009 13:39:09 how silences around narratives of atrocities in the 1980s were broken during TRC testimonies; however, they will also illustrate how some silences are perpetuated even after the TRC process.31 I. Pre-1990/pre-TRC: overt censorship, silence The following excerpt illustrates how silences were encoded in the terms of reference introduced in some of the undercover, illegal ac- tions of security forces. Often such terms were completely opaque so that even critical media did not have access to them (compare “associ- ate”); other terms in fact were taken into the popular struggle jargon of the time and also used in the media (compare “askari”). During the testimony of some perpetrators such silences were broken in that they were upfront about the referential meanings of the jargon they had developed and used. Excerpts 1 and 2 were recorded as part of the very lengthy testimony of Gideon Nieuwoudt, related during the amnesty hearing on the Motherwell Bombing, Port Elizabeth. EXCERPT 1 – Coded language as instrument in silencing Motherwell is an area on the outskirts of Port Elizabeth in the Eastern Cape which became renowned for a particular event in which four black policemen died in a car bomb attack. It was made to look like a terrorist attack on the police, but it soon transpired that a special unit of Vlakplaas in Pretoria had been engaged to make, install and detonate a bomb that would kill a number of black colleagues. The colleagues were suspected of having leaked information on planned police action to local members of resistance organisations. At the TRC hearing family members denied the police force version of the allegations. In this excerpt Advocate Booyens (B), a TRC commissioner, directly asked Gideon Nieuwoudt (GN), a commanding officer in the area at the time of the bombing, about particular terms that had been in use in the security services and in military intelligence at the time. These terms were critical in determining the role of various participants who had been go-betweens in the security force actions of gaining 109 Justice and Memory.indb 109 02.11.2009 13:39:09 information on the community leaders in the African townships. The particular terms in question here are the referring expressions “Am- abutu” that referred to the informal armed resistance groups in the township communities, and “askari”, “associate”, “source” and “agent” that each referred to a different kind of informer and collaborator. B: In paragraph 19 you talk about the Amabutu, what is that? GN: That is a terminology which was used, to mean the army of the people. . . GN: . . . Charles Jack was a trained person whom we used as an informer and he later gave evidence in several court cases and at a later stage during 1983/1984 he then joined us perma- nently at our Branch. B: I think the term is commonly known here, he was an aska- ri? GN: Right. B: In other words a person who was trained as an MK and then was turned to work for you? ... B: Paragraph 4, page 318, you say XXX . . ., you refer to that and then you define what you mean by XXX . . ., perhaps you should explain to us, you talk about associates, what do you mean by that? GN: Mr Chairman, associates would act as go-betweens between the agent and the handler. And in my case, as is well-known in Port Elizabeth, I made specific use of associates to deal with the agents for me in order to protect their identities. B: So an associate would be a civilian person who is well disposed towards you? GN: Correct. B: As far as the source is concerned, would the source necessarily always have known that he was working for the Security Police or would he sometimes be under the impression that he was working for MI6 or the CIA or something like that? GN: The agent wouldn’t know that he was working for the Security Branch. 110 Justice and Memory.indb 110 02.11.2009 13:39:09 B: Were the sources sometimes deliberately brought under the impression that they were working for some of the other intel- ligence agencies that I have referred to? GN: Yes. EXCERPT 2 – Explicit decision not to testify; self-censorship, silence in order not to incriminate a colleague This excerpt is also taken from the record of the hearing on the Motherwell bombing. Following the incident in 1989 there was an investigation and trial which already disclosed that the bombing had most likely been part of a “dirty trick” on the part of the security forces. At the TRC hearing almost ten years later, Eugene de Kock, former chief commander of Vlakplaas who was already serving a life sentence for his role in improper political killings, testified and of- fered detailed information on how the request for assisting in a car bomb attack in Port Elizabeth had been managed from Pretoria. Dur- ing the 1990 trial, Kobus Kok (K) who had built the bombing device without being clear on exactly where and why it would be used, had chosen not to testify at all – he had self-censored to protect colleagues. This decision to use silence he disclosed at the TRC hearing in the following way: K: I can’t specifically remember what I have written here. DeJ: It is not what is written there, it is what is the truth. K: I’m telling you the truth. ... P: What was your version? K: I gave no version, I refused to say anything. I did not give evi- dence. ... K: I was charged as an accused in the murder trial. P: Were there allegations that you were involved? K: Yes, there were. ... K: To the contrary, I refused to say anything and I pleaded not guilty. P: Why did you deny it? Why didn’t you just say that I followed 111 Justice and Memory.indb 111 02.11.2009 13:39:09 a direct order from security head office, I did not doubt it at any time; I will not doubt Waal du Toit. K: I was accused of murder and I was part of the system in which I believed. I was part of the group who rendered technical as- sistance. I was definitely not going to protect myself, not testify against my other colleagues. The silence on how the secret military unit at Vlakplaas had contributed to state repression had been broken some time before the TRC was instituted. Much had already been disclosed in 1993–4 when Eugene de Kock was tried and sentenced. Even so, former colleagues often protected one another and thus they were very guarded in their testi- monies. However, during the TRC process De Kock, who apparently felt he had been sold out by his former supervisors, did not hold back. He co-operated in giving detailed information in such a way that his earlier collaborators were obliged to apply for amnesty. Kobus Kok acknowledged at his Amnesty Hearing that he had chosen to remain silent in 1990 in solidarity with colleagues. By then, with the protection of the former regime removed, he owned up to his role in a way that he did not do when questions had been asked earlier on. The story of the Motherwell bombing had not escaped the media in 1989, even if many unanswered questions remained. Due to the notoriety of the case, the TRC hearings where this event was dealt with received considerable media attention. Thus the silence had been broken not only in the safe space of the TRC venue, but also in the wider public space of the national media. II. Post-TRC: continued censorship of a new, more covert kind The TRC did indeed contribute to disclosing much that was formerly completely concealed. A case in point is the incident that is recorded as the Guguletu Seven. The full extent of the deception that had led to the brutal deaths of seven relatively innocent and trusting young men only became clear when members of the media closely followed the TRC investigation team. They virtually stumbled on evidence that the relevant police unit was attempting to conceal, even as late as 1996. Nevertheless, many silences remain and much that was disclosed passed by virtually unnoticed, so that some events only briefly broke 112 Justice and Memory.indb 112 02.11.2009 13:39:09 through the surface and have since slipped back into a forgotten space. This section will illustrate the kinds of discourses that, after the TRC, are silenced by new covert forms of media censorship. Excerpts 3 to 5 will refer to the narratives of: (i) a young man, survivor of inordinately severe police assault dur- ing custody, whose story never really got further than the TRC transcripts now stored in barely accessible files, (ii) a woman who lost her son, her only hope of a breadwinner, her nearest male relative who would, according to custom, have taken care of her in old age and whose story is similarly silenced because of her narrative style that was unfamiliar and opaque to the translators and interpreters, and (iii) a middle-aged man, a police reservist whose participation in the state machinery has, in the aftermath, left him unemployed, a person without the respect of his family or community. A large number of stories were not published in the media at all (compare Ndinisi’s recount); others were published with relatively scant details at the time of the event (compare Guguletu Seven, Trojan Horse incident). Even in well-publicised cases the reporting is selec- tive so that some aspects are highlighted, some witnesses’ stories are prioritized, while others’ get no or very limited attention. Thus the media may break the silence in some cases, but may covertly censor and so commit to silence other cases. EXCERPT 3 – Stories told and forgotten again Andile Ndinisa was a youngster living in the township of Mbekweni, Paarl, in the 1980s when during political protest he was shot in the back by police. He sustained permanent injuries which have left him unemployable and badly adjusted to his environment. His story, as many similar others, received no media coverage at the time of the shooting, nor after the TRC hearing in Paarl where he testified. At the hearing the authenticity of what he had suffered as a result of rash, unjustified police action was admitted. Except for a brief reference to his testimony in the TRC transcripts, his narrative is silenced. The restitution process eventually offered him a small amount of money 113 Justice and Memory.indb 113 02.11.2009 13:39:10 (R30.000/€3.000), but no entry into the collective national memory. Andile testified in Xhosa, thus the text below is the transcribed inter- preter’s rendering. The excerpt breaks some of the silence of stories told and almost immediately forgotten again. N: . . . What I noticed and what I heard from people is that I am short-tempered, I quarrel a lot with people and it makes me unhappy. I become temperamental and thereafter I regret, but my mother has been told that I’m being affected by the bullets. But as for now I – I can’t stand for a long time because I – if I stand for long time I have some pains on my back. EXCERPT 4 – Remembering incidents, forgetting names; highlight- ing some testimonies, glossing over others As has been indicated before, the Guguletu Seven received substantial media attention. This in spite of the fact that the relatives of three of the seven youngsters were never traced. Thus the life histories of these three are silenced. Three of the youngsters’ mothers testified before the TRC. Interestingly, the narratives of the mothers living in Guguletu, an urban township in close proximity to Cape Town, were relatively conventionally structured, and certainly easier to interpret and transcribe than those of the mother who came from a rural com- munity. This resulted in the formers’ stories being better heard than the testimony of Mrs Konile, mother of Zabonke, who resides in Indwe, a rural village in the Eastern Cape. Her son, who had been living in Guguletu, had most probably been unemployed. Along with six oth- ers he was approached by an askari and deceitfully lured into a police ambush staged for propaganda purposes. Mrs Konile’s testimony is recorded in the written transcripts of the TRC hearings in rather poorly translated form. Her story, in comparison to the others, was afforded selective, limited reference in the media. It was most prob- ably silenced because of the traditional oral narrative style she used, which makes extensive use of implicature based in local customs and beliefs. Commission members, interpreters and schooled members of the media found her narrative relatively inaccessible.32 Mrs Konile testified in Xhosa. This excerpt gives first an extract of her words as they have been extracted from the original soundtrack 114 Justice and Memory.indb 114 02.11.2009 13:39:10 by Mpolweni-Zantsi. Following the Xhosa text is Mpolweni-Zantsi’s translation of the particular extract, and of a number of lines from the rest of her testimony. These are given to illustrate the metaphoric and implicatory nature of her story about how she received the news of her son’s death and the impact it had then, and still had at the time of the hearing. A dream in which a goat features is, in rural Xhosa tradition, commonly understood as a bad omen. Receiving bad news is compared to having been hit by a rock. As the context of the hearing was limitedly equipped to accommodate such culture-specific references, the story was in effect censored. Sihambe sibuy’ epeyini. Ndithi kulo ndihamba naye, ndithi, “Heyi! Yhaz’ umbilini wam, undiphethe kakubi. Phezolo ndiphuphe kakubi. Ndiphuphe apha ngasemnyango, kukho ibhokhwe emileyo, eyenjenje, ehh-emileyo ethe”, ahleke athi lo, athi “Eyi! Uphuphe kakubi nyhani,” Ngasemthini. We (Mrs Konile and a friend) went and came back (from the grants office). I said to the one I was going with, I said, “Heyi! You know what, my heart is palpitating with a strange feeling, and it persists. Last night I had a terrible dream. I dreamt that here at the door there was a goat that was standing, like this, ehh- standing like this, next to the tree” (gesturing with her hands), and my friend laughed and said, “Eyi! You really had a bad dream.” ... I was hit by a rock on that day, it was a Thursday. I was hit by a rock, the rock fell on me. I was nearly buried by the rock. The rock landed on my waist . . . I was hit at eleven and was recovered at four. I asked for water, they said there’s no water. . . Due to good media coverage many can relate the details of the outra- geous Guguletu Seven event that was staged by a “third force” of the Botha government; however, very few can give the names of the seven. A memorial plaque at the site of the ambush remembers them, and so has given them some place in the national memory. As a contribution to challenging the silence, the names of the seven youngsters are given here: Christopher Piet Ngewu Zabonke John Konile Godfrey Jabulani Miya Mandla Simon Mxingwa 115 Justice and Memory.indb 115 02.11.2009 13:39:10 Themba Mlifi Zandisile Zennith Mjobo Zola Alfred Zwelani EXCERPT 5 – Perpetrators’ silences The provisions for hearing testimonies intended to give all witnesses equal protection, whether they testified as victims or as perpetrators. Nevertheless, perpetrators very often were given quite a hard time when they were interrogated. Some perpetrators only testified after being subpoenaed; some disclosed critical information but eventually were given limited audience. Thus, as with many victim testimonies, the stories are silenced in a new way: they are not retold. Disclosures that put the perpetrator in a sympathetic light do not fit the stere- otype and so have been given little media coverage. Other perpetrators most likely did not make full disclosures. Where limited disclosure was evident it may have jeopardised the granting of amnesty – but the silence is perpetuated. This excerpt is taken from the transcript of the Trojan Horse Inci- dent. The incident occurred when armed policemen in plain clothes concealed themselves in boxes on a big transport lorry that was sent out intentionally to provoke township youngsters into stoning it. As soon as the first stone hit the windscreen, the police returned with gunfire, killing three and injuring a number of other protesters. At the hearing of this case a number of witnesses were subpoenaed. Douw Vermeulen’s testimony illustrates how many perpetrators, rather than giving spontaneous evidence in oral narrative style, would read a care- fully prepared statement. Such statements enabled careful selection of words and phrases, and allowed the speakers to choose focus in a way that could conceal incriminating or embarrassing details. I, Douw Vermeulen, hereby state under oath. I am an adult male and I am a security advisor and I live in Goodwood. I was approached by the Investigative Unit of the Truth Commission and notified that I would have to appear before the Commission on (date) to give evidence and to answer questions relating to the so-called Trojan Horse incident which took place on the 15th of October 1985, in Athlone, in which Michael Miranda, Shaun Magmoed and Jonathan Claasen died and others were injured . . . On the 15th of October 1985, there was a lot of unrest in the Athlone area and the focal points of the unrest were in Thornton Roads and Belgravia Road . . . experience 116 Justice and Memory.indb 116 02.11.2009 13:39:10 had taught us that there was not much use in us trying to apprehend the ringleaders, or try and arrest them by means of normal policing methods and normal police vehicles . . . I was summoned . . . Mr L, the commanding officer . . . instructed me to go . . . the persons under my command were, on instructions of L, given 9 mm pistols and shotguns . . . At about 16h45 we entered the unrest area . . . Conclusion In summary it seems to be clear that silences of human rights viola- tions during times of national conflict are not easily broken. Cen- sorship takes on a number of forms: either there is overt censorship illustrated in decisions not to speak out or to disallow others who could speak out; or there is covert censorship illustrated in self-censorship, or in the suppression of stories by for example keeping them out of the public domain, denying them any significance in historic memory of a community. When victims/survivors of human rights abuses are voiceless, it becomes a perpetuation of the violence. Such voiceless- ness is illustrated in the inability of those who have suffered abuse to speak about it. It is also illustrated when the perpetrator chooses to remain silent, to censor the retelling of an injustice. Other forms of voicelessness are illustrated when the stories of victims are received as untruthful, when others (for example the media) appropriate the stories in such a manner that the event is recorded, but the people who were most affected are forgotten. Finally, voicelessness is also il- lustrated when a story of trauma is told, heard and then forgotten. The South African news media reported in a very circumspect way on some human rights violations in the years preceding democratic elections; they reported again on many such violations shortly after the elections, when the TRC process systematically attempted to break the silence. Considering what was disclosed and what remained undisclosed and silenced, one has to conclude that the public media are limited vehicles for facilitating the process of regaining voice. An important point to be drawn from this is that, inevitably, a degree of censorship remains which obliges one to confront the silence and to do so with a view to meaningful commemoration. One cannot draw a line on discourses of past trauma, trying to silence them without them ever having been told. There is a need to investigate how break- ing the silence, even only in part, can be used to overcome anger, 117 Justice and Memory.indb 117 02.11.2009 13:39:10 sorrow and injury to such an extent that a transition to a reconciled way of life becomes possible and authentic. The TRC, even where the process at times was flawed, assisted in breaking the silence on a personal and communal level. The TRC also offered a first step in the direction of memorialising – illustrat- ing that, to some extent, the violence of voicelessness can be reversed, and at the same time reminding that silence and censorship are never completely removed. Notes 1 Note that ROBINS 1998: p. 9 refers to the claim that human rights violations of the liberation movements could be compared to those perpetrated by the state as “a kind of perverse relativism”. FOSTER 2000, in making a similar point, under- scores the difference that has to be recognized, between violence of the powerful and the powerless. 2 For more detail on the discourses leading up to the institution of a TRC in South Africa, see also TUTU 1999, ORR 2000, VILLAVICENCIO and VERWOERD 2000, BELL 2001, CHAPMAN and VAN DER MERWE 2008. 3 According to DU TOIT 1997: p. 9 probably the greatest public impact of the TRC was made by the victims’ stories – “the numbers who came forward, demonstrating the sheer scope and impact of political atrocities … [t]he cumulative effect as wit- ness followed witness”, was not so much to add new information as to acknowledge publically and officially what had so long been denied. See also ROTBERG and THOMPSON 2000. 4 The proceedings of a conference held in Cape Town to mark the anniversary, ten years after the first hearings, have been collected in VILLAVICENCIO and DU TOIT 2006. 5 Cf. MARTIN and ROSE 2003; BOCK et al 2006; VERDOOLAEGE 2007. 6 Cf. BUNDY 2000: pp. 13–16 concerning the difficulties of writing an official history that would break silences in such a way that “as complete a picture as possible” would emerge. The aim of gaining full disclosure of past atrocities turned out to be “an exceptionally demanding brief”. 7 Cf. GALASINSKI 2000. 8 Cf. WODAK 1989, 1996; REISIGL and WODAK 2001, BENKE and WODAK 2003; WEISS and WODAK 2003; FAIRCLOUGH 1995a, 1995b; FOWLER et al. 1979; VAN DIJK 1993. 9 Cf. MARTIN and ROSE 2003. 10 Cf. LABOV 2001. 11 See for example the analyses of Helena’s story in MARTIN and ROSE 2003, of Colin de Souza’s testimony by BLOMMAERT, BOCK and McCORMICK 2006 or of the Trojan Horse testimonies by ANTHONISSEN 2006. 118 Justice and Memory.indb 118 02.11.2009 13:39:10 12 1998, in McGOLDRICK and HARDY 2008: p. 9. 13 McGOLDRICK and HARDY 2008: pp. 7–11 are critical of the way in which typically the victims of abuse are identified by naming various disorders, while we palpably lack nomenclature for referring to the aberrations of those who traumatize others. 14 DU TOIT 1997; ROBINS 1998; CUÉLLAR 2005. 15 CUÉLLAR 2005: p. 163. 16 CUÉLLAR 2005: p. 169. 17 Also interesting is the elected voicelessness at the TRC of victims such as the Mxenge family who rejected the apologies of former Police Captain Dirk Coetzee and his askari-accomplice Joe Mamasela. They called for due process in which the murders of activists Griffiths and Victoria Mxenge would be properly dealt with in a regular court of law, where amnesty on the basis of disclosure would not be an option to the perpetrators, ROBINS 1998: p. 12. 18 Cf. KEOG 1998, TUTU 2000, BUNDY 2000. 19 Cf. BELL 2001. 20 DU TOIT 1997; ROBINS 1998; CUÉLLAR 2005; CHAPMAN and VAN DER MERWE 2008. 21 VAN DER MERWE, in CHAPMAN and VAN DER MERWE 2008: pp. 27ff. 22 It has to be noted, however, that amnesty hearings saw more discourses of justifica- tion than discourses of confession and pleas for forgiveness; there was considerable silence on feelings of guilt, contrition, shame or compassion for victims. 23 1998: pp. 11, 12. 24 Cf. ANTHONISSEN 2008. 25 ANTHONISSEN 2008. 26 Cf. the Guguletu Seven referred to below. 27 Cf. the story of Mr Ndinisa referred to below. 28 CUÉLLAR 2005:172. 29 2005: p. 173. 30 2003: p. 93–112. 31 The excerpts are taken from transcripts posted at http://www.doj.gov.za/trc/am- ntrans/am1997.htm. There has been considerable discussion on the accuracy and reliability of the transcripts mainly due to the unusual circumstances in which they were produced, cf. ANTHONISSEN 2008b; video recordings for some are available. Only the official transcripts published on the TRC-website were used in the analysis given here. 32 Cf. MPOLWENI-ZANTSI 2008. Bibliography C. ANTHONISSEN, The sounds of silence in the media: censorship and self-censorship, in R. WODAK and V. KOLLER, Handbook of Applied Linguistics vol.3: Language and Communication in the Public Sphere, Berlin: De Gruyter, 2008a. 119 Justice and Memory.indb 119 02.11.2009 13:39:10 C. ANTHONISSEN, On Interpreting the Interpreter – experiences of language practitioners mediating for the TRC, in Journal of Multicultural Discourses 3:3, pp. 165–188, 2008b. T. BELL, Unfinished Business: South Africa, Apartheid and Truth, Cape Town: RedWorks, 2001. G. BENKE and R. WODAK, R., The discursive construction of indi- vidual memories. How Austrian “Wehrmacht” soldiers remember WWII, in J.R. MARTIN and R. WODAK (Eds), Re/reading the past: Critical and functional perspectives on time and value, Amsterdam: John Benjamins, 2003, pp. 115–138. Z. BOCK, “Language has a heart”: linguistic markers of evaluation in selected TRC testimonies, in Journal of Multicultural Discourses 3:3, 2008 pp. 189–203. Z. BOCK, N. MAZAWI, S. METULA, and N. MPOLWENI-ZANTSI, An analysis of what has been “lost” in the interpretation and transcription process of selected TRC testimonies, in Spil Plus 33, 2006, pp. 1–26. C. BUNDY, The Beast of the Past: History and the TRC, in W. JAMES and L. VAN DE VIJVER (eds.), After the TRC: reflections on truth and reconciliation in South Africa, Cape Town: David Philip, 2000, pp. 9–20. A.R. CHAPMAN and H. VAN DER MERWE (eds.), Truth and Rec- onciliation in South Africa: Did the TRC Deliver?, Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2008. A.C . CUELLAR, Unraveling Silence: Violence, Memory and the Limits of Anthropology’s Craft, in Dialectical Anthropology 29:2, 2005, pp. 159–180. K. DOYLE, “Forgetting is not justice”: Mexico bares its secret past, in World Policy Journal, Summer 2003, pp. 61–72. A. DU TOIT, No rest without the wicked – assessing the truth commission, in Indicator South Africa 14:1, 1997, pp. 7–12. N. FAIRCLOUGH, Critical Discourse Analysis, London–New York: Longman, 1995a. N. FAIRCLOUGH, Media Discourse, London–New York–Sydney: Ed- ward Arnold, 1995b. D. FOSTER, The Truth and Recociliation Commission and under- standing perpetrators, in South African Journal of Psychology 30:1, 2000, pp. 2–9. 120 Justice and Memory.indb 120 02.11.2009 13:39:11 R. FOWLER, G. KRESS, R. HODGE and T. TREW, Language and Control, London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1979. D. GALASINSKI, The Language of Deception – a Discourse Analytical Study, London–Thousand Oaks, Ca: Sage, 2000. A. KROG, Country of my Skull, Johannesburg: Random House, 1998. W. JAMES and Linda VAN DE VIJVER (eds.), After the TRC: reflec- tions on truth and reconciliation in South Africa, Cape Town: David Philip, 2000. W. LABOV, Uncovering the event structure of narrative, in Georgetown University Round Table 2001: pp. 63–83. J. MARTIN and D. ROSE, Working with Discourse: Meaning beyond the clause, London: Continuum, 2003. M. McGOLDRICK and K.V. HARTDY (eds.), Revisioning Family Therapy: Race, Culture and Gender in Clinical Practice, New York: Guilford Press, 2008. N. MPOLWENI-ZANTSI, The importance of the original: Challenges in interpreting a Xhosa testimony before the South African TRC, in Journal of Multicultural Discourses 3:3, 2008, pp. 231–232. W. ORR, From Biko to Basson, Johannesburg: Contra Press, 2000. A. RIGBY, Dealing with the past: forgiveness and the reconstruction of memory in divided societies, in International Journal of Politics and Ethics 3 (1), 2003, pp. 93–112. M. REISIGL and R. WODAK, Discourse and Discrimination – Rhetorics of Racism and Antisemitism, London–New York: Routledge, 2001. S. ROBINS, The truth shall make you free? Toronto Committee for the Liberation of Southern Africa in Southern Africa report, August 1998, pp. 9–13. R.I. ROTBERG, and D. THOMPSON, Truth v. Justice, Princeton Uni- versity Press: Princeton, NJ, 2000. D. TUTU, No Future without Forgiveness, London: Random House, 1999. T.A. VAN DIJK, Principles of critical discourse analysis, in Discourse & Society, 4(2), 1993, pp. 249–285. A. VERDOOLAEGE, Reconciliation Discourse: the case of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, Amsterdam: John Benjamins, 2008. C. VILLAVICENCIO and F. DuTOIT, Truth and Reconciliation in South Africa: 10 years on, Cape Town: New Africa Books, 2006. 121 Justice and Memory.indb 121 02.11.2009 13:39:11 C. VILLAVICENCIO and W. VERWOERD, Looking Back Reaching Forward, Cape Town: University of Cape Town Press, 2000. G. WEISS and R. WODAK (eds.), Critical Discourse Analysis – Theory and Interdisciplinarity, Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003. R. WODAK (ed.), Language, Power and Ideology, Amsterdam: John Benjamins, 1989. R. WODAK, Disorders of Discourse, London: Longman, 1996. Websites http://www.doj.gov.za/trc/amntrans/am1997.htm accessed 27 Janu- ary 2009 http://www.doj.gov.za/trc/hrvtrans/ct_victim.htm accessed 27 Janu- ary 2009 http://www.doj.gov.za/trc/hrvtrans/wineland/ct00259.htm accessed 27 January 2009 http://www.doj.gov.za/trc/hrvtrans/polls/ct00108.htm accessed 27 January 2009 http://www.doj.gov.za/trc/special/index.htm#thh accessed 27 Janu- ary 2009 http://www.doj.gov.za/trc/special/trojan/dverm.htm accessed 27 January 2009 122 Justice and Memory.indb 122 02.11.2009 13:39:11 Dealing with the Past in Spain Between Amnesia and Collective Memory Walther L. Bernecker For some years, in Spain there has been a polarised and polarising debate about how the events of the recent past, the Civil War and the oppressive dictatorship, were dealt with. In order to understand the biting polemic of the political-ideological fight for position, one must look back at the Franco era and the early years of the democratic process following Franco’s death in 1975. The Spanish case differs from other European cases in many aspects. The war, which is the focal point of the whole discussion on memory, was primarily a Civil War. From the start it was internationalised, but in its origins and historical significance it was primarily an internal Spanish conflict. This must always be remembered when viewing the Spanish Civil War (1936–1939). After the war, there was no political system in place which allowed or encouraged discussion about the war. On the con- trary: a long dictatorship followed, which practised brutal oppression and allowed only a one-sided view of the war.1 Only the victor’s point of view was tolerated. When finally, after the death of the dictator (1975) and the gradual transition to democracy, the views of the de- feated could be expressed, memory of the war was accompanied by memory of the dictatorship and oppression. These two aspects have always been inseparable.2 The Franco regime and memory Before discussing the history of politics and the right to memory granted by democracy in Spain, the history of memory of the Spanish Civil War during Franco’s forty-year dictatorship, which was often more a history of political instrumentalisation, must be addressed briefly. The past has always been used for political expediency of 123 Justice and Memory.indb 123 02.11.2009 13:39:11 the present. Memory and the public orchestration of memory have always been eminently political. The total defeat of the Republicans in 1939 led to a totally new direction in remembrance politics. From then on, “tradition” was to be dictated by the victors. Memory was handled by the Francoists from the first day of the Civil War onwards. They took over the public realm, eliminated democratic symbols, changed street and place names, organised parties and ral- lies. They spared no effort to legitimise their rule through symbolic politics, and use these to stabilise the emerging regime. From the beginning and throughout the whole Franco era, the regime tried damnatio historiae to erase all historical memory that did not corre- spond with the tradition of the 17/18 July 1936 uprising: physically by murdering all exponent powers on the Republican side, politically by the ruthless division of power amongst the victors, intellectually through censorship and prohibition, using one-sided indoctrination as propaganda, culturally by eliminating all symbols deemed to be “anti-Spain”, which had been fought against for three long years with gruelling slowness right up to an unconditional surrender. The victors were only concerned – sometimes directly and brutally, sometimes conciliatorily and subtly – with integrating their rule in a tradition going back to a glorious past and presenting themselves in the historical continuity of imperial great power politics. Memory encompassed both time and space equally. From the time perspective, the “national” faction even started a new era: 1936 was called “First Triumphal Year” (Primer Año Triunfal), 1939 “Victory Year” (Año de la Victoria). Incidentally, they drew extensively on history, particularly from the epochs which are considered Spain’s heyday: the end of the 15th century under the reign of the Catholic Kings, the imperial 16th century with Charles V and Philipp II as dominat- ing monarchs. The following centuries of decadence, particularly the 19th century as an era of negatively interpreted liberalism, were eradicated to a large extent. Regarding “space”, the new powers-that-be seized the topography symbolically by changing names of places and streets, buildings and institutions and decking them with names with new politically historical relevance. The traditional cathedral of the patron saint of Spain, Our Lady of the Pillar of Zaragoza, was renamed as the “shrine of the race”; most main streets were given the names Avenida 124 Justice and Memory.indb 124 02.11.2009 13:39:11 del Generalísimo or Avenida de José Antonio Primo de Rivera. The Church played an important part in ritualising political memory for many years. Franco’s politics of memory served only one purpose: to legiti- mise his regime, to anchor it as a quasi-logical development in the traditions of glorious Spanish history and simultaneously erase the memory of the opposition – the Liberals and Democrats, Socialists and Communists, Freemasons and Jews. Suppression of historical memory After the end of the Franco era, the country was able to manage the transition to democracy surprisingly easily. During the Franco regime and afterwards, the Civil War was invariably an obligatory topic for political and historical discussion; hardly anyone missed the chance to mention the origin of Franco’s regime in the war. And the post 1975 boom in literature about the Civil War corresponded to the increased demand from the majority of the population for information and clarification, as in the previous decades history had been frequently written by the victors as an instrument to legitimise their regime.3 It was to be expected that in democratic Spain on the anniversaries of the Civil War, increased activities would take place in order to satisfy the public’s need for information. The 1976/1979 anniversaries fell directly in the middle of the politically troubled transitional phase; the politicians and the public needed all their energy to cope with the transition from dictatorship to democracy. After this balancing act was accomplished successfully and since the Socialist Party had governed unopposed from 1982 onwards, the 1986 anniversary gave the newly democratised Spain an opportunity to remember the begin- ning of the Civil War 50 years earlier without ideological guidelines proscribed by the State. Undoubtedly in 1986 there were also public events meant to remind the public of the beginning of the Civil War (although the anniversary of the end of the Civil War came and went without much notice in 1989); but measured against the paramount importance of this war for modern Spain the commemorative cele- brations were rather moderate. Most events had crossed over into the relatively safer domains of the historians. Almost all those account- 125 Justice and Memory.indb 125 02.11.2009 13:39:11 able in politics and academia were unanimous: not new excuses, but clarification was needed; not the old men who had fought the war, but young academics who only knew about it from sources and liter- ature were the protagonists of the events. And even they were always admonished to argue “objectively” and at a “historical distance”, as one was after all speaking about an event that was long past and had been a part of “history” for a long time. These conferences and congresses resulted in several volumes which presented a largely balanced picture of the Civil War; widespread historical magazines (for example Historia 16) and daily papers with a high circulation (El País et cetera) ran diverse articles on the Civil War. On the other hand, official Spain had little to report. In June 1986, only a few weeks before the actual anniversary of the start of the Civil War, the parliamentary elections were on the political agenda. The ruling Socialist Party was fighting to keep their absolute majority and in this politically sensitive situation, centre and moderate right-wing voters should not be unsettled or even scared off by public reference in the mass media to the division of Spanish society in the 30s. At that time the Socialist Party had been unequivocally left-wing. The only announcement from the Moncloa Palace – made by Prime Minister Felipe González as the Head of Government of Spain, not as General Secretary of the Socialist Party – was that the Civil War was “not an event that should be remembered, even though it was, for those who had experienced and suffered it, a watershed in their lives”. In the meantime, the war had finally become history, a part of the memories and the collective experience of the Spanish people; it was “no longer alive and present in the reality of a country whose moral conscience is based ultimately on the principles of Freedom and Tolerance”.4 Certainly this type of remark was to be heard in association with the democratic reorganisation after 1975 and with the key word during the collapse of the dictatorship: consenso, cooperation of all with all. The traumatic experience of Civil War, the most brutal practice of violence and division of society must have silently formed the back- drop for many attitudes and measures in the transition to democracy: for the acceptance of the monarchy by the Republican socialists, for the moderate position of the communists, for the cooperation of all political powers in drafting the new Constitution. The new democ- 126 Justice and Memory.indb 126 02.11.2009 13:39:11 racy should not be built on one party against the will of the others, rather with the cooperation of all political parties if at all possible. The prerequisite for this was the reconciliation between all former enemy factions. Old outstanding accounts should not be settled, but a line should be drawn under the rows and enmities of the past. This desire for reconciliation and the fear of re-opening old-new unhealed wounds may have moved the ruling Socialists – the main losers in the Civil War! – to ignore the 1986 anniversary officially, yes, to suppress it and in addition to show political understanding for the former “other” side. The Moncloa Declaration states furthermore that the Government wishes “to honour and hold high the memory of all those who strived at all times – and many who paid with their lives – to defend Freedom and Democracy in Spain”; at the same time it remembered with respect “those who from a different viewpoint to that of democratic Spain fought for a different society, and gave their lives for it”. The Government hoped that “the ghost of war and hate would never again visit our country, darken our consciousness or destroy our freedom. Therefore, the Government expresses a wish that the 50th anniversary of the Civil War should finally seal the reconciliation of the Spanish people.” The Socialists who ruled until 1996 reverted to the legacy of fear as a result of war, in order to guard their political caution, and not to make any radical changes which could possibly endanger the stability of the system. The stability in Spain which was achieved relatively quickly following 1975 had its political and moral price; socio-political peace had to be bought. The survival of the Francoist symbol system was a reminder that the political reform had emerged from a pact devised within the authoritarian institutions which eventually led to transition. The fact that there was no clear democratic break with Franco’s dictatorship casts a shadow on those parts of the past, named by Pierre Nora “Places of remembrance”. The transición represented a sort of honourary accord, by which compensation for the handover of the Francoist power resulted in the practise of collective amnesia. This doesn’t apply only to the transitional conservative governments of 1977–1982; but also to the Partido Socialista Obrero Español: with their facelessness the Spanish social democracy continued the loss of memory policy enforced in the Franco era. In both cases the mar- 127 Justice and Memory.indb 127 02.11.2009 13:39:11 ginalisation and oppression of history stabilised the existing power structure. A further important reason for the official repression of memories of the Civil War could have lain in the ideological consensus that drove Spanish society during the transitional years and the ensuing economic upswing to which the terms modernisation and Europe- anization can be attributed. The background to this faith in progress, the extrovert spending spree and the unbridled euphoria over Europe of that phase was a deep-seated inferiority complex particularly re- garding this progress and this Europe, from which the Franco regime originally consciously had disconnected itself (“Spain is different”) and from which it finally for political and economic reasons had been distanced. Philosophers, authors and politicians have repeatedly asked themselves about the reasons for Spain’s backwardness. The Civil War is the historical incident in this debate which reflects the backwardness of the Spanish people most clearly, the last point in a long line of abortive attempts at modernisation. The result of the Civil War, the installation of the Franco regime, led to Spain’s exclusion from the International Community of States after 1945, to ostracism and to economic boycott. Inferiority, isolation and division into victors and losers were associated in Spain with the Civil War and its consequences. Opening up the country to democ- racy, to progress and to Europe was a conscious breaking away from this unwanted past. A social cloak of silence was laid over the Civil War and even more so over the early years of the Franco era, at least in political discourse; perhaps the generations of democratisation considered it inadvisable to look back at such a conflict-laden epoch. Those remembrance ceremonies expected by many from the Government in 1986, 1989 or even 1996 were sacrificed on the altar of compensation mentality. Instead, the official parole, guaranteed equally by both sides, was: “Never again!” The Civil War was rated a “Tragedy”, a crisis which evoked the collapse of all values of communal living; the reasons and responsibilities for this tragedy were not discussed, but the con- sequences of this “tragic crisis”. Coming to terms with a dictatorship does not mean just changing the legal structure or a democratic culture of remembrance, but more dealing with the elite of the old system. If asked about cleansing 128 Justice and Memory.indb 128 02.11.2009 13:39:12 strategies relating to Spain’s handling of the elite during the tearing down of the dictatorship, the situation is downright complex as in the transitional years the new elite was recruited to a large extent from the old. As in other new democracies, the actors in the Spanish transition were forced to position themselves on the preceding dictatorship, to look into the subject of Franco’s regime and to dissolve or remodel its institutions.5 As the Spanish Democracy did not result from a break with the dictatorship, but from a pact between the new and old elite, initially the legitimising foundation of the Franco regime was not discussively deconstructed by the political officials. The pillars of the elite who supported the dictatorship in Politics, Economics, Administration, Military and Justice had no radical payoff to fear. How the elite of the dying dictatorship were dealt with was decisive for political and public life during the transition phase and beyond. Unlike other experiences of dealing with dictatorships, no questions were asked in Spain about criminal proceedings to deal with crimes committed in the dictatorship. Involvement in the Francoist system was not broached in public, but for years – basically to date – it has shaped political life and the political culture of the country. In addition to the above, a further significant reason for this noticeable reticence regarding a possible reckoning with the representatives of the old regime may have been that Franco’s regime emerged from a Civil War in which both sides had inflicted endless wrongs on each other. Dealing with the dictatorship was not possible without dealing with the Civil War at the same time; and whereas in the case of the dictatorship the responsibility for the crimes could be unequivocally assigned, this was not possible in many cases in the Civil War. Additionally at the time of transition, many of the serious cases of violation of human rights had happened a long time in the past – between 30 and 40 years – and the desire for reconciliation was much stronger than the wish for set- tlement by criminal prosecution. It was significant that representatives of the left-wing opposition pleaded most for a general amnesty. The “other” reckoning in Catalonia and the Basque country Remembrance varied in the individual parts of the country; in Cata- lonia and the Basque country in particular the discussion differed 129 Justice and Memory.indb 129 02.11.2009 13:39:12 greatly from the rest of Spain. In the case of Catalonia, the polemic conflicts and the blatantly differing perceptions of history that have poisoned the historical political climate in all government levels in recent years, have given way to widespread agreement on interpreting the recent past and the memory of oppression. Certainly there have been party political differences in Catalonia in the past – and still are. “The fact that evaluating the past does not trigger any basic conflict, points to a continuance of a particular consensus of remembrance in regard to recent history”.6 Since the beginning of the transition, the past as remembered in Catalonia differs from the rest of Spain. The differences can be seen with the Second Republic as an example: After the positive integrative role of the monarchy after 1975 had forced the left-wing parties to put their Republican demands on the back burner, the Constitution of the Second Republic (1931–1936/39) did not provide a template for creating a new post-Franco constitution but rather served only as a bad example. The situation was quite different in Catalonia. The Statute of Autonomy of 1932 was the focal point for the Catalonian fight to regain extensive self-government after Franco; this resulted in the Second Republic appearing in a more positive light in Cata- lonia than in the rest of Spain. The 14th April – the anniversary of the Proclamation of the Republic in 1931 – was an annual occasion for articulating extensive demands for autonomy. Francesc Macià, first President of the Republican Generalitat, received many honours. President Lluís Companys, later sentenced to death by Franco, be- came the central symbol of the demand for autonomy, as his name was easily associated with the memory of violent oppression under Franco and the demand for a return to self-government. The wider dynamics of civil society, which encountered a wide Catalonian anti- Franco solidarity, gave the remembrance initiative a stronger all-party importance in Catalonia than in the rest of Spain. Negative reference to the Franco regime had a largely legitimising effect in Catalonia, while in the rest of Spain the recourse to earlier Civil War or anti-Franco positions was taboo. Even though the renam- ing of Francoist streets and public squares didn’t happen as quickly and radically as some reformers would have liked, there is no doubt that memory of Franco was banned from the public realm earlier and more systematically in Catalonia than in the rest of Spain. By the end 130 Justice and Memory.indb 130 02.11.2009 13:39:12 of 1979 Francoist symbols were rarely found in Catalonia. The erec- tion of a central memorial to the Catalonian victims of the Franco regime in Fossar de la Pedrera was unique nationwide and shows the singularity of Catalonia’s memory, in the same way as the resistance to the undemocratic regime and the recourse to anti-Francoism was always a source of political legitimacy. In general there has been a greater presence of the more recent past in the Catalonian public realm in the last third of the 20th century. And in 2006/2007 the Gen- eralitat moved the topic of a historical memorial site called Memorial Democràtic forward, which had been talked about earlier but shelved. This memorial which should commemorate all victims of right- and left-wing political oppression, was an initiative not emulated in the rest of Spain for the time being. The Basque case also differs greatly from the rest of Spain.7 The collective memory of the Civil War and Francoist oppression influ- enced the Basque politicians decisively during the years of transition. The special circumstances of the Basque country at the beginning of the Civil War must be taken into account here: The dominant PNV (Partido Nacionalista Vasco) party sided with the Republicans but was rather undecided on many points, not knowing exactly which fac- tion they should join. The whole of the Basque country was divided ideologically: While the Vizcaya and Guipúzcoa provinces ultimately supported the Republicans, Alava and Navarra sided with the insur- gents. Even the Catholic Church was divided in the Basque country: While the bishops of Vitoria and Pamplona sided with the insurgents, many simple priests took the side of the Basque nationalists (which was ultimately also that of the Republicans). Obviously the Basque battalions lacked the fighting spirit when it was about anything other than the defence of Basque territory. As it was not clear how the war would end, nobody wanted to support one side or the other without reservation. Ambivalent behaviour was widespread. Leading politicians of the PNV were also prepared to form a separate peace agreement with the Francoists, in order to protect the Basque country from major oppression by Franco’s followers. All that was in vain: the provinces of Guipúzcoa and Vizcaya were branded as traitors after their defeat and suffered the loss of their ancient privileges, whilst Alava and Navarra were allowed to keep theirs. Following the defeat however, contrary to Nationalist grievance during the transition, Fran- 131 Justice and Memory.indb 131 02.11.2009 13:39:12 coist oppression was not worse in the Basque provinces than in the others. According to some authors it was less extensive. The economic and social situation was objectively better in the Basque country than in other regions; the child mortality rate was much lower than in the rest of Spain. The majority of Basques perceived Francoism far more critically and negatively than the “objective” situation warranted. In the later years of Francoism, the 1960s, oppression increased greatly in Euskadi; in this phase, it is justified to mention the above-average suffering of the Basque people. The Basque nationalist discussion about victims during the transition was obviously a transfer of experi- ences of oppression from the 1960s to earlier phases – the Civil War and early post-war years. The Basque nationalist interpretation of the Civil War was that all Basques had lost it; thus it was always justified to place the needs of their community above those of their wartime political allies. Using this argument the Basque separatists’ peace negotiations with Italy in Santoña 1937 and the peaceful handover of factories in Bilbao to the Francoists, actions that the Republicans had always branded treacherous to the Republican cause, were turned into praiseworthy virtues as they were done to defend all things Basque. As the transi- tion following 1975 was based on a policy of silence about the Civil War, the PNV was also spared any repercussions for their actions in 1936/37. Mention of the particularly hard oppression of the Basque country in the 1960s was also part of the “moral authority” (Paloma Aguilar) of Basque nationalism during the transition. At that time assassina- tions and raids, bomb explosions and street fights, general strikes and mobilisation of the populace intensified to which the regime re- sponded with a massive increase in repressive measures and repeated proclamations of a state of emergency in the Basque country. Radical Basque nationalism never viewed the Spanish Civil War as a fight between two ideological factions that separated the Basque country but as a fight for freedom against a foreign enemy – Spain – which was occupying the then united Basque country. The PNV also saw the Civil War mostly as a Basque nationalist fight against a foreign occupier. Later ETA action was only superficially directed against the Franco dictatorship; it was in fact about a lot more than that, namely independence from the hated Spanish occupation, independent of 132 Justice and Memory.indb 132 02.11.2009 13:39:12 the prevailing regime. This objective also explains the continuation of the ETA armed fight following the transition to democracy and the granting of generous autonomous rule. The PNV also spoke at their meetings during the transition about the Basque country’s continuous fight from the days of Sabino Arana to the present; the fight was always “for the Basque country” (not for example during the Civil War, “for the Republic”, as this was “Spanish”). The PNV discussion always emphasised that the nationalists’ highest goal was “defending the interests of the Basque people”. But if the Civil War was a war between Spaniards, in which the Basques were involved against their will, and only did this to defend the Basque interests as far as possible, from a Basque nationalist point of view, there is only one lesson to be learned from this: the (enforced) pact with Spanish forces only brought misery and loss of life during the war and a forty-year Spanish occupation of the Basque territory. In future the Basques would have to carefully weigh up the option of entering into a pact with Spain, as the focus of all their actions must be the preservation of the Basque culture. At the same time national- ists propagated a historically incorrect picture of a fight against the aggressors of a united Basque country; the war was not presented as a Basque Civil War – which it was – but as a united Basque defence against an external enemy. How the Basques dealt with the history of Civil War and Francoist oppression was very different from the rest of Spain: The Basque nationalists formed the picture of a united community which had had an unwanted war forced upon it in 1936. From the 1960s, radi- cal nationalists (ETA) fought violently against “Spanish occupation”, while the more moderate nationalists (PNV) presented themselves as all-round defenders of the Basque culture and used their negative experience in the Civil War as justification for distancing themselves from all things Spanish – hence their lack of consent to the democratic Constitution of 1978. According to this argument, the Basques had no responsibility for the Spanish Civil War and consequently when dealing with the past after 1975, they did not have to accept the maxim “everybody” is “guilty” (widely accepted during the transition) and therefore everybody must accept a compromise in the democratic process and follow a policy of consensus.8 133 Justice and Memory.indb 133 02.11.2009 13:39:12 Between remembering and forgetting the Spain of the Republic After the death of the dictator, the question of amnesty quickly became the major topic for the opposition and at the same time its solution became a major challenge for the government. The desire for change was crystallised into one demand for a comprehensive amnesty. As the amnesty applied to the actions of both parties and their symbolic importance for reconciliation should not be endan- gered, no unilateral recriminations were allowed. The whole political spectrum agreed to an “amnesty of all for all” which – according to the Basque nationalist Xavier Arzallus – should seal a particularly painful chapter of Spanish history and lay the foundation for a new beginning.9 If this final stroke in the politics of the past is assessed in the light of Civil War categories, the reconciliation rhetoric cannot conceal the fact that the defeated faction paid a significantly higher price for the restoration of democracy. As well as being defeated in the war and suffering the immediate consequences, there was also the added political and socio-economic discrimination of close to 40 years of dictatorship. The official recognition of the former defeated powers as an equal partner in society could not be achieved by legal means alone. It was rather more about taking the identity of the defeated Spaniards seri- ously and understanding their particular history as an integral part of, if you like, the “national historical experience”. The Republicans were accepted back into post-Francoist society on the condition that yesterday’s battles and their memory should be left behind in exile. And anyone who was not prepared to do this would ultimately remain outside the political consensus. There is still speculation today about this relinquishing of memory. Some critics consider it to be the opposition’s widespread fear of the old establishment at work, instead of a clever reticence in the interests of Freedom and Democracy. It is no coincidence that in retrospect, terms such as a “pact of silence” on the part of the elite, or even “collective amnesia” have often come to mind. On the contrary, the historian Santos Juliá clarified that the whole question of forgetting during the transition could in no way be deemed as actively maintain- ing silence about the past. In reality, the political public talked about 134 Justice and Memory.indb 134 02.11.2009 13:39:12 and remembered the past endlessly, even if this type of thinking was aimed at keeping the Civil War and its consequences out of the po- litical debate.10 What may appear today as a renunciation of memory, was ultimately a successful attempt to neutralise the explosive power of the past with rhetoric. Strategies of distancing the traumatic experiences of the 30s as far away as possible from the present were characteristic. The first step to mentally distancing oneself was accomplished by recognising the war as a “fratricidal war” and a “national tragedy”. The collective guilt thesis not only prevented the later settlement of political crimes but also the public recognition of the fact that political oppression by Franco claimed far more victims. Politically motivated murder, oppression, exile and slave labour, all in all, the tales of woe of the Republican faction were changed into a highly sensitive area of public debate, which was rarely touched on. Re-interpreting the political past under the Conservatives The election victory of the conservative Partido Popular in 1996 fol- lowed the long period of office by the Socialist government. The conservative leader, José María Aznar, led a minority government for four years followed by a government with an absolute majority for another four years. The new self-confidence of the political right which had increased proportionally to the crisis in the Socialist Party during the 90s would have consequences for political history as a whole and the recent past in particular. This was only visible in the medium term. The emphasis and the volume with which the ultra- conservatively charged interpretation of the past forced its self into the political public was new at this time. It wasn’t just a question of individual aspects but ultimately of the prerogative of interpretation of the Civil War as a whole. Camouflaged as a struggle against alleged usurpation of the history of the Civil War by the left wing, the revisionist Neo-Francoist right wing aimed its works at the totality of university-based critical social history. Formed as a reply to the official historical view of the Civil War created by countless individual studies, the revisionists came up with several titles whose general tendency was to minimise the accountabil- 135 Justice and Memory.indb 135 02.11.2009 13:39:13 ity of the insurgents, while routinely augmenting the actions of the opposition to a picture of apocalyptic horror.11 The central vanishing point was always the October revolution of 1934, the uprising which supposedly proved like no other event in the short Republican phase, the disloyalty of the left-wing to the Republic. And by predating the outbreak of the Civil War to coincide with this event, 18th July 1936 was promoted to an operation of counter-revolutionary self-defence.12 If the 50th anniversary occurred completely under the banner of official historical unity, ten years later the resuscitation of ideologi- cally distorted interpretations of the past, heralded the end of the historical-political reluctance practised during the transition. In 1999, the opposition parties of the time brought forward a col- lective bill that was to provide money for reparation payments and honour the memory of Civil War exiles 60 years after the end of the war. Besides honouring the exiles, the bill aimed for an official new evaluation of the question of war responsibility, as long as this was pointed at those responsible for the “fascist military coup against the legitimacy of the Republic”. This was a departure from the language of official Spain that divided the collective guilt evenly between the two factions. The government was not prepared to affiliate itself to this new way of thinking. The Conservatives did indeed declare that they supported the idea of honouring the “victims”. Civil War and the dictatorship on the other hand had been overcome and their origins were not to be discussed politically.13 During their second legislative period the Conservatives were con- fronted with countless petitions and initiatives from the left-wing opposition. The left wing “discovered” a new political arena in the politics of the past: At regular intervals the Socialists and the “United Left” attempted to introduce bills that demanded rehabilitation and compensation for every new group of victims of Franco’s regime that they presented. The purpose of this campaign “against forgetting”, as it was called, was really more to raise the moral pressure on the Government and force them to take the oath. But expectations of State support for civilian activities remained low, especially as the polls for the March 2004 election predicted that the Conservatives would remain in office. It is well known that the terrorist attacks in Madrid on 11th March changed political opinion in the country very quickly and thus helped the opposing Socialists 136 Justice and Memory.indb 136 02.11.2009 13:39:13 to an unexpected victory. This surprising result roused the legitimate hope of the citizen initiatives, as the PSOE, following their political commitment to the past in the preceding months, now had the moral responsibility to act. The mobilisation of collective memory at the turn of the century At the turn of the century a temporal parallelism of a suddenly grow- ing social commitment could be observed, that in cooperation with various political protagonists created a lasting change in the way the public handled Civil War memories.14 When searching for the origin on a civil level one soon encounters the local reporter from León, Emilio Silva. At the beginning of 2000 he started searching for the remains of his grandfather who had disappeared in the Civil War and with this unexpectedly started the ball rolling. An article about his intentions published in a local newspaper started an unexpected wave of offers of help. People who lived through the war got in touch, archaeologists and coroners offered to help. A local community ef- fort quickly formed under the name Asociación para la Recuperación de la Memoria Histórica (Association for the Reclamation of Historical Memory) and soon became active. In autumn of the same year – after a break of twenty years – the first of several anonymous Civil War graves was opened in Priaranza del Bierzo in the north-west of Spain. The exhumations at León had a surprising effect on the whole country: 25 years after the death of the dictator the question of the desaparecidos, the people who disappeared during the war, was brought to public notice. One of the darkest chapters of recent times was opened as a matter of course, namely that of partially spontaneous partially systematic excesses of violence and executions which had swept through the towns and villages on both sides right from the be- ginning of the war.15 Knowledge that had been kept hidden for years, of roadside graves as well as victims that had been buried in fields by the “national” faction soon became public, and quickly figures of 30,000 unidentified dead were mentioned. The movement started in León but soon spread to the whole country with the help of count- less local community efforts. The Asociación para la Recuperación de la Memoria Histórica nowadays has nine regional offices. Furthermore 137 Justice and Memory.indb 137 02.11.2009 13:39:13 innumerable local or regional associations and local community ef- forts have sprung up – mostly on the internet – that represent the interests of the victims and their families and take part in the search for the missing persons. Soon afterwards exhumations were taking place in other regions as well.16 The past was also using other channels to force itself into the public view. An almost fashionable ardour developed on the subject and the focus was extended to parts of Republican history that had hitherto been ignored. Francoist oppression continued to be the main point of interest and its inhumanity and systematic executions have since been examined with the greatest care.17 In another sense memory also played a prominent and public part. As at the turn of the century the metallic evidence of the leader cult was still present. At that point in time the Caudillo was still present in some town squares and streets either mounted on a horse or as statues and bronze busts. Less noticeable but much more widespread is the canon of names of Civil War soldiers and battlefields that can be found as street names in countless cities and villages even today. A census of the Francoist nomenclature for streets showed that after 25 years of democracy, 79% of provincial capitals placed continuity before change. It remains to be seen whether they have any politically-infectious effect nowadays. The fact remains that – outside Catalonia and the Basque country – there has been a lack of political will to eliminate these types of relics in nearly the whole country. Less revealing are the underlying motives for the individual cases. Individual communi- ties were known to have conservative majorities on their city councils that for a long time had made it a matter of great personal interest to preserve Francoist symbols. Even after seven legislative periods the statistical comparison with cities with a changing or stable Socialist majority does not paint a better picture. The length of time that symbols of Francoist rule have survived seems symptomatic of the Spanish way of dealing with the politics of the past after 1975. However, the new sensitivity to the politics of the past has moved this unresolved area of history into the limelight. Since then many different initiatives across the nation have been caught up in this demand and have sometimes even taken the destruction of Francoist symbols into their own hands. 138 Justice and Memory.indb 138 02.11.2009 13:39:13 But while the Socialists at least finally realised the need for action after decades of inaction, the Conservatives decided to switch to a systematic blocking policy during the tense climate of their second legislative period (2000–2004). Thus for example the removal of symbols of the Franco regime, something that by all standards of a democratic culture was long overdue, became the subject of new arguments and a further historical-political mandate of Rodríguez Zapatero’s government which has been in office since the spring of 2004. The polemics of the Memoria law The repeatedly announced “Law for the moral rehabilitation of the victims of the Civil War and Dictatorship”, that is colloquially known as “Law of historical memory” (Ley de Memoria Histórica), was ratified by the Council of Ministers in the summer of 2006 after it had been delayed and postponed several times. The bill envisioned that the Spanish Parliament would elect a committee of five people with a two-thirds majority. For one year the committee was to examine ap- plications and decide if the applicant was to be classified as a victim of the Franco regime and was thus entitled to financial reparation. Moral rehabilitation was to be decided case by case. The existing majority in parliament meant that the committee could only be ap- pointed with the consent of the conservative People’s Party; the Peo- ple’s Party announced at the beginning of 2007 that they categorically refused to appoint such a committee. This decision meant that the core statement of the law had no hope of being realised. Neither did the bill meet the demands of many civil organisations to declare the verdicts of the Francoist military courts and special tribunals “unjust”; Prime Minister Zapatero stated that the Spanish government could not annul the verdicts of the Franco courts in toto as such an action would mean a “breach of the legal system”. This interpretation has been rejected by well-known legal practitioners (so far without suc- cess). Furthermore the bill was to widen the circle of people entitled to pensions and reparation payments due to Francoist verdicts. And finally all symbols that glorify one of the two Civil War factions are to be removed from all public buildings. 139 Justice and Memory.indb 139 02.11.2009 13:39:13 The parliamentary debate began in the autumn of 2006. Shortly afterwards it could be foreseen that the bill in its present form would not achieve the majority vote. The Conservatives were opposed to the whole project as it allegedly tore open the rifts of the past. The parties to the left of the Socialists and the civil organisations criti- cised the draft as in their opinion it did not go far enough. It was not planned to annul the Francoist miscarriage of justice, and the financial aid for the exhumations was kept within a tight limit. The bill was mostly symbolic. To receive a majority vote in Parliament the bill was expected to undergo substantial changes as the Socialists did not have a majority. Amnesty International compared the project for this bill with a “Full Stop Law” (similar to the Argentinean law, that made the prosecution of countless human rights violations impossible) and particularly criticised the fact that the names of the informers and executioners were to remain anonymous; instead the human rights organisation demanded the appointment of a truth committee and the elimination of the mechanism that permitted impunity of those responsible. In February of 2007 the first truth committee was formed on a regional level (in Valencia); its task was to investigate Francoist oppression between 1939 and 1953.18 At the end of 2006 the PSOE gradually moved away from its bill and announced that it was going to thoroughly revise the bill so that it could gain the needed majority. One controversial aspect of the bill was the Government’s intention not to annul the verdicts of the Franco regime “for reasons of stability of the law”. Despite heavy criticism from the left wing the Government held its position but declared that it was now prepared to recognise the “injustice” of the verdicts and punishments as well as declaring the special tribunals “illegitimate”.19 The bill however was not to encompass economic retribution. In a type of “response” to the bill, the Catholic Church in Rome an- nounced in the autumn of 2007 that it was going to beatify a further 498 “martyrs” of the Spanish Civil War. This increased the number of Spaniards beatified in the 20th century to roughly 10.000. The civil and political debate of the Ley de Memoria Histórica pro- duced a bizarre side effect in 2006. Big daily papers started to run hundreds of obituaries in which friends and family of those executed in or after the Civil War described the fate of the victims in the 1930s 140 Justice and Memory.indb 140 02.11.2009 13:39:13 and 40s in graphic detail. The obituaries from the Republican side talked of the “murderous actions from the Francoist Hordes”, the “persecution, incarceration and execution for loyalty to the Republic”, of the “victims of Francoist terrorism”; even a high ranking General such as the insurrectionist Gonzalo Queipo de Llano who ordered the executions of hundreds of people in Seville is now publicly referred to as “murderer”. The Francoist obituaries mentioned “murders of the red hordes”, “martyrdom in a Tscheka” and “terrible executions by uncontrollable Marxists”.20 The obituary war was started by dis- appointed Republicans, who were dissatisfied with how the past had been dealt with in the 30 years since the death of the Dictator and finally wanted to publicly express their anger and mourning; the Neo- Franco party, which discovered that it was losing a war in public that it had believed won in 1939, reacted to these first obituaries. From this time onwards it has no longer been taboo mention the atrocities committed by either side. In the summer of 2007 everything pointed to the bill failing. It had come to a breakdown in communication between the Government and its parliamentary negotiating partners, as they could not agree on the main point – which was the problem of the illegality of the verdict of the Francoist court-martials. Literally at the last minute they came to an agreement, where the Government had to make some concessions. At the request of Convergència i Unió, the Republican violence against the clergy during the Civil War was condemned. And the Francoist court martial verdicts were finally (and across the board) declared ille- gitimate which in certain individual cases opened the door for appeals against the verdicts. On 31st October 2007, the bill was passed with the required majority in Parliament; only the conservative Partido Popular and the Catalonian left nationalists Esquerra Republicana de Catalunya continued to reject the project. In extra-parliamentarian areas several citizen initiatives and Human Rights organisations criticised the law as they saw it only as a gradual improvement in the victims’ situation. Forecast At the end of Rodríguez Zapatero’s first term of office and the begin- ning of the second the question of official culture of memory leaves an 141 Justice and Memory.indb 141 02.11.2009 13:39:13 ambivalent impression. In the first years of the first legislative period very little happened in this regard. From summer 2006 onwards the legislative initiative developed a certain dynamic and between summer and autumn 2007 it was finally possible to make some headway in this project, that the law was passed in Parliament but with substantial changes to the original draft. Despite the continuing criticism from the civil organisations it must be emphasised here that the Ley de Memoria Histórica represents a milestone in the official handling of the recent past as compared to preceding decades: During the long Franco dictatorship critical discussion of the Civil War and the terrorism of the post-war era was not possible. At the beginning of the new Democracy there was a general consensus of all political factions to abstain from explicit judgement of the recent past.21 When near the end of the 20th century as a new much younger generation of Spaniards gave memory new popularity, it soon became evident that remembering war and dictatorship in no way rested on a consensus of memory which would lead to balance in the political situation, but on the contrary would lead to a deepening of social division. Clearly a critical winding up of the historical situation in Spain is only possible at the price of aggravating political confronta- tion leading to the formation of political camps. This insight ret- rospectively confirms the political wisdom of the detested “pact of silence” of the transition as the fledgling democracy could not have withstood the type of socially polarising discourse that has been rife in Spain in recent years. Thirty years later the situation looks com- pletely different. It is widely agreed that positive impulses won from winding up the past can be expected for democratic consolidation of the collective conscience, as it creates trust in the government in- stitutions. So the hope lives on in Spain that after years of rejection, the hard-won legal compromise will have laid the foundations for an open long-term unprejudiced handling of the past. Translated from German by Tess Blundell 142 Justice and Memory.indb 142 02.11.2009 13:39:14 Notes 1 Traumatic consequences of the Civil War and the terror of the post-war era from a psychological-psychiatric viewpoint: RUIZ-VARGAS 2006. 2 See the last overview of the Historiography of the Civil War from the 1940s to date from BLANCO RODRÍGUEZ 2007. For the vicissitudes of the collective memory of the victims of the Civil War throughout the generations of war participants, the “Children of war” and the “Grandchildren of war” see LEDESMA, RODRIGO 2006. The authors highlight the varying intensity of the memory of the victims: During the Franco regime, those who „fell for Spain“, the national victims, were omnipresent in the public realm, while the Republican victims were compulsorily committed to oblivion; in the post-dictatorship democratisation phase the invis- ibility of the victims on both sides speaks volumes; since the turn of the century and the opening of anonymous mass graves, the public discussion about victims lost in the Civil War (Martyrs of Freedom), dominates public debate. 3 About the transition see BERNECKER 1997: p. 213–232, and BERNECKER, COLLADO SEIDEL 1993. 4 “Una guerra civil no es un acontecimiento conmemorable”, afirma el Gobierno. In: El País of 18.7.1986, p. 17. 5 ELSTER 2005, KENKMANN 2005. 6 BRINKMANN 2007: p. 9. The following argument is according to this text. 7 The following argument according to AGUILAR FERNÁNDEZ 1997. 8 This concerned only the reconstruction of the nationalist discussions during the transition. In politics, in the years following 1975 the PNV was much more willing to cooperate that this discussion shows. 9 For the amnesty following 1975 see AGUILAR 1996. 10 See JULIÁ 2002. See also JULIÁ 2006. The opinion of Santos Juliá, who has been challenging the “pact of silence” theory for years and always maintains that since the transition all aspects of the Civil War (including the massive oppres- sion during the war and in the post-war era) have been debated and recorded in detail, is severely criticised by ESPINOSA MAESTRE 2007, who emphatically highlights the historical forgetfulness of the transition and the failure to deal with the oppressive past. 11 The most famous revisionist is Pío MOA, whose countless works about the Civil War became bestsellers. A small sample: Contra la mentira. Guerra civil, izquierda, nacionalistas y jacobinismo, Madrid: Libroslibres, 2003; Los crímenes de la guerra civil y otras polémicas, Madrid: La Esfera, 2004; Una historia chocante. Los nacionalismos vasco y catalán en la Historia Contemporánea de España, Madrid: Encuentro, 2004; Los mitos de la guerra civil, Madrid: La Esfera, 2003. A radical reckoning with Moa is Alberto REIG TAPIA, Anti Moa, Barcelona: Ed. B, 2006; see also, the uncovering of countless myths of the Right about the Civil War, REIG TAPIA 2006. 12 As an example of many see MOA 2004. 13 HUMLEBÆK 2004: p. 161, and El País digital of 1st June 1999. 143 Justice and Memory.indb 143 02.11.2009 13:39:14 14 See the good overview of the different phases of the (missing) politics of history in the democracy by GÁLVEZ BIESCA 2006, that for the last few years mentions the individual associations “for the reclamation of history”, the historiography (on Francoist oppression) and the intercultural initiatives (governments, autono- mies). 15 For uncontrolled murder on both sides at the beginning of the Civil War and the different types of crimes see ESPINOSA MAESTRE 2006. 16 For local and regional retribution initiatives see EGIDO LEÓN 2006. 17 For more recent literature see the collective review articles of BERNECKER 2003 and 2007. For update on research on the Civil War see JULIÁ 1999. 18 Valencia lanza una Comisión de la Verdad sobre el franquismo, in El País, 10.2.2007, p. 25. 19 See El proyecto de Ley de Memoria Histórica divide al Congreso, in El País, 14.12.2006, p. 30f. See also the wording of the draft legislation in El País, 20.4.2007, p. 18. 20 See Esquelas de las dos Españas, in El País, 10.9.2006, p. 28f. 21 A good overview of the missing political past from the transition to date is pro- vided by RODRIGO 2006. Bibliography P. AGUILAR, Memoria y olvido de la Guerra Civil española, Madrid: Alianza Ed., 1996. P. AGUILAR FERNÁNDEZ, La Guerra Civil en el discurso nacionalista vasco. Memorias peculiares para un aprendizaje político diferente, Ma- drid, 1997. W. L. BERNECKER, Entre la historia y la memoria: Segunda Repú- blica, Guerra Civil española y primer franquismo, in Iberoamericana Nr. 11, 2003, p. 227–238. W. L. BERNECKER, Represión y terror en el primer franquismo, in Iberoamericana Nr. 25, 2007, p. 217–228. W. L. BERNECKER, C. COLLADO SEIDEL (eds.), Spanien nach Franco. Der Übergang von der Diktatur zur Demokratie 1975–1982. München: Oldenburg, 1993. W. L. BERNECKER, Spaniens Geschichte seit dem Bürgerkrieg, München: Beck, 1997. J. A. BLANCO RODRÍGUEZ, La historiografía de la Guerra Civil Es- pañola, in Hispania Nova. Revista de Historia Contemporánea 7, 2007 (http: //hispanianova.rediris.es). S. BRINKMANN, Katalonien und der spanische Bürgerkrieg. Geschichte und Erinnerung. Berlin: Edition Tranvía, 2007. 144 Justice and Memory.indb 144 02.11.2009 13:39:14 A. EGIDO LEÓN, La historia y la gestión de la memoria. Apuntes para un balance, in Hispania Nova. Revista de Historia Contemporánea 6, 2006 (http://hispanianova.rediris.es). J. ELSTER, Die Akten schließen. Nach dem Ende von Diktaturen, Frank- furt a. M.: Campus, 2005. F. ESPINOSA MAESTRE, De salvaciones y olvidos. Reflexiones en torno a un pasado que no puede pasar, in Hispania Nova. Revista de Historia Contemporánea 7, 2007 (http://hispanianova.rediris.es). F. ESPINOSA MAESTRE, La memoria de la represión y la lucha por su reconocimiento. (En torno a la creación de la Comisión Interministe- rial, in Hispania Nova. Revista de Historia Contemporánea 6, 2006 (http://hispanianova.rediris.es). S. GÁLVEZ BIESCA, El proceso de la recuperación de la “memoria histórica” en España: Una aproximación a los movimientos sociales por la memoria, in International Journal of Iberian Studies, vol. 19, Nr. 1, 2006, p. 25–51. C. HUMLEBÆK, Usos políticos del pasado reciente durante los años de gobierno del PP, in Historia del Presente, Nr. 3, 2004. S. JULIÁ, Echar al olvido. Memoria y amnistía en la transición, in Claves de razón práctica, Nr. 129, 2002, p. 21f. S. JULIÁ (ed.), Memoria de la Guerra y del Franquismo, Madrid: Tau- rus, 2006. S. JULIÁ (ed.), Víctimas de la guerra civil, Madrid: Ed. Temas de hoy, 1999. A. KENKMANN (ed.), Nach Kriegen und Diktaturen: Umgang mit Ver- gangenheit als internationales Problem. Bilanzen und Perspektiven für das 21. Jahrhundert. Essen: Klartext, 2005. J. L. LEDESMA and J. RODRIGO, Caídos por España, mártires de la libertad. Víctimas y conmemoración de la Guerra Civil en la España posbélica (1939–2006), in Ayer 63, 2006, p. 233–255. P. MOA, 1934: Comienza la guerra civil. El PSOE y la Ezquerra emprenden la contienda. Madrid: Ed. Áltera, 2004. Alberto REIG TAPIA, La Cruzada de 1936. Mito y memoria, Madrid: Alianza, 2006. J. RODRIGO, La Guerra Civil: “Memoria”, “Olvido”, “Recuperación” e Instrumentalización, in Hispania Nova. Revista de Historia Contem- poránea 6, 2006 (http://hispanianova.rediris.es). J. M. RUIZ-VARGAS, Trauma y memoria de la Guerra Civil y de la 145 Justice and Memory.indb 145 02.11.2009 13:39:14 dictadura franquista, in Hispania Nova. Revista de Historia Contem- poránea 6, 2006 (http: //hispanianova.rediris.es). 146 Justice and Memory.indb 146 02.11.2009 13:39:14 The Polish Debate around Fear by Jan Tomasz Gross from the Perspective of the Intermediary Discourse Analysis1 Marek Czyzewski 1. The Analogies Between the Debate Around Jan Tomasz Gross’ Fear in Po- land in 2008, and the Debate Around Daniel Goldhagen’s Hitler’s Willing Executioners in Germany in 1996. The Aim of the Analysis The Polish debate around J.T. Gross’ Fear, which took place at the be- ginning of 2008, to some extent resembles the discussion concerning Daniel Goldhagen’s Hitler’s Willing Executioners held 12 years earlier in Germany2. Despite being oftentimes criticised for its historical inaccuracy, the German edition of Goldhagen’s book turned out to be socially significant. Of immense importance were Goldhagen’s meetings with German students, some of which performed a positive therapeutic function. His book and the discussions directed society’s attention not towards the anonymous systemic-organisational aspects of the Holocaust, but towards its corporal dimension. A lot of young German readers were deeply influenced by Goldhagen’s book and as a result, an impeded “ability to mourn” was released; the term Unfähigkeit zu trauern (which may be literally translated as “the lack of ability to mourn”) was introduced by two German psychoanalysts – Alexander and Margarete Mitscherlich (1967) – with reference to the German suppression of the collective remembrance of the exter- mination of the Jews. At the same time, the opinions of German historians were mostly negative and their criticism above all focused on scientific deficien- cies, lack of Goldhagen’s own historical analyses as well as simplified and confusing explanations referring to German anti-Semitism as an allegedly basic source for the Holocaust. More importantly, the question of the author’s ethnicity became ap- parent (more so in private than in the public sphere) and the reason might be traced back to the fact that Goldhagen had been perceived as an American Jew or a Jew per se. His book, similarly to Fear, was 147 Justice and Memory.indb 147 02.11.2009 13:39:14 first published in English in the United States. Thus, the image of Goldhagen as an author was inseparably linked to the ascription of Jewish identity and it was this aspect of his socially constructed iden- tity which was made most relevant.3 Emphasising Goldhagen’s Jewish identity in most cases was not innocent and as a result the typical “category-bound activities”4 were combined with this particular ethnic category. The category of a “Jew” (an “American Jew”) implied the issues of an easy academic and/or financial career, which allegedly was to be paved by means of a simplified and accusatory interpreta- tion of the Holocaust. J.T. Gross’ Fear, referring to anti-Semitic violence on the part of Poles towards Jews after the Second World War in Poland, was to perform a therapeutic function in Polish society. Gross and his fol- lowers repeatedly emphasised this question. Discussing specific cases of violence, the book was meant to cause a restorative shock and overcome the Polish version of “the inability to mourn”. Instead, Gross’ work in Poland was received with criticism by Polish historians, who focused on the book’s historical fallacies. At the same time, the Institute of National Remembrance (being a national body) counteracted without precedence and published Marek J. Chodak- iewicz’s book, which presented Polish-Jewish postwar relations from a completely different perspective. In the public sphere, an open thematisation took place and Jan To- masz Gross had been ethnically classified as a “Jew” correlated with the “American Jewish lobby”. The assumption based on the “fact” that Gross was a “Jew” became the prism through which the book’s message was being interpreted. The most negative criticism of Gross’ Fear was based mainly on defining the author as a “Jew”, with this identity being “fixed” and simultaneously made highly relevant. In such a situation, it is extremely easy to fall into the trap of civili- sational superiority over the Polish ignorant and provincial attitude or the alleged omnipresent anti-Semitism. Such an attitude was present in the left-wing and liberal media, which felt a responsibility to sup- port and defend Gross against the nationalistic attacks. This situation shapes the background for my analysis, which does not concentrate on finding arguments in favour of any of the standpoints, but on identifying the mechanisms standing behind them. My aim is to find the source of the debate’s lack of productivity and, to a certain ex- 148 Justice and Memory.indb 148 02.11.2009 13:39:14 tent, its counter efficiency. Thus, it may turn out to be unappealing to both Gross’ opponents as well as followers. Hopefully, this analysis will manage to present the shortages of this debate and relate them to public debates in general. It should be pointed out that the debate over Fear was abundantly filled with meta-discursive elements, that is those relating not only to the book, but to the debate itself, and the participants and their motives. Classifying Gross as a “Jew” constituted a particularly problematic aspect of the meta-discursive dimension of the debate, which oftentimes took radical turns. The function of the national and conservative polemics may be described as follows: by making Gross’ ethnicity relevant, the problem raised in his book was made irrelevant. 2. Concepts Useful for the Analysis Some concepts should be introduced before the analysis is presented. Ethnicity will be viewed not as an objective fact, but as a social con- struct. Thus, it is not important whether one “is” Polish, Jewish or German, but what sort of ethnic identity is ascribed and how this ascription is being realised5. Ethnisation can be described as a specific case of “identity enforcement” (in the sense of Werner Kallmeyer). The concept of enforcement relates to various communicative practices “broadening one’s own possibilities and at the same time narrowing down someone else’s”6. In my analysis this concept applies not only to conversations but also to other genres in the overall area of com- munication, including press debates. In the case of ethnisation, the main “enforcing” function refers to identity being set as a result of rigid labeling and hence, raising its interpretive relevance (Auslegungs- relevanz – a term introduced by Alfred Schutz 1971). The concept of structures of relevance and irrelevance (Strukturen der Relevanz und Irrelevanz) leads back to the social phenomenology of Alfred Schutz. In line with this approach defining relevance belongs to the field of communication in general in the sense of hierarchy of matters treated as important and unimportant. Schutz differentiates between: thematic relevance – thematische Relevanz (this particular 149 Justice and Memory.indb 149 02.11.2009 13:39:15 “something”, not “something else” draws our attention); interpretive relevance – Auslegungsrelevanz (“something” is interpreted in a certain way); and motivational relevance – Motivationsrelevanz (we undertake certain actions with relation to “something”). In everyday life, these types of relevance are dependent on one another and none of them constitutes a dominant factor. Elaborating on the question of rel- evance, Schutz goes back to an ancient idea introduced by Carneades. A person enters a familiar, dimly lit room. In the corner, s/he notices “something new”, which draws his/her attention (thematic relevance). The object could be a coiled rope or a snake (interpretive relevance). As the man wants to sleep in the room, s/he hits the object in order to find out what it is (motivational relevance). In an interactive situa- tion, relevance is being defined, negotiated and modified as a result of mutual adjustments and corrections between the partners of the interaction. The following question arises here – how was the structure of rel- evance constructed in the debate around Fear? 3. Ethnisation of Gross and the Debate Itself as Problematic Aspects of the Meta-Discursive Utterances in the Debate around Fear With reference to the debate around Fear, Alfred Schutz’ relevance concept may be incorporated as follows: A substantial part of the debate around Fear has been arranged through a unilateral enforcement of relevance, a way of defining relevance which clearly diverges from egalitarian reciprocity and the negotiability of daily routine. A thematic relevance was pre-established throughout the debate: Fear did not cause any bewilderment. The book was anticipated and it was well-known it was going to be published in Polish – for example it is in this context that Chodakiewicz’s book was issued. Some polem- ists have been double “prepared” for Gross’ book – those who took a defensive/rejecting attitude.7 On one hand Chodakiewicz’s book was published and perceived as a counteroffensive or a counterbalance (here the defensive/rejecting role of the Institute of National Re- membrance turned out to be crucial). On the other hand, traditional anti-Semitic topoi were activated; the theme of the debate was not 150 Justice and Memory.indb 150 02.11.2009 13:39:15 remote or unfamiliar – unvertraut8 – to biased audiences; there were no such doubts as shown in the example of Carneades – one did not have to consider whether “something” was a coiled rope or a snake, one just knew it. In some media, the situation was clear from the very beginning and it was dominated by the motivational relevance – an apparent threat must be eliminated: “the Jews are attacking us” (motivational relevance enforcement). The dominance of motivational relevance unsettled a commonsense harmonisation of the three types of relevance. Motivational relevance was designated by an allegedly self-evident (“taken for granted”) interpretation (based on anti-Semitic prejudice) and with no alternatives, which were to be considered in order not to make a mistake – “it is ‘the Jews’ who are attacking us” (interpretative relevance enforcement). This structure of relevances, adapted by the defensive/rejecting camp of the debate, was based on the assump- tion that the key to an adequate reaction lies in the “fact” that Gross is a “Jew”, and that this is also his major characteristic as an author (identity enforcement – “ethnisation” of Gross and in consequence, “ethnisation” of the debate). It should be added that Polish/Jewish identities are obviously not univocal from an ethnic point of view – the Polish-Jewish decent of Gross seems to be a testimony to this phenomenon. Irrespective of that, Gross had been unequivocally labeled and this ethnic catego- risation included a mobilisation of stereotypical “category-bound activities”: “The Jew Gross” undertakes an “anti-Polish” action. From this point of view, the publication of Gross’ book gains a discrediting internal attribution, which is related to the alleged negative intentions of the author, namely those focused on material profit and the will to attack Polish society. Thus, the book’s content is made irrelevant through interpretative relevance enforcement. At the same time, only occasionally, the direction for self-action was set (the necessity to oppose the aggression forced by a member of the “Jewish lobby”) through motivational relevance enforcement. In extreme cases the author has been completely discredited – with accordance to one of the patterns of “neutralisation techniques” known as the “condemna- tion of the condemners”.9 The additional aspect seems to be of particular importance: in response to the aggressive enforcement of his identity as a “Jew”, a 151 Justice and Memory.indb 151 02.11.2009 13:39:15 defensive enforcement of Gross’ identity as a “Pole” was oftentimes applied, which in itself is a problematic issue (see below). Two Varieties of Ethnisation of Gross as a “Jew” The ethnisation of Gross as a “Jew” has been accomplished in two ways: a) “intellectual” variety (partly camouflaged) The “intellectual” variety was present in the right-wing press, which referred to Gross’ followers as the “Jewish site” of the dispute or the “Jewish circles”10. Piotr Semka refers directly to Gross’ ethnicity only once and he does so in response to the following statement by Joanna Tokarska-Bakir: “Gross wanted to shout out the whole truth about the tragedy of his people”. Note that Tokarska-Bakir has never used this particular sentence in her article11. Semka does, however, describe Gross’ defenders as the “Jewish site” and the “Jewish circles” indicating the fact that “it is the Jews’ right to analyse the purity of intentions relating to such criticism [of Gross]. But it is the critics’ right to demand a fair treatment of these objections and to oppose their interpretations resulting from fear of recognising Polish crimes. Gross’ critics want to face their nation’s guilt, without the need to bend the facts and terminate the discussion on the new occupying authorities being supported by some Polish Jews.”12 It should be noticed here that it is with reference to Semka’s article that Seweryn Blumsztajn, a journalist from Gross’ defender, the left- liberal Gazeta Wyborcza, performs the act of Gross’ “ethnisation” as a “Pole”.13 Blumsztajn refers to Gross’ Polish descent, that is having a Polish Catholic mother; being politically active before the emigration in 1968, and claims that the question posed by Jan Gross does not read: Why did you do it to us?, but How could we have done it? Blumsztajn reverses the situation (here, analytical categories will be applied, which are obviously not used by Blumsztajn in his commentary): according to him, Gross does not follow a (Jewish) ethnocentrism (characterised by loyalty towards one’s own alleged ethnic group) as implied by Semka, 152 Justice and Memory.indb 152 02.11.2009 13:39:15 but a (Polish self-critical) “ex-centricity”.14 As Blumsztajn notes, Gross’ historical publications motivated by the Polish self-criticism should contribute to the collective therapy of the Polish society. The original proponents of this attitude, Alexander and Margarete Mitscherlich (1967), discussed the problem of the widespread Ger- man inability to grieve and mourn over the Holocaust. The authors claimed that in order to make a further step in the development of a collective consciousness, it is necessary to mourn over the past inso- far that it is a burden suppressed from consciousness. A sociological perspective on this issue has been proposed by Fritz Schütze (1990) in his concept of fading out – relating to the act of dismissing incon- venient facts from consciousness. Marek Beylin, the commentator from Gazeta Wyborcza, argued according to this very spirit in “Jews, Poles, Fear”.15 It should be stressed that the bona-fide “anti-anti-Semitism” is to some extent problematic as it does not question the practices of ethnisation in general but instead introduces a “counter-ethnisation” (“Gross is a Pole”) while not questioning the confusing and harmful ethnisation of the fragile and intricate subject of Polish-Jewish identity. However, despite the objections raised, consideration of the social definition of ethnic affinity is sometimes needed. It enables the dif- ferentiation between ethnocentrism and ex-centricity; for example in the public debate, it is important whether unemployment as a source of Nazism is considered from the point of view of German self-justification or Polish understanding, or whether the source of Islamic terrorism in response to the imperialistic attitude of the U.S. is interpreted by an Arabian or an American journalist. Such issues, however, should be differentiated from the scenario in which members of a political debate discredit another member via the enforcement of ethnic identity. b) severe and disgraceful variety A letter by the local deputy Mr X (the real name has been concealed), was published in a nationalistic and Catholic Polish newspaper.16 Ad- dressed to the public prosecutor’s office in Torun, it is permeated with anti-Semitic rhetoric, for example “in his hypocritical book, Fear: Anti-Semitism in Poland after the War. The History of Moral Collapse, the 153 Justice and Memory.indb 153 02.11.2009 13:39:15 Jew Jan Tomasz Gross commits two crimes [. . .]. The Jew J.T. Gross should rather deal with . . .” This rhetoric has some fatal connotations. First of all: the word “Jew” put in front of a surname performs a stigmatising function.17 Secondly, the assertion “Jews lie” combines two stereotypical constructions: a generalised category of a “Jew” and the type of problematic behav- ior allegedly characteristic of a “Jew” – “lying” as a “category-bound activity”. It is worth bearing in mind the long history of anti-Semitic topos referring to allegedly Jewish inclination towards rejecting the truth and disseminating lies. A slogan “Der Jude lügt” used by the Nazi propaganda is one example of this tradition. It should be noticed here that the question of “Jewish lies” has been exploited for years by Jerzy Robert Nowak.18 Thirdly, the formulation “The Jew J.T. Gross” defames Gross as the allegedly prototypical Jew. Other harsh examples of severe ethnisation include an amalgama- tion of Gross as a person with “them” as a collective source of threat: “Jews”, “zydki” (a Polish diminutive form for the word “Jews”, which has disgraceful and belittling connotations): – statements used by Professor Wolniewicz at the meeting in the Jesuit Order basilica in Cracow19: “They are attacking us, so we have to defend ourselves”, lectured Professor Bogusław Wolniewicz. “Who is attacking us? The Jews” – this statement caused a thunderous applause and approval. “You did not let me finish. It was not the right answer”, added Wolniewicz. The puzzled audience looked around hesitantly. Luckily for them, the speaker elaborated on his point claiming that the source of evil lay within a certain group of the American Jews or “those from Brooklyn” as Wolniewicz referred to them. Not only the Polish Jews but the Poles themselves are willing to endear themselves to the Jewish lobby. “Poland was always full of renegades!” exclaimed Wolniewicz. The audience once again applauded loudly. – posts/comments on the Internet, for example “A fierce protest against the Jews [zydki] that used to spit on us”.20 As far as radical polemics addressed to Gross are concerned, some appeals relating to the need of counteraction were issued to the au- thorities21: 154 Justice and Memory.indb 154 02.11.2009 13:39:15 The Ministry of Foreign Affairs should immediately publish reports based on the memories of the “honest Jews”, accounting for an enormous commitment on the part of Poles, who would save the Jews during the war, said Professor Jerzy Robert Nowak [. . .]. The historian emphasised the need for such a response to J.T. Gross’ Fear, which is full of lies, and of highly selective and negative content. Ethnisation amongst the recipients of Fear Another dimension of the debate’s ethnisation relates to the following two varieties of ethnisation amongst the recipients of Fear: An aggressive “self-ethnisation” – emphasis on one’s own ethnic- ity with accordance to the following pattern: “As a Pole, I object”; For example the aforementioned deputy, X, declares: “As a Pole, I address the District Public Prosecutor’s Office. . .“, Nasz Dziennik, 12.02.2008. A reactive “self-ethnisation”, a procedure similar to the previous one, but having a different function, with accordance to the follow- ing pattern: “As a Pole, I do not feel offended”; for example Ludwik Stomma in his column “Strach odrzucony” [“Fear Rejected”] in the left-liberal weekly Polityka, 2.02.2008: Let us go back to the hateful critic of his [Gross’] work, which may not have been taken seriously, but for the thoughtless statement declared by Cardinal Stanislaw Dziwisz. What we hear in the statement is an echo of the arguments (expressed involuntarily as I presume) belonging to the darkest circles of the chauvinistic neo-nationalistic movement [Pol. “neoendecja”22]: “Poles have been offended”, “Gross insults the Poles”. I am a Pole myself, which cannot be denied even by manipulators, professional dis- praisers or pseudo-historians from the Institute of National Remembrance. Basia and a number of friends of mine are Poles alike. And none of them felt slandered by Gross. Neither Basia nor myself feel defamed or battered. Another example is somewhat isolated and therefore even more valuable for analysis, as it questions the procedures making a Jewish identity relevant and unequivocal – “then” (after the Second World War) and “now” (during the debate). The surprisingly subtle article “Bez Strachu” [“Withour Fear”] by Jerzy Urban was published in his weekly magazine Nie [No], which often has a vulgar and scandalous style (Nie, 24.01.2008). The author emphasises the complexity of the relations between Poles and Jews and their oftentimes pathological 155 Justice and Memory.indb 155 02.11.2009 13:39:16 and aggressive disclosure, that is he identifies the enforcement of identity relating to the current debate and to the postwar reality as a problem. Urban’s message is as follows – the current grotesque and destructive “ethnisation” of the debate has its ominous, historical anti-type in the post-war pathological “ethnisation” of social reality (the phenomenon was threatening in a literal, corporal sense), and people who refer to Gross as a Jew do not go beyond the moral cog- nition present in the past “ethnisation” of reality. Urban’s sarcastic and pungent style also draws the reader’s attention. He problematises the “ethnisation” relating to the current public debate, including the following categories: “post-Jew” and “Grossist”: Every single neonationalist [“postendecki nacjonalista”] would let himself/herself be chopped into pieces, defending the accuracy of Jerzy Robert Nowak’s or Krzysztof Kąkolewski’s arguments, relating to the alleged fact that it was the Jews themselves (to Bishop Kaczmarek’s great distress) who committed a self-murder in Kielce in 194623. Anyone having a different attitude towards that event slanders the Polish nation, which has to withstand the pain-inflicting attacks. It is also assumed that cosmopolitan liberals, atheists, filo-Semites, post-Jews – or simply friends and edi- tors of Gazeta Wyborcza – will be going down on Gross. As a non-Aryan Pole and a fanatical post-communist, the enemy of God and the Polish Pope, I am a Grossist – quite naturally. Therefore, I am obliged to be thrilled by Fear, irrespective of its content. The conclusion is simple: in our beloved Poland, people with a distinct genealogical and political identity do not need to read books. Urban gives a dramatic autobiographic testimony of what “ethnisa- tion” meant in a post-war reality (a ”Polish Jew” and a “post-Jew” – these categories being objects of a schematic “ethnisation”): I don’t know how Gross describes the post-war reality, but indeed, after the war Jews and Polish Jews lived in fear. […] It was winter 1946/1947. I was traveling with my parents by car from Jelenia Góra. The Germans were put on carts together with their belongings and dropped by a train station – the same picture in Budzanow; indif- ference also identical. We were going from Jelenia Góra to Łódz. There was night. Our car was stopped by the partisans. Eagles with crowns were glittering24. Crown on their hats equalled fear in the car. They asked for the documents and saluted: “It’s all right. We’re sorry. We are looking for communists and Jews”. How many of these post-Jews dressed in security forces uniforms and mistreating the heroes of the underground, were killing their own fear? The two types of ethnisation (as a “Jew” and a “Pole”) and two types of self-ethnisation amongst the readers, correspond to the two main 156 Justice and Memory.indb 156 02.11.2009 13:39:16 schematic patterns of media reception relating to the book’s message: “agitated” (by the book) and “indignant” (with the book). Other op- tions were not as readable and their presence was limited. The debates on Polish and Jewish issues are clichéd, which makes them even more predictable. This aspect is emphasised in the debates related to Jedwabne and Fear. In both cases, a dichotomy of stand- points can be observed: on one hand an affirmative attitude towards Gross’ texts, and towards a “reworking” of the past, and on the other, a rejecting and defensive one following Andrzej Paczkowski’s termi- nology. Schematisation and polarisation are particularly strong with reference to Polish/Jewish debates, and they also make up a wider range of Polish public debates.25 4. Further Aspects of the Meta-Discursive Features of the Debate around Fear The lack of a meta-discursive dimension of discourse may be as detri- mental as its abundance. “Ethnisation” of the debate relating to Fear turns out to be a particularly problematic aspect of the superfluous meta-discursive dimension of the debate. “Personalisation” of this debate, in fact, related to a radical depersonalisation of Gross as an individual. The severe form of “ethnisation” appearing mainly in Nasz Dzien- nik reactivated clichéd anti-Semitic topoi, which have been known for hundreds of years: the alleged Jewish irreconcilability, self-interest (in its new version related to the so-called Holocaust Industry), infamy and ingratitude (including a deliberate defaming of the image of Poland), perfidy, lack of dignity, rejecting the truth and disseminating lies, a worldwide conspiracy and power, and finally the tendency to relativise their own guilt. What is more, a topos of Judeo-communism with a considerably shorter history (relating to the alleged close con- nections between Jews and communism; Pol. “zydokomuna”), became also apparent.26 With reference to these topoi, a collective appeal to defense against danger was issued. Many parts of the debate around Fear were filled with phenomena not only belonging to the wider discourse of hostility, including a variety of aggressive linguistic expressions directed towards different 157 Justice and Memory.indb 157 02.11.2009 13:39:16 groups, for example political ones, but also to its particular dimen- sion – hate speech.27 A large number of meta-discursive statements (a prominent char- acteristic of the debate on Fear) hindered the debate. Mostly, because numerous statements made by both sides of the dispute (two of the key protagonists being Gross’ fierce opponent, Jerzy Robert Nowak and Gross’s advocate, Joanna Tokarska-Bakir, toute proportion gardée), although allegedly unbiased, in reality turned out to be prejudiced (either anti-Semitic or “anti-anti-Semitic”), which further deepened the polarisation. The opinions of Jan Zaryn, the then director of the academic- educational department in the Institute of National Remembrance, expressed in a Catholic program Mi ędzy niebem a ziemią [Between Heaven and Hell]28 should be emphasised here. Roman Indrzejcz- ak, a Catholic priest and a chaplain of President Lech Kaczynski, called on Poles to be self-critical and to reconsider the role of the Church. In such a situation, a ruthless critique of Gross performed by Zaryn (“this disgraceful book should be disposed of”, “a literary boorishness”) might have had a grotesque effect. It was Indrzejczak who played a mediating role between Gross and society. Zaryn, on the other hand, contributed to its polarisation. The debate oftentimes included arguments relating to its unproduc- tiveness and predictability – for example the polarising effect of the debate was stated already at the beginning of the debate in an article “Strach nie przesłoni prawdy” [“Fear Will Not Obscure The Truth”] by Krzysztof Ogiolda in Nowa Trybuna Opolska from 11.01.2008 and renewed in a summarising article “Strach, gniew, debata” [“Fear, An- ger, Debate”], Teresa Bogucka in Gazeta Wyborcza from 23.02.2008. Numerous signals also highlighted the primitiveness of the debate as well as its harmfulness and counter-productivity. The responsibility for the state of affairs was ascribed in many dif- ferent ways: a) “Guilt” is ascribed to Gross and his followers (right-wing national- istic and Catholic attitude): – “Strach cofnął dialog o całą epokę” [“Fear Moved the Debate to the Previous Epoch”], Piotr Semka, Rzeczpopolita, 16.01.2008; 158 Justice and Memory.indb 158 02.11.2009 13:39:16 – “Strach utrwali stereotyp o polskich obozach koncentracyjnych” [“Fear Will Consolidate the Stereotypes on Polish Death Camps”], Marek J. Chodakiewicz, Super Express, 2.01.2008; – “Odwaga kardynała Dziwisza” [“The Courage of Cardinal Dziwisz”], Tomasz Terlikowski, Rzeczpospolita, 18.01.2008. b) “Guilt” is ascribed to Gross’ opponents as well as to social con- sciousness, and more specifically to negligence of “Aufarbeitung der Vergangeheit” that is “coming to terms with the past”, in accordance with Adorno’s concept (left-wing and liberal standpoint): – “Strach w Polsce” [“Fear in Poland”], Joanna Tokarska-Bakir, Gazeta Wyborcza, 12.01.2008 – “Strach przed ‘Strachem’” [“Fear against Fear”], Tomasz Wisniewski, Kurier Poranny, 7.03.2008 (the summary of the debate; its defici- encies lie in “own blame and the sin of omission”). Taking into account this attitude, a paradoxical conclusion might be drawn: attempts to correct historical negligence may worsen the situation to an even greater extent, thus it may be necessary to change the methods intended to influence society.29 c) The situation resembles a trap, which cannot be escaped (a left- wing radical view): – “W pułapce antysemityzmu” [“In the Trap of Anti-Semitism”], Adam Budzynski, Trybuna, 16.01.2008; – “Bez Strachu” [“Without Fear”], Jerzy Urban, Nie, 24.01.2008. The attempts to question ethnisation, put into practice “then” (after the war) as well as “now” (during the debate), took place very rarely. An insightful example referring to this issue was discussed earlier in this paper: “Without Fear”, Jerzy Urban, Nie, 24.01.2008. In the debate around Fear, a clear polarisation between two oppos- ing standpoints took place: the one pole applying the discourse of anti-Semitic hate speech and the other (“anti-anti-Semitic”) refuting anti-Semitic arguments by means of the discourse of hostility. At the same time, there was a considerable lack of intermediary work aiming at an intermediation of standpoints.30 Meta-discursive state- ments were, by definition, double and multi-voiced, in the sense of 159 Justice and Memory.indb 159 02.11.2009 13:39:17 Michail Bakhtin, because they abounded in references to somebody else’s utterances. Nevertheless they most often turned out to be of a demonstrably one-sided orientation, since the utterances referred to were transformed in a mocking way, disregarding the heteroglossia of different grounds.31 A variety of grounds were also missing, although some exceptions to the rule did occur, for example two programs with Andrzej Paczkowski (“Radio Channel III Club”, Radio Chan- nel III, 15.01.2008; and “Fear”, a debate in TVN24, 17.01.2008), in which he attempted at a intermediary work between Gross and Polish society. Ireneusz Krzeminski demonstrated a similar skill while be- ing interviewed by Kamila Baranowska.32 Pawel Machcewicz, in turn, conducted an academic and impartial meta-analysis of Gross’ work (“Odcienie czerni” [“The Shades of Black”], Tygodnik Powszechny, 13.01.2008). 5. Conclusions The concept of intermediary work, here related to the debate around Fear but also applicable to other public debates, is not an artificial academic idea. It is the participants of various controversies and disputes who know the practical application of the term and realise the intermediary work, although the term is not being used per se. An intermediary discourse analysis may be applied with reference to Alfred Schutz’ thesis on common sense and scientific constructs, where constructs used in social sciences are always of the “second de- gree”, which are built upon the constructs of the first degree “made by the actors on the social scene”.33 Arguably, with respect to such a research attitude one should seek an intermediation in different dimensions of the analysis. However, uncritical and unconditional support in favor of any side of the debate should be avoided in this case. The social mission of the intermediary discourse analysis does not contribute to taking sides, but rather to the improvement of so- cial debates in general. As far as research methodology is concerned, the intermediary discourse analysis locates itself between an ethno methodological Conversation Analysis (CA) and a Critical Discourse Analysis (CDA), avoiding the programmatic political indifference of the former, and the programmatic commitments of the latter. 160 Justice and Memory.indb 160 02.11.2009 13:39:17 With reference to both social engagement and methodological orientation, the following sociological meta-perspective proposed by Karl Mannheim34 seems to be informative: The crisis in thought is not a crisis affecting merely a single intellectual position, but a crisis of a whole world which has reached a certain stage in its intellectual development. To see more clearly the confusion into which our social and intel- lectual life has fallen represents an enrichment rather than a loss. That reason can penetrate more profoundly into its own structure is not a sign of intellectual bankruptcy. Nor it is to be regarded as intellectual incompetence on our part when an extraordinary broadening of our perspective necessitates a thorough-going revi- sion of our fundamental concepts. Thought is a process determined by actual social forces, continually questioning its findings and correcting its procedure. (It would be fatal on that account to refuse to recognize, because of sheer timidity, what has already become clear.) The perspective of “intermediary” discourse analysis not only empha- sises the need for distance as far as the “agitated” and “indignant” attitudes towards Fear are concerned, it also focuses on the deficien- cies present in the debate, and relates to the detrimental dynamics of polarised views. The “intermediary” discourse analysis highlights the need to apply “intermediary work” with reference to the analysed controversy and to other existing debates. It encourages the devel- opment of a distanced approach towards Fear itself and towards the communicational strategy used by its author and with reference to the public presence of “strong” standpoints supporting other just causes. Fear did not invite public deliberation on Polish anti-Semitism, but was a conscious act of shock therapy, applied by the author. However, despite the assumptions of shock therapy, but in accordance with the rules of opinion formation related to controversial topics, the book’s reception did not result in a revaluation of the Polish collective re- membrance. On the contrary, Gross’ work had a polarising effect on its readers. On one hand, it further convinced those who already had been “convinced” about Polish self-criticism. On the other, it was received with resistance and reluctance on the part of the follow- ers of the defensive attitude. While the first group was and still is a minority, the latter one always used to and persists to be a majority. A similar situation takes place with reference to scientific texts corresponding to Critical Discourse Analysis as well as films and 161 Justice and Memory.indb 161 02.11.2009 13:39:17 other anti-racist or “anti-anti-Semitic” artistic means of expression. All of them, as may be presumed, convince the already “convinced”, and the prejudiced – despite the authors’ best intentions – are still subject to indifference or they might even deepen their prejudice. Possibly, reactions in accordance with intent occur only amongst the indecisive readers. Without further research on the productivity and counter-productivity of the anti-racist and “anti-anti-Semitic” mes- sages, it is extremely difficult to reach an unambiguous conclusion. However, it should be mentioned that the results of research on the reception of “anti-anti-Semitic” and anti-racist messages might lead to a reconsideration of “anti-anti-Semitic” and anti-racist strategies. Hypothetically, it is worth considering what would have to happen in order for Fear to have the opportunity to cause changes in the Polish collective remembrance. For this purpose, it would be useful to refer to the “spiral of silence”, a concept used in public opinion research.35 The concept has been subject to numerous scientific and political controversies, which are not relevant in this context. To put it briefly, the mechanism of the “spiral of silence” relates to the fact that an allegedly minority-oriented opinion (in fact supported by the majority), under the conforming pressure of the media, indeed becomes supported by the minority only because its followers change their minds in fear of isolation. Thus, an opinion initially supported by the minority, but depicted otherwise by the media (that is as al- legedly supported by the majority), may become that of the actual majority. With reference to Fear in Poland, the “spiral of silence” was not activated; an anti-Grossist attitude was supported by the majority and never ceased being popular, whereas a pro-Grossist approach was and still is supported by the minority. The reasons for this situation were many. First of all, although the pro-Grossist attitude was highly supported by the liberal left-wing media, Gross’ opponents never experienced the fear of isolation. On the contrary, it was the anti- Grossist approach (against the pro-Grossist one, allegedly imposed by a superior power), which consolidated them in terms of solidarity with a wider “imagined community”. Secondly, the pressure exerted by the media was not consistent. A huge sector supported the more or less anti-Grossist views and in doing so, strengthened the majori- ty’s opinion. In other words, Gross’ opponents did not fit into the 162 Justice and Memory.indb 162 02.11.2009 13:39:17 requirements of political correctness. What is more, they rejected the pro-Grossist attitude, just because it became the manifestation of political correctness, and in return made use of a typical repertoire of the ethnisation of the debate and Gross himself. One of the ways to change public opinion could have been achieved by the application of the “spiral of silence”, which would have been more than beneficiary in those circumstances. However, in the harsh conditions of the debate, Gross needed the support of influential leaders and public opinion centers, which could have initiated the in- termediary work between Gross and society. As previously mentioned, such attempts, although extremely valuable, had been unfortunately very rare. Another way of changing the negative attitude was for Gross to refrain from introducing shock therapy and what followed, the po- larisation of public opinion. To achieve this, he would have had to (at least partially) demonstrate the intermediary work himself, at the same time emphasising the diverse perspectives of the participants to historical events. It should be noticed here that this was exactly what Gross had already done once in his previous book Neighbors. Apart from focusing on Polish anti-Semitism (accusing internal at- tribution), Gross also carried out a significant sociological analysis of social anomie caused by war (understanding external attribution). However, with relation to the debate on Neighbors, the second concept was not adequately discerned and recognised. Gross was reproached – erroneously and unjustly – for focusing solely on the causative role of Polish anti-Semitism associated with the manslaughter in Jedwabne. A selective reception of Neighbors could have discouraged Gross from cultivating the multilateral perspective in Fear. Insofar that this was the case, it was not an advantageous solution. In the light of the experi- ence gained from the debate on Neighbors, Fear could have induced greater effort toward the acceptance of the multiple perspectives of the parties involved. In such a case, the chances of activating the spiral of silence would have been at least considered (although taking into account other circumstances, it still would have been uncertain), and Fear’s advocates would have had a stronger argument as defining the book as just a gesture of despair. 163 Justice and Memory.indb 163 02.11.2009 13:39:17 Notes 1 This article is based on a German paper entitled “Der polnische Streit um Jan Tomasz Gross’ Strach aus ‘vermittelnder’ diskursanalytischer Perspektive” which was presented at the conference “GlobE 2008, Critical Discourse Analysis and Global Media”, Warsaw, 18–20. September 2008. The German paper is forth- coming in: A. DUSZAK, J. HOUSE (Eds.), Proceedings of the 4th GlobE Conference, Warsaw. 2 Gross’ book was first published in the United States (GROSS 2006) and only then issued in Poland (GROSS 2008). The sequence of publications in Goldhagen’s case was similar: the original English version was followed by its German coun- terpart (GOLDHAGEN 1996a and 1996b). 3 in the sense of Alfred SCHUTZ 1971. 4 in the sense of Harvey SACKS 1992. 5 Roger BRUBAKER (2004) criticises not only a substantial understanding of so- cial groups (nations included) and collective attributes (for example relating to a “national character”), which have been previously questioned by the sociological analyses of collective (national) identity, but also – most importantly – he scruti- nises the “identitarian sociology”, which in the meantime has become prevalent. Instead, he proposes a radical analysis of methods and ways for identity ascrip- tion. 6 KALLMEYER, SCHMITT 1996: p. 21. 7 The following terms were introduced by Andrzej Paczkowski (2001) with refer- ence to the debate on Jedwabne: “defensive attitude”, including the “rejecting defensive attitude”, and the opposing “affirmative attitude”. 8 See: Schutz. 9 SYKES, MATZA 1957. 10 see: the article by Piotr SEMKA “Strach cofnął dialog o całą epokę” [“Fear Moved the Dialog to the Previous Epoch”], Rzeczpospolita, 16.01.2008. 11 „Strach w Polsce” [“Fear in Poland”] Gazeta Wyborcza, 12.01.2008. 12 A typical “defensive” allusion to the participation of Jews in the post-war com- munist regime in Poland. 13 „Polski głos Grossa” [“Gross’ Polish Say”], Seweryn BLUMSZTAJN, Gazeta Wyborcza, 19.01.2008. 14 The categories of “ethnocentrism” and “ex-centricity” (the term adopted from Helmuth Plessner) are elucidated here as opposing argumentative strategies referring to problematic behaviors manifested by members of the own and the other group. In a polarised debate, problematic behaviors (for example related to crime, violence or demoralisation symptoms) may be explained by means of (low) internal motives (such as attitudes, inclinations, invariable tendencies) or external circumstances (such as political, economic or social processes). The first case refers to the (accusatory) internal attribution, while the latter one to the (justifying or at least “understanding”) external attribution. Ethnocentrism may be perceived twofold, as relating to: members of its own group, manifesting problematic behaviors (the application of justifying or “understanding” exter- 164 Justice and Memory.indb 164 02.11.2009 13:39:18 nal attribution – “well, the circumstances were just unfavorable”) or members of the other group (the application of accusatory internal attribution – “this is who they are”). Ex-centricity stands in opposition to ethnocentrism and consists in an inverse double measure: here, the accusatory (and self-critical) attitude is applied to the problematic behaviors of the members of the own group (“let’s face it, this is who we are”) and the justifying, sympathetic one to the problematic behaviors of the members of the other group (“they have to be understood; such were the circumstances”). For more information on the application of these and other argumentative strategies in public debates, see: CZYZEWSKI 2005. 15 Gazeta Wyborcza, 12.01.2008. 16 Nasz Dziennik 12.02.2008. 17 Cf. Teun van Dijk’s research on racist discourse in the press, relating to seem- ingly redundant indications towards the ethnic identity of the perpetrator (so called overcompleteness), pointing to a latent account on the reasons for which a certain person committed a crime (VAN DIJK 1991: 185-187); in such contexts the emphasis may be put on foreign surnames. 18 See: “100 kłamstw J.T. Grossa” oraz “Nowe kłamstwa Grossa” [“100 Lies by J.T. Gross” and “New Lies by Gross”]. 19 “Zydzi nas atakują! Trzeba się bronic” [“The Jews are attacking us! We have to defend ourselves”], a report by Małgorzata I. NIEMCZYNSKA, Gazeta Wyborcza, 11.02.2008. 20 Onet.pl 14.02.2008. 21 “Dajmy odpór Grossowi” [“Let’s Resist Gross”], Zenon Baranowski, Nasz Dziennik, 12.02.2008 – an account of the meeting with Jerzy Robert Nowak in a theological seminary in Kielce. 22 “Neoendecja” is an ironic description of the present nationalist and conservative orientation in Poland, which – as the description suggests – should be perceived as a revitalisation of the National Democracy, a Polish pre-war nationalist right- wing political movement. 23 The ironic Polish designation – postendecki – originates from the adjective endecki, which refers to National Democracy (see the former footnote). Radiomaryjny (Pol.) is an ironic adjective relating to a nationalist and Catholic radio station – Radio Maryja (the name refers to St. Mary). Jerzy Robert Nowak and Krzysztof Kąkolewski, both commentators working for Radio Maryja, are associated with controversial interpretations of the Kielce pogrom (1946). Bishop Kaczmarek, who used to be a bishop of Kielce after the WW II, applied anti-Semitic patterns of argumentation to justify the sources of the Kielce pogrom. 24 The partisans were wearing hats with Polish national emblems twinkling in the dark. 25 CZYZEWSKI 2001 and 2008. 26 In referring to Joanna Tomczyk, who analysed anti-semitic topoi (appearing in Nasz Dziennik with reference to the debate on Fear) as part of the project on the discourse of hostility. See: an unpublished report by Marek CZYZEWSKI et al. 2008. The majority of the topoi were analysed in numerous publications by Ruth Wodak and her research team relating to post-war anti-Semitism in Austria. See: 165 Justice and Memory.indb 165 02.11.2009 13:39:18 Ruth WODAK et al. (1990a); see also the chapter on “Kategorien” in WODAK et al. (1990b: 86-111). The research results of Ruth Wodak et al. constituted a crucial reference point in our own project. 27 For more information on various types of hostility discourse and hate speech within hostility discourse, see: CZYZEWSKI et al. 2008. 28 broadcasted on Polish Television Channel 1 – TVP 1 – 20.01.2008. 29 see: Paczkowski’s statements in Radio Channel III Club [Pol. Klub Trojki], Polish Radio Channel III, 15.01.2008. 30 For more information on the concept of intermediary work (Vermittlungsarbeit) and its categories, see: CZYZEWSKI 2005. 31 BAKHTIN 1971. 32 “Ksiązka Grossa blokuje dialog” [“Gross’ Book Inhibits the Dialog”], Rzeczpos- polita, 6.02.2008. 33 SCHUTZ 1973: p. 6. 34 1936: pp. 93–94. 35 NOELLE-NEUMANN 1984. Bibliography M. BAKHTIN, Problems of Dostojevskij’s Poetics, Manchester: Manches- ter University Press, 1971. R. BRUBAKER, Ethnicity without Groups, Cambridge MA: Harvard University Press, 2004. M. J. CHODAKIEWICZ, Po Zagladzie.[After Holocaust], Warszawa: IPN (Institute of National Remembrance), 2008. M. CZYZEWSKI, Algorytmizacja debat publicznych. Główne tendencje i ich społeczno-kulturowe uwarunkowania. [Algorithmisation of Public Debates: Main Tendencies and its Socio-Cultural Conditioning], in J. BRALCZYK (Ed.), Zmiany w publicznych zwyczajach językowych [Changes in Public Language Use], Warsaw: Polish Language Coun- cil, 2001, pp. 14–22. M. CZYZEWSKI, Debata na temat Jedwabnego oraz spór o ‘polityk ę historyczn ą’ z punktu widzenia analizy dyskursu publicznego. [Debate on Jedwabne and a Dispute on Historical Politics Assessed from the Point of View of Public Discourse Analysis], in S. M. NOWINOWSKI, J. POMORSKI, R. STOBIECKI (Eds.), Pamięc i polityka historyczna. Doswiadczenia Polski i jej s ąsiadów [Memory and Historical Politics. Experiences of Poland and its Neighbors], Łódz: IPN (Institute of National Remembrance), 2008, pp. 117–140. 166 Justice and Memory.indb 166 02.11.2009 13:39:18 M. CZYZEWSKI, Öffentliche Kommunikation und Rechtsextremismus, Łódz: University of Łódz Press, 2005. M. CZYZEWSKI, M. DOMINIAK, J. SŁODKOWSKI, P. SZRAJBER, M. TOMCZAK, J. TOMCZYK, Język wrogosci [Discourse of Hostility], Łódz–Warszawa (unpublished research report), 2008. D. GOLDHAGEN, Hitler’s Willing Executioners. Ordinary Germans and the Holocaust, New York: Random House, 1996a. D. GOLDHAGEN, Hitlers willige Vollstrecker. Ganz gewöhnliche Deutsche und der Holocaust, Munich: Siedler, 1996b. J. T. GROSS, Sąsiedzi. Historia zagłady zydowskiego miasteczka. [Neighbors. A History of the Extermination of a Jewish Town], Sejny: Pogranicze, 2000. J. T. GROSS, Fear. Anti-Semitism in Poland after Auschwitz. An Essay in Historical Interpretation. New York: Random House, 2006. J. T. GROSS, Strach. Antysemityzm w Polsce tuz po wojnie. Historia moral- nej zapasci. [Fear. Anti-Semitism in Poland after the War. The History of Moral Collapse], Kraków: Znak, 2008. W. KALLMEYER, R. SCHMITT, Forcieren oder: Die verschärfte Gangart. Zur Analyse von Kooperationsformen im Gespräch, in W. KALLMEYER (Ed.), Gesprächsrhetorik. Rhetorische Verfahren im Gesprächsprozess, Tübingen: Narr., 1996, pp. 19–118. K. MANNHEIM, Ideology and Utopia, London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co., 1936. A. MITSCHERLICH, M. MITSCHERLICH, Die Unfähigkeit zu trau- ern. Grundlagen kollektiven Verhaltens, Munich: Piper, 1967. E. NOELLE-NEUMANN, Die Schweigespirale. Die öffentliche Meinung, unsere soziale Haut, Munich: Piper, 1984. A. PACZKOWSKI, Debata wokół „Sąsiadów”: próba wstępnej typologii. [The Debate around “Neighbors”: An Attempt at an Introductory Typology], in Rzeczpospolita, 24–25.03. 2001. H. SACKS, Lectures on Conversation, Vol. 1, Oxford: Blackwell, 1992. A. SCHUTZ, Das Problem der Relevanz, Frankfurt am Main: Suhr- kamp, 1971. A. SCHUTZ, Common-Sense and Scientific Interpretation of Human Ac- tion, in Collected Papers. Vol. 1, Den Haag: Martinus Nijhoff, 1973, pp. 3–47. F. SCHÜTZE, Pressure and Guilt: War Experiences of a Young German 167 Justice and Memory.indb 167 02.11.2009 13:39:18 Soldier and their Biographical Implications. Part 1 and 2, in Interna- tional Sociology, 7(2/3), 1992, pp. 187–208 and 347–367. G. M. SYKES, D. MATZA, Techniques of Neutralization. A Theory of Delinquency, in American Sociological Review, Vol. 22, 1957, pp. 664– 670. T. A. VAN DIJK, Racism and the Press. London: Routledge, 1991. R. WODAK, J. PELIKAN, P. NOWAK, H. GRUBER, R. DE CILLIA, R. MITTEN, “Wir sind alle unschuldige Täter”. Diskurshistorische Stu- dien zum Nachkriegsantisemitismus, Vienna (unpublished research report), 1990a. R. WODAK, J. PELIKAN, P. NOWAK, H. GRUBER, R. DE CILLIA, R. MITTEN, “Wir sind alle unschuldige Täter”. Diskurshistorische Studien zum Nachkriegsantisemitismus, Frankfurt am Main: Suhr- kamp, 1990b. 168 Justice and Memory.indb 168 02.11.2009 13:39:19 Resolving Antagonistic Tensions Some Discourse Analytic Reflections on Verbal Commemorative Practices Titus Ensink This volume results from the symposium “Breaking silence or making a clean break?”. The question in the title presupposes the existence of several tensions: those between keeping silent and breaking silence, and those between an unresolved question and the trial to make a “break” so as to find some resolution. The title also suggests that it might be necessary to break silence in order to find some resolution. In this paper I will offer some reflections on the consequences of these tensions from a discourse analytic perspective. It is clear that we are dealing with situations that carry a heavy burden from the past. Violent and unjust events from the past tend to linger on. The stories of what happened crystallise in collective narratives.1 These narratives define collective identities and persistent relationships between communities. Every generation passes their im- ages and attitudes on to the next: images of the enemy’s cruelty and inhumanity, images of the violation of one’s own humaneness and rights. In many cases, an enemy society thus becomes a hereditary enemy. In view of the many persistent conflicts worldwide it is useful to investigate examples where one party tried to resolve at least some of the burden of the past. Both positive emotions and reactions (admis- sion of guilt, forgiveness, reconciliation) and negative ones (denial, guilt, humiliation, revenge, hatred) are possible. It is important to point out that the realization of negative emotions calls for almost inevitably violent action, whereas positive emotions call for some form of communicative action (note that “breaking silence” calls for a form of communication). Let us look at some examples of communicative ac- tion aimed at resolving tensions resulting from past violent actions. In 1970, German Chancellor Brandt visited Warsaw in order to sign a treaty with the Poles. On that occasion he visited the monument of 169 Justice and Memory.indb 169 02.11.2009 13:39:19 the Warsaw Ghetto. In front of the monument, he went down on his knees. This gesture (by a person seen as the German representative) was understood as a recognition of guilt and an appeal for forgiveness. The gesture was criticised in Germany, but was highly appreciated in Poland.2 In 1984 German Chancellor Kohl and French President Mitterand stood holding hands at Verdun, commemorating the many deaths as a result of the fierce battle of Verdun during WW I, thus symbolis- ing reconciliation between the hereditary enemies, Germany and France. In May 1985, German Chancellor Kohl and US President Reagan made a joint visit to the cemetery at Bitburg in Germany. The visit was heavily criticised because several SS-soldiers lie buried there. Rea- gan meant his visit as a reconciliatory gesture toward the Germans. According to Herf,3 he was completely mistaken: He [Reagan] said, “We who were enemies are now friends; we who were bitter adver- saries are now the strongest of allies.” This dangerous half-truth ignored the links between the United States and those Germans such as Adenauer, Brandt, Reuter, Heuss, and Schumacher who had been “bitter adversaries” of the Nazis, not of the Allies. Furthermore, it presented as a great accomplishment one of the most regret- table aspects of the formation of the Western alliance, namely, the failure to purge the West German establishment more deeply in the postwar decade. In August 1994, German President Herzog made a speech in Warsaw on the occasion of the commemoration of the Warsaw Uprising of August 1944.4 In the final sentence of his speech he asks the Poles for forgiveness. The Polish audience started to applaud even before he had completely uttered that sentence.5 Herzog thus succeeded in complying with the host’s needs, without ignoring the German perspective elsewhere in his speech.6 – Herzog made that speech on a rather extraordinary commemorative occasion where all parties involved in the events of the Warsaw Uprising were present: the Poles as both insurgents and victims; Germany as the former enemy; and the allied forces who had fought against Germany (one of whom, however, had betrayed the Poles, at least from their perspective). Representatives of every party spoke on that occasion. Herzog’s ask- ing for forgiveness (echoing Brandt’s gesture) was very well received. Remarkably enough, the Poles turned out to be more eager to hear 170 Justice and Memory.indb 170 02.11.2009 13:39:19 an acknowledgement of liability from the Russians (officially their liberator) than from the Germans. It is not quite accidental that these examples pertain to Germany, especially Germany’s Nazi past. It is quite common to consider the Nazi regime and their actions as the nec plus ultra of human evil, unparalleled in human history. It’s precisely the heavy burden of these crimes that forced Germans to ask themselves what that burden means to their identity: Nazism is part of German history, hence part of German identity. Is one willing or rather reluctant to acknowledge that liability? The difficulty and contentiousness of this burden is the major theme of studies such as Wodak et al. 1990, Buruma 1994, Wodak et al. 1994, Herf 1997 or Assmann 2006. Willingness to ac- knowledge liability implies both one’s identity and one’s relation to others. The problematic character of this question appears clearly in the next example, also pertaining to the burden of the Nazi past. On November 10, 1988, the Chairman of the German parliament, Philipp Jenninger, addressed the Bundestag on the occasion of the 50th anni- versary of the “Kristallnacht”, the night of the broken glass. Jenninger felt forced to resign as Chairman because of the reactions to his speech. His speech was understood by both his political audience and the media as expressing an exculpation – and maybe even admiration – for Hitler’s Nazi regime, and condoning the fact that the Germans willingly followed that regime. Most media reports worldwide rein- forced that impression: a leading German politician had gone badly awry, both politically and morally.7 Closer scrutiny of what Jenninger expressed, however, shows that in the perception of Jenninger’s speech something went dramati- cally wrong.8 What the reception of this speech neglected was the way Jenninger made his intentions clear at the very beginning of his speech: Ladies and gentlemen! The Jews in Germany and all over the world commemorate today the events of fifty years ago. We Germans too commemorate what happened in our country fifty years ago and it is proper that we do this in both states on Ger- man soil [. . .] Yesterday, many of us attended – invited by the Central Council of Jews in Germany – the commemoration in the Synagogue in Frankfurt am Main. Today, however, we have gathered in the Bundestag in order to commemorate here in the Parliament 171 Justice and Memory.indb 171 02.11.2009 13:39:19 the pogroms of November 9th and 10th, 1938. Because not the victims, but we, in the midst of whom the crimes were committed, have to remember and account for them. We Germans should have a clear understanding about our past, and learn from it for the political formation of our present and future. The victims, the Jews all over the world, know all too well the meaning of November 1938 for their suffering to come. Do we know it as well? (Wissen wir es auch?) [my translation, TE] In the final question in this quotation (“Do we know it as well?”) Jennin- ger emphasises “we”: do we Germans know? It is clear that Jenninger chooses a German perspective on the past events of the Kristallnacht. And such a perspective is, inevitably, a perpetrator’s perspective. It is once more clear that this perspective is chosen not because the speaker wants to defend or condone the perpetrators, but precisely because he wants to confront them with their past. He continues as follows: What happened fifty years ago in the midst of Germany had not occurred since the Middle Ages in any civilised country. And, even worse: the excesses were not the expression of a however motivated, spontaneous anger of the people, but they were contrived, initiated and stimulated by the State’s leaders. The ruling Party had – in the person of its highest representative – put law and order out of work. The State itself became the organiser of the crimes [. . .] Later on in his speech Jenninger made some remarks which, consid- ered superficially, or rather, taken out of context, seem to express admiration for Hitler or to condone Nazi actions. For example Did not Hitler realise what Wilhelm II only promised, viz. lead the Germans into glorious times? Wasn’t he really elected by Providence, a leader such as is given to a people only once in a thousand years? [. . .] Did not just recently (eben erst) the leaders of Britain, France and Italy pay a visit to Hitler in Munich, and helped him to reach one more of these successes? And as for the Jews: did they not take on a role in the past, so it was said (so hieß es damals), which didn’t belong to them? Was it not time for them to take restrictions into account? Didn’t they perhaps deserve it that they were shown the place where they belonged? And above all: didn’t the propaganda (apart from some wild and non-serious exaggerations) respond in essential points to the own surmises and convictions? In the context of his speech, however, it is fully clear that Jenninger meant these remarks as the description of the average mindset of Ger- mans at the time of the Kristallnacht in 1938 (note the formulation eben erst, just recently: Jenninger refers here to Munich 1938). The 172 Justice and Memory.indb 172 02.11.2009 13:39:19 description of that average mindset, again, is not meant as condoning but as a form of self-confrontation: “this is how we Germans were talking in our everyday conversations at that time” (so hieß es damals, so it was said). The case of Jenninger’s speech illustrates the difficulty of finding a proper way to address a painful and shameful past. A newspaper commented on Jenninger’s speech that it is improper to speak at a funeral about the intentions of the murderer. But did Jenninger speak “at a funeral”? At the beginning of his speech he refers to the fact that the day before there had been a commemorative meeting in the Synagogue in Frankfurt. In contrast, so he says, today the Germans have to remember what happened and to account for it: he did not speak at a funeral, but he confronted the murderers with their ac- tions, which led to a funeral. One could interpret this case as a manifestation of the fact that many more tensions are involved in addressing painful and shameful events from the past than the ones I mentioned at the very beginning of this paper:9 1. between memory and amnesia One cannot remember everything, some events stick to memory, other events are simply forgotten. This is different, however, with ‘heavy’ events and experiences. These events and experiences tend to become either an obsession (something to be remembered all the time, considered more rel- evant than anything else), or its counterpart, a taboo (something to be denied, which cannot be remembered because remembering it involves acknowledging it). And often, one person’s obsession is another person’s taboo. 2. between identity work and relationship work The past defines one’s identity to a large extent. This holds true both for individuals and for communities. Most people, and most communities, tend to cherish a self-image that is not entirely true, and which is more positive than the truth would allow. Hence, to admit that one has made mistakes or, even worse, has committed crimes, is an act that runs contrary to the tendency to stick to a positive image of one’s identity. Although true, an admission deteriorates one’s self-image. But those who suffered from the mistakes or crimes yearn for the perpetrators’ admission. The tension is the strongest 173 Justice and Memory.indb 173 02.11.2009 13:39:20 when the perpetrators wish to maintain their relationship with the victims, yet are strongly reluctant to admit guilt. 3. between victimhood and perpetratorhood In a way, it is easier to be a victim than to be a perpetrator. Being a victim does not burden one’s conscience, being a perpetrator does. Being a victim entitles one to receive compensation, being a perpetrator entails having to pay debts. 4. between choice and inevitability Responsibility is greater, both in the moral and in the legal sense, when one has acted out of free will. Actions carried out because one was forced to (by others, by fate) release the burden of responsibility at least to some extent. 5. between peace and justice Crimes from the past demand, from the point of view of justice, both excuses and compensation to the victims. However, that would be too much to ask from perpetra- tors who are still alive and are still in power. Therefore, in order to maintain peace, they are often not prosecuted. 6. between past and present Often, there is a great reluctance to go back to the past altogether: only the present and the future are consid- ered important. “Life goes on”, “Let the dead bury the dead”, “Let bygones be bygones”, “What’s done cannot be made undone”. Commemorative discourse is an inherent attempt to find a way out of these tensions. Commemorative discourse is representative by its very nature: it must be uttered by a person in a representative posi- tion in society (such as a Head of State or Head of Government). Only incumbents of such a position will be seen and heard to express the community’s values and identity, or to enter the community’s external relations on a novel basis (note that the different examples mentioned above are of this type). This implies that incumbents of a representative function need to balance the needs from the society they represent in the way they try to find the way out. Jenninger chose a one-sided position on the tensions mentioned above, without paying tribute to the demands from the opposite pole. Jenninger did the following: 1. he forced a detailed and gruesome memory on his audience (re- sulting from the leading question “Wissen wir es auch?”; see also his quotations from murder scenes elsewhere in his speech); 174 Justice and Memory.indb 174 02.11.2009 13:39:20 2. he defined German identity as inextricably linked to the Nazi past; 3. he chose the perspective of confronting (the descendants of) the perpetrators by realistically describing the perpetrators’ thoughts and actions, leaving them no way out, such as considering them- selves victims of another kind; 4. he described the (German) Nazi actions as planned and deliber- ate, not as coerced by an alien force. Therefore, one might say, Jenninger broke silence. But he did not succeed in making a clean break. Was it his fault, or the fault of his audience?10 It is possible to look for explanations and evaluations from the point of view of political science (what were the German political conditions at that time?) or history (did Jenninger present truthful insights?). From the point of view of discourse analysis, it is important to look into three aspects of his speech: 1. the structure of the speech and the way its utterances may or should be interpreted in view of that structure; 2. the way in which the speaker represents his audience and thus tries to involve the audience, both in the commemorative activity and in the commemorated events; 3. the way in which the speech tries to realise the “social practice” of commemoration and to solve the problems inherent in that practice; and the way in which these efforts either fit or misfit the interpretive preferences and expectations among his audience (or rather: parts of his audience, since the audience is not one homogeneous entity). Pertaining to Jenninger’s speech my analysis of these three aspects is as follows:11 1. The speech is clearly structured, and each step or stage of the structure may be considered a legitimisation of the next one. The train of thought developed in Jenninger’s speech may be paraphrased as consisting of the following steps: 175 Justice and Memory.indb 175 02.11.2009 13:39:20 Ladies and gentlemen, 1. We commemorate here today the ‘Reichskristallnacht’. 2. Hence we, the Germans, in the midst of whom the crimes were committed, have to understand what happened and to account for it. 3. Therefore, here is a description of the events that happened at that time. 4. These events were possible because the average German mindset at that time was like this: 5. Hitler was a successful statesman and made Germany prosper, and as for the Jews it was right that they were curtailed. 6. In view of all this, present day implications are [. . .] However, the worldwide media’s portrayal of his speech was mostly as if Jenninger’s speech did not contain the essential fourth step in the development of the train of thought. As a result, the fifth step appears as Jenninger’s own point of view. Jenninger’s sixth step never received any serious attention. 2. In his leading question “do we know it as well?” Jenninger makes a distinction between perpetrators and victims: he grants that the victims know everything but wonders whether (the descendants of) the perpetrators do know it as well (apparently presupposing that they don’t or don’t want to!). Hence, he speaks both on behalf of and to (the descendants of) the perpetrators in order to confront them (“us”!) with their past. Thus, the audience is addressed in a way they are reluctant to identify with. 3. The “social practice” of commemoration implies that only those events that we wish or need to remember collectively are commemo- rated. Commemorating means that we need to find a way to make manifest what present-day meaning we wish to attribute to the remembered event (events that no longer bear such meaning are no longer commemorated). Ideally, we wish that meaning to be shared by our community (“our own people”) and be acknowl- edged by the outside world. But here the aforementioned tensions come into play. In his comparative analysis of two speeches ad- dressing the German Nazi past, namely Von Weizsäcker on May 8, 1985 and Jenninger in 1988, Kopperschmidt has argued that Von Weizsäcker chose a perspective that was the optimal possible consensus within (West-)German relations. As a consequence, Ko- pperschmidt argues, Von Weizsäcker’s speech contains a standard of what one can do (in Germany) addressing one’s past. Jenninger deviated from that standard.12 176 Justice and Memory.indb 176 02.11.2009 13:39:20 In terms of the tensions mentioned above, Von Weizsäcker chose a position that may be characterised as follows: 1. He acknowledged the duty of remembering without, however, making the content of the memory fully explicit. 2. He redefined May 8 as a Day of Liberation instead as a day of defeat to the Germans; 3. He chose the perspective of the victims of the war and their suf- fering; as for Germany, he acknowledged responsibility but not guilt; 4. He described Hitler as the ultimate culprit: Germany was ulti- mately also Hitler’s victim. Von Weizsäcker broke silence less than Jenninger did. This notwith- standing (or: therefore!?), he was widely acclaimed. In comparison to the (German) examples discussed above, I will now try to show in some examples from the Netherlands the range within which a successful coping with the past may occur. “Successful” in this context means either: to express a meaning which has some nov- elty, yet is readily accepted by the relevant community as a meaning expressing its accepted identity; or to alter the relationship between different communities linked by a common history which burdens their relationship. I will in particular focus on two speeches delivered by the Dutch Head of State, Queen Beatrix, a decade ago, in 1994–95: – Address to the Knesset during the state visit to Israel, March 28, 1995, discussing the four-century-long relationship between the Dutch and Jews.13 – Dinner speech to the Indonesian Head of State during the state visit to Indonesia, August 21, 1995, discussing the 400-year-long relationship between the Netherlands and Indonesia.14 These two speeches were subsequently published (together with two other speeches, the Christmas radio speech of December 25, 1994, and the Commemoration of 50 years liberation, May 5, 199515) in one 177 Justice and Memory.indb 177 02.11.2009 13:39:20 small volume: “Voor het behoud van de menselijkheid” (In order to maintain humaneness). The booklet has a short preface by the then Dutch Prime Minister: Now that, this year, we in the Netherlands commemorate half a century of liberation, and after two meaningful state visits in Israel and Indonesia, it is very valuable to read, reflect on and retain the speeches by Her Majesty the Queen, as put together in this edition. W. Kok, Prime Minister From this preface and from the fact that precisely these speeches were put together we may infer that the Dutch authorities attach great interest to the dissemination of these messages in Dutch society. These speeches show a thematic coherence. The common denomina- tor of the speeches is the fact that they address questions relating to Dutch self-evaluation in relation to important and problematic aspects of Dutch history. In this sense, these four speeches are commemorative speeches, although only the Commemoration of 50 years of freedom is a commemorative speech in the proper sense (that is, the occasion of the speech event is the anniversary of the historical occasion). The Christmas speech is a moral reflection. The speeches I focus on here are forms of (international) relationship work (state visit) leading to questions pertaining to the (shared) past of both communities, the host and the guest community. The reason for choosing these speeches from 1994–1995 is the fact that in these years the Dutch celebrated the 50th anniversary of several historical events of deep impact. To the Dutch, the German occupation lasting from May 10, 1940, through May 5, 1945, is an identity-defin- ing event. The Netherlands was occupied, the Dutch felt suppressed and victimized. Thus, the regaining of their freedom, independence and sovereignty was considered so valuable as to define May 5 as a keystone event. May 5 is Bevrijdingsdag (Liberation Day), apart from the Queen’s birthday, the only national holiday. It is even more so than more remote historical events which are equally of great importance. From 1548 to 1648 the Dutch fought the “eighty years’ war” against the Spanish, after which the Dutch republic came into being.16 Although this stage of history is still alive in the Dutch national anthem (whose text is a revolutionary poem of that time), there is no national holiday nor is there a regular fes- tive occasion in commemoration of this event. The same holds true 178 Justice and Memory.indb 178 02.11.2009 13:39:21 for the Napoleonic occupation (1793–1813/181417), or for the Flemish secession (183018), both of which are of great importance to the state of the Netherlands, but not of great importance to a generally felt national identity. The aforementioned events are related to the foundation of the state and the gaining of freedom and independence: events associated with the positive side of one’s identity. Other events in Dutch national history, however, carry a heavier burden. Before WW II, the Dutch ruled several colonies: Surinam and the Antilles in Southern America, and the Dutch East Indies (present-day Indonesia). Whereas in 1940 the home country was occupied by the German Army, the Dutch East Indies were conquered by the Japanese. The Japanese replaced the Dutch administration and kept most Dutch colonialists imprisoned in several internment camps. Thus, the Dutch government (which had fled to London in the UK) neither had executive power over the Netherlands nor over the East Indies. The home country was liber- ated in May 1945. Three months later, in August 1945, the Japanese were defeated in Asia. In the Dutch East Indies, the leader of the Indonesian Independence Party, Sukarno, used this moment (August 17, 1945) to claim independence and to proclaim the Republic of Indo- nesia. The Dutch refused to acknowledge Indonesian independence and used both diplomatic and military means as an attempt to restore control over the Dutch East Indies. In 1947 and 1948, two short wars (euphemistically referred to by the Dutch as “politionele acties om de orde te herstellen” – police actions in order to restore order) were fought between the Dutch army and the army of the Indonesian Republic. In fact, the Indonesians fought a guerrilla war from 1945 through 1949. After more than four years of diplomatic and military struggle, the Dutch gave in and acknowledged Indonesian independence, transfer- ring sovereignty on December 27, 1949. To the Dutch, this part of their history is rather painful. I spell out this painfulness in the following five remarks: 1. To the Dutch in general, the liberation from the German oc- cupation counts much more than the liberation from Japanese occupation. Thus, May 5 is a national holiday; August 17 is a day on which flagging is allowed. Dutchmen who returned to the homeland after Indonesian Independence feel discriminated in 179 Justice and Memory.indb 179 02.11.2009 13:39:21 comparison to Dutchmen who suffered from the German occupa- tion. There have even been debates as to the competitive question who suffered the most: those who were imprisoned in the German camps or those in the Japanese camps. 2. The Dutch East Indies were (and present-day Indonesia is) a multicultural and multi-ethnic archipelago. Between various groups from different islands exist tensions. During the proc- ess of decolonization, some groups cooperated with the Dutch (hence collaborated from the Indonesian point of view). After the finalization of Independence, these groups (especially Moluc- cans who fought as soldiers in the Royal Dutch Indian Army) left Indonesia and moved to the Netherlands where they went on to live in the hope and expectation of one day being able to return to their home country, the Molucs. The second generation of the Moluccans in the Netherlands were tired of waiting and tried to force the Dutch government by using violence (train hijackings in 1975 and 1976) to take them back to their home country, which was of course an impossible demand. 3. In the period of 1945–1949 there were political tensions in the Netherlands concerning the demand for Indonesian independ- ence. More than half of the Dutch population was in favor of try- ing to keep Indonesia under Dutch rule, whereas a large minority was against it. Roughly speaking, the political right was in favor of the maintenance of the colony; the left was in favor of releasing it. This division was never really bridged, as becomes manifest in several debates. The first debate took place after the publication of the “Excessennota” (Note on the excesses19) in 1969. Historical research showed that part of the Dutch military committed atrocities and war crimes in several parts of the East Indies. The debate about the Note made the latent division within Dutch society manifest: one prevalent, mainly leftist, point of view was that colonialism in general and crimes committed by Dutchmen in particular were unjustified and are to be condemned. Veterans of the Royal Dutch Indian Army felt especially betrayed by the leftist view: they served their country loyally and the view that their actions were illegitimate was felt as a stab in their backs. Opposed to this view was the mainly rightist judgment that the Dutch decisions in the years 1945–1949 were justified and legitimate. 180 Justice and Memory.indb 180 02.11.2009 13:39:21 4. Subsequent debates did not fundamentally change this picture. In 1993 and 1994, for example, two parliamentary debates took place about the request for a visa to visit the Netherlands. This request was made twice by Jan Poncke Princen, a former soldier of the Royal Dutch Indian Army, who defected in 1948 to the Indonesian side. Princen embodies the irreconcilable conflict. To some, he is a traitor deserving capital punishment. His return to the homeland is unthinkable. To others, he made a difficult but right decision, choosing the right side, and even continuing to do so, since he became a human rights activist in Indonesia. The points of view in both parliamentary debates proved to be irreconcilable.20 After long and heated debates, the Dutch parlia- ment chose both times against the granting of a visa to Princen, so as not to hurt the feelings of “many thousands of veterans of the Dutch Indian Army”. After his first request (in 1993), Prin- cen was refused a visa. Despite the position taken by the Dutch parliament, Princen was granted a visa after the second request (in 1994), so as to enable him to visit his family for a few days during Christmas. He had to be guarded by the police, and was not granted the opportunity to speak to the press. Princen’s visit caused the president of the Dutch Parliament to argue in favor of a “national debate” on “the way in which the Netherlands treated Indonesia’s pursuit of independence during the forties”. Some commentators say that the Netherlands’ struggle pertaining to Indonesia with an unbewältigte Vergangenheit (unresolved past).21 5. The Dutch prefer historical analysis to drawing political or legal consequences from that analysis. The “Note on the excesses” was written by historians who were praised and thanked for their meticulous work. None of the military involved in the excesses, however, was ever brought to justice. Neither was the question as to the political responsibility for the excesses really answered. The reluctance still prevails. I will now turn to the speeches by the Dutch Queen. The speeches have different audiences. The first speech is addressed to the Israeli parliament, whereas the second one is addressed to the Indonesian President. Queen Beatrix speaks as the head of state of the Netherlands, hence as its highest representative. The speeches may be 181 Justice and Memory.indb 181 02.11.2009 13:39:21 characterized as representative speeches: the Queen’s voice is the voice of the nation, so to speak. Due to the constitutional position of the Dutch “King” (the constitutional term), her speeches are subject to the Dutch government’s approval (and even responsibility!). Because of this, she is not likely to take extreme positions or to address over-sensitive issues in her speeches (which would make them more newsworthy). On the other hand, precisely the fact that she is the Head of State warrants media attention, at least in the Netherlands. Although the Dutch people are not addressed but represented in these speeches, they may be considered to be indirectly (and “unratified”) addressed, since the Dutch must know how they are represented (hence the publication in the booklet and a direct television broadcast to the home audience). In order to carry out a discourse analysis of both speeches, it is nec- essary to look at the communicative problems that need to be solved. These problems exist on two levels: 1. concerning the relationship between the Netherlands and the hosting nation; 2. concerning the way the Netherlands has to be represented. These problems are in part recognizable in the text of the speeches: if a certain problem is addressed in the text it is therefore a problem in the relationship between both countries or communities. But the text itself is not suf- ficient. Problems may be avoided or kept silent about. It is necessary to control what problems are actual, for example by looking at par- liamentary or media debates, or in intellectual debates of historians and political scientists. The relationship between the Dutch and the Israelians counts as friendly. The Netherlands enjoy a positive image in Israel. The speech is undoubtedly meant to contribute to the positive relationship. Israel, however, has serious and long-lasting problems, both with its neigh- bouring countries and with its Palestinian population. The Dutch officially endorse Israeli policies, but are at the same time critical of their position concerning Palestine. In the months preceding the Queen’s state visit, a group of former Dutch Jews who had emigrated from the Netherlands into Israel started a campaign in order to draw attention to the fact that, compared to other West European countries, the smallest proportion of the Jewish population that survived the war were in the Netherlands. The relationship between the Netherlands and Indonesia is far more delicate. This is shown in the fact that it was quite difficult to agree 182 Justice and Memory.indb 182 02.11.2009 13:39:21 on a date for the state visit itself. Because the Indonesians proclaimed independence on August 17, 1945, the Indonesian national holiday is on August 17 (similar to May 5 in the Netherlands). In 1995 that date thus is the 50th anniversary of the Indonesian proclamation. As early as April 1994, however, the Dutch parliament debated the issue of the desirable and acceptable date for the planned state visit. Participation by the Queen in the festive events of August 17, 1995, could in retrospect be regarded as some form of acknowledgement of the Indonesian proclamation. By implication, it would render the activities of the former Dutch East Indian Army illegitimate. The majority of the parliament was opposed to the Queen’s visit precisely on that date. A few months later, in January 1995, the Dutch gov- ernment announced that the beginning of the state visit had been established for August 21. In a letter to the Parliament the govern- ment added that the choice for this date did not imply a denial of the Indonesian proclamation of independence. – Apart from these Dutch sensitivities, there is the problem of the violation of human rights in Indonesia itself. How did the Queen address these problems in both speeches? And how did she establish a relation with her audience and represent the Dutch on that basis? There are several features of discourse (or text) indicative of what one represents. I will focus on one specific feature: the use of first person pronouns. The Queen seldom uses these pronouns in the singular form. Whenever she does so, she speaks about herself as a concrete person visiting this or that place here and now, such as in the first and final utterances of her Indonesia-address (“It is a great pleasure for my husband, our son and myself to be your guests here today” and “I would like to invite you all to raise your glass . . .”), and also one time in the Israel-address (“This realization makes our presence in your midst today a special experience. For this my husband and I thank you sincerely”). The use of the plural forms (“we/us/our”) exhibits a far larger frequency, and offers more possibilities. These pronouns, uttered by the Queen, may refer to: – “me and my family”, for example “For this my husband and I thank you sincerely. We believe that this solemn reception in the Knesset is renewed evidence of the special relationship. . .” 183 Justice and Memory.indb 183 02.11.2009 13:39:22 – “the represented nation, we Dutchmen”, for example “We then spoke of your country as the Dutch East Indies. . .” – “the communicative partners, you and I here present”, for exam- ple “The very name of your parliament, Knesset, takes us back to a distant past.” – “both in the host and the guest represented nations”, for example “to raise your glass and drink to your health, Mr President and Mrs. Suharto, to the continuing friendship between our countries and our peoples.” – “we humans in general”, for example “It is a characteristic of our modern society that we know more and more about what happens in other countries, are also increasingly interested in them, and mutually form opinions about what we learn.” Queen Beatrix began her address to the Knesset as follows [the Queen addressed both the Knesset and the Indonesian President in English, so the following quotations are original]: Mr. Speaker, Members of the Knesset, The very name of your parliament, Knesset, takes us back to a distant past. As early as three thousand years ago your forefathers congregated in national assemblies. Though Israel may be relatively young as a state, the Jewish people can look back on a very old history. The traces of those early times are present here in many places and in many forms. Travelling through these biblical lands is therefore like travelling through time. Jerusalem and Jericho, the river Jordan – these old names are in the news even today, but also revive for everyone memories of that long and rich past. These places and the many memories that are associated with them are of particular significance not only for the Jewish people but also for the Dutch. Formally addressing the (Speaker and members of the) Knesset, Beatrix immediately takes the communicative situation (“takes us back”) as a starting point to link her audience to their historical roots, thus broadening her state visit from the state of Israel to the Jewish people. On that basis she describes subsequently the development between the Jews and the Dutch. She presupposes a common ground to start from. The Indonesian address began as follows: 184 Justice and Memory.indb 184 02.11.2009 13:39:24 Mr President, It is a great pleasure for my husband, our son and myself to be your guests here today. We are glad to be able to pay an extensive visit at this time to the country that holds such a special place in the hearts of many Dutchmen. It is already twenty-four years since my parents preceded us by paying the first Dutch State visit to Indonesia. They retain fond memories of that occasion. The fact that we have come to Indonesia a few days after the seventeenth of August, the day on which your country declared its independence fifty years ago, gives this State visit a special dimension indeed. The beginning of this address seems much more personal, since the Queen speaks about herself and her family. There is, however, less common ground, there is no “us” including both host and guest. The host is referred to rather formally (“the first Dutch State visit to Indonesia” instead of “our first visit to your country”). The final sentence of this quotation seems to express mutual rapport, but the “special dimension” is rather painful if one realises that the Dutch refused to (or did not dare to) accept the invitation to be present on the anniversary itself. This general picture is reinforced when we look at the use of personal pronouns in the full text of both addresses. Reference Israel Indonesia 1. own family 6 4 2. the represented nation 17 6 3. the communicative situation 1 - 4. both represented nations 2 13 5. humanity 4 3 total 30 26 Table 1: Frequency pronouns 1st person plural (“we/us/our”) The total frequency is hardly different. There is a clear difference, how- ever, in the frequency of the single categories: category 2 is frequent in the Israel-address, category 4 in the Indonesia-address. Thus it seems as if the Queen speaks from a Dutch perspective in Israel and from a shared mutual perspective in Indonesia. But this picture is misleading. The low frequency of category 2 in the Indonesia address is the result of a stylistic choice. In most cases where the Queen refers to the Neth- erlands or the Dutch perspective, formulations such as “our country”, “our ancestors”, “our Golden Age”, “our capital”, and “our country’s 185 Justice and Memory.indb 185 02.11.2009 13:39:24 Jewish population” are chosen in the Israel speech. By contrast, in the Indonesia speech noun phrases are used: “the first Dutchmen”, “in the Netherlands’s national history”, “considered from the Dutch point of view”, and even “the Europeans” in cases where only “Dutchmen” may be meant. Instead of these noun phrases, Beatrix could have used pronominal formulations (“in our national history”, “considered from our point of view”, et cetera). In the Indonesia address the Netherlands and the Dutch perspective are thus no less present, but are presented in a more formal and detached manner. The higher frequency of category 4 in the Indonesia address is due to another cause. In this speech the Queen addresses repeatedly the shared past between the Netherlands and Indonesia and their present-day relation. In these cases the Queen uses forms of “we/us”, as in these fragments: – The separation of our two countries thus became a lengthy process, costing much pain and bitter conflict. – When in nineteen forty-nine the separation of our two countries was formally sealed, Queen Juliana said, “No longer do we stand partially opposed to each other”. – [. . .] to continue our efforts to maintain and improve the good – and special – relations that now exist between our two countries. Ironically, the Queen uses more pronouns expressing communality, when there is less in common. In contrast, in the Israel speech the Queen presupposes having much in common, but the communality pertains more to the Netherlands and the Jews, than to the state of Israel. The formal audience – the Knesset – is addressed partly as the formal representatives of the host- ing state, but even more often as the symbolic or moral representative of the Jews in general. The discrepancy between formal and symbolic representation of the audience prevents the Queen from using the pronouns “we/us” in the intended meaning. In both speeches, the Queen chooses a historical approach. In the Israel address, the Dutch revolt against Spanish rule in the sixteenth and seventeenth century is described as modelled on Jewish his- tory. The Queen then focuses on the historical development of the relationship between the Dutch and Jews since the seventeenth cen- tury, when many Spanish and Portuguese Jews immigrated into the Netherlands, escaping the Inquisition. The relation is considered as 186 Justice and Memory.indb 186 02.11.2009 13:39:24 mutually beneficiary. In this context, the Queen makes the following central remarks about the Dutch failure to rescue Dutch Jews during the Second World War: Most of our Dutch Jews were carried off to concentration camps where they would eventually meet their death. We know that many of our fellow countrymen put up courageous – and sometimes successful – resistance, and often, exposing themselves to mortal danger, stood by their threatened fellow men. [. . .] But we also know that they were the exceptional ones and that the people of the Netherlands could not prevent the destruction of their Jewish fellow citizens. Fifty years after the end of the war we cannot joyfully commemorate the restoration of our freedom without at the same time asking ourselves in bewilderment and dismay how this could have happened. After thus having conceded failure by the Dutch, the Queen addresses current issues, especially tensions in the Middle East. Here, she turns the tables: the West European reconciliation after WW II is presented as an example to the combatants. When we look in turn at the Indonesian speech we see that the Queen again offers a historical approach in which the development of the relationship between the Netherlands and Indonesia is discussed. Four hundred years ago four small Dutch ships left the roadstead of Texel to set sail for the East Indies. More than a year later they arrived at Bantam. The crews of those ships were not the first Europeans to visit this land, but they were the first Dutchmen. The purpose of their expedition was to break the trade monopoly of the Portuguese and win a share of the already flourishing and profitable trade in oriental spices. That impressive voyage under the command of Cornelis de Houtman is an important event in the Netherlands’ national history. (Note the remarkable final utterance in this quotation: is the event not important in Indonesia’s history, and to whom is it impressive to?) Since Indonesia is a former Dutch colony, the Queen also has to address the separation between both countries in a rather difficult process of decolonisation, as described above. The Queen mentions the Dutch reluctance to accept Indonesia’s claim for independence in 1945. The Queen expresses then as central remarks “our sorrow” about the pain that this process cost to many: The Netherlands was not at first prepared to accept the Indonesian pursuit of com- plete and immediate independence. The separation of our two countries thus became 187 Justice and Memory.indb 187 02.11.2009 13:39:25 a lengthy process, costing much pain and bitter conflict. When we look back on that time, which now lies almost fifty years behind us, it deeply saddens us that so many died in that struggle or have had to bear its scars for the rest of their lives. It is significant that Queen Beatrix reached rather different effects with the speeches during her state visits to Israel and Indonesia, respectively. In the Knesset, she was applauded; the Israeli press described her speech and her visit as successful and the mutual rela- tions as enhanced. In the Netherlands, her words about the fate of the Jewish population provoked reflection and thoughtfulness, as exemplified in several media discussions. In Indonesia, her address and visit were coolly received. The In- donesian government’s speaker answered to Dutch journalists after the Queen’s speech that in Indonesia it is considered polite not to put pressure on one’s guests, and thus not to ask for excuses and not to be annoyed when guests choose not to make excuses. Two weeks later, the Indonesian Minister of Commerce, addressing Dutch busi- nessmen, hinted ironically at the Queen’s words when he remarked that the fact that he came to the Netherlands the same year in which the Dutch Queen visited Indonesia was a sign of the special relationship between both countries. In the comparison of the two central remarks quoted above from both speeches two points must be noticed: 1. In the speech to the Knesset Dutch failure is admitted in a rather straightforward way. 2. In the speech to the Knesset Beatrix draws a division in the popu- lation she represents: “. . . they were the exceptional ones and . . . the people of the Netherlands could not prevent the destruction of their Jewish fellow citizens.” The majority of the represented people are criticised, only a small minority acted in a just and respectable way. Precisely these two points are omitted in the Indonesian speech: there is no admission of Dutch failure, and there is no trace of internal division. One possible explanation is to suppose that the Queen did not make similar statements because she (or rather: the Dutch govern- ment) was convinced of the moral and historical correctness of what she expressed. Another (arguably more plausible) explanation is to 188 Justice and Memory.indb 188 02.11.2009 13:39:25 suppose that she refrained from making similar statements because of her position as a representative speaker.22 Representative speakers want to express a sense of unity within the population they represent, in order to represent at all. If there is no such sense of unity, then at least the speaker has to ask whether s/he is able to express a position that is minimally acceptable. Exactly this difference accounts for the Queen’s difference of expres- sion. What the Queen does in the Israel speech fits in the other speeches from the booklet in which they were published. I quote a small fragment from both speeches in order to illustrate their similar tenor: The sharp picture of right and wrong – which now so often determines our judgment about the war – is based on hindsight. Then everything was less clear. Resistance was not general: most of the people chose to go on living as normally as possible in order to survive. Their eyes looked sometimes in another direction when in clear daylight dark events happened. [Christmas radio speech; Dutch original, my translation – TE] The war meant unimaginable sorrow; a world of fear and pain, of cold, hunger and starvation. People were facing far reaching choices and questions of life and death. It should not be forgotten how weak the heart can be in such distress. The memo- ries of those days are after half a century sometimes too much black and white. In order to create a right picture one should not conceal that next to courageous acting, passivity and active support of the oppressor occurred. [Commemoration 50 year Liberation; Dutch original, my translation – TE] In these fragments the Queens attempts an intervention in Dutch public discourse according to which the Dutch acted as a brave and resistant people against the German oppressor.23 One might say that this is the prevailing collective narrative24 of the Dutch concerning the past of 1940–45. This general picture is too favourable. Hence, the Queen’s intervention aims at counterbalancing Dutch smugness and conceit, by offering more nuanced descriptions and – in the case of the speech to the Knesset – by acknowledging responsibility. Beatrix could intervene this way, because in the Netherlands there exists no generally defended national self-picture: there are no lobby or pressure groups identifying with a specific position. The Israel speech had the effect of provoking a discussion in which the admission of the rather negative side of one’s self-image was readily accepted. On the other hand, there are outspoken opinions within Dutch society (and related lobby or pressure groups) about Dutch colonial 189 Justice and Memory.indb 189 02.11.2009 13:39:25 history. One point of view is that of the old colonists and members of the Dutch colonial army who fought for their country. This point of view is in general backed by the politically conservative part of the population. The other point of view, expressed by more leftist or liberal writers and politicians, is that of anti-colonialism. Both points of view are mutually exclusive. There is no open and ongo- ing debate within Dutch society about these perspectives. Whenever there is a debate, it is a fierce and irreconcilable one, as shown in the debates about Poncke Princen’s visa requests described above. Once in a while, when there is an occasion, both parties expose their respective points of view, without really debating. Within this context, the Queen chose a feasible expression, but did not really manage to satisfy any part of society. She did not take sides. Moreover, she did not alter the existing relationship between the Dutch and Indonesia in a favorable way. In the first part of this paper some examples were discussed of Ger- man representative politicians addressing the German past. Some representatives succeeded (Brandt, Kohl & Mitterand, von Weizsäcker, Herzog); some failed (Kohl & Reagan, Jenninger). Is there a com- mon denominator to these examples? Von Weizäcker succeeded in finding an acceptable and innovative perspective (the Germans were liberated on May 8, 1945), yet avoiding its implication that the Germans were not responsible for the Nazi regime. Brandt’s gesture was well received by Polish victims, and although Germans initially criticized him for conceding too much, the appreciation for his gesture grew in the aftermath. In these and similar cases the representative made an innovative step in which a step toward the (former) victim is combined with at least some concession regarding the extent of perpetratorhood of one’s own identity. The failure of Kohl and Reagan at Bitburg should be explained on the same basis: their joint visit was meant as a reconciliatory step, but this step was (rightly) considered a recon- ciliation with the wrong party.25 Jenninger’s failure is different: he made an innovative step which was too wide for his audience to accept at once. He expressed German perpetratorhood more explicitly and with less restraint than any other German representative politician before or after him had. Furthermore, his step seemed (at least at first sight) to be more concerned with perpetratorhood than with seeking 190 Justice and Memory.indb 190 02.11.2009 13:39:25 an advance to the victims. His audience chose to misunderstand his address in a direction opposite to its intention. The burden of the Dutch past is undoubtedly less heavy than the German past. But a burden remains a burden until one is relieved. Queen Beatrix conceded in Israel something her own society was not eager to admit. Her address is thus similar to the examples discussed above in the sense that she made an innovative step conceding respon- sibility of one’s own community. On the other hand, that step was not very contentious, so it was readily accepted within Dutch society. In Indonesia, the Queen chose to keep to middle ground. Sadness is expressed about what has happened, but the question who is to what extent responsible for what happened is not addressed. Hence, the community she represents is not forced to change their self-image, neither their own conscience nor their relation with the other party are changed for the better: they fossilize and rigidify. It takes always some courage on the part of the representative to be innovative and change both the self-image in conformity with the difficult truth and the relationship with the former enemy or victim toward reconciliation. Notes 1 Cf. WERTSCH 2002. 2 Cf. KRZEMIŃSKI 2000; ENSINK and SAUER 2003b: 86–89; GIESEN 2004: 132–135. 3 1997: p. 354. 4 ENSINK and SAUER 2003a. 5 ENSINK and SAUER 2003b: p. 63. 6 ENSINK and SAUER 2003b: p. 72–86. 7 LASCHET and MALANGRÉ 1989. 8 ENSINK 1992. 9 See also ENSINK and SAUER 2003a: pp. 1–6. 10 Cf. BURUMA 1994: p. 261. 11 ENSINK 1992. 12 KOPPERSCHMIDT 1989; HERF 1997: pp. 354–359 argues along similar lines. 13 See ENSINK 1996, also containing the full text, and SAUER 1996. 14 See ENSINK 1999, also containing the full text. 15 See SAUER 1999. 16 PARKER 1977. 17 See KOSSMAN 1978: pp. 65 ff. 18 KOSSMAN 1978: 151 ff. 191 Justice and Memory.indb 191 02.11.2009 13:39:25 19 BANK 1995. 20 ENSINK and SAUER 2000. 21 See for example VAN LIEMPT 1994: p. 11. 22 See ENSINK 1996. 23 Cf. also SAUER 1996. 24 WERTSCH 2002. 25 Cf. HERF 1997. Bibliography A. ASSMANN, Der lange Schatten der Vergangenheit: Erinnerungskultur und Geschichtspolitik. München: Beck, 2006. T.Th.M. BANK, De excessennota. Nota betreffende het archiefonderzoek naar de gegevens omtrent excessen in Indonesië begaan door Nederlandse militairen in de periode 1945–1950, Den Haag: SDU, ²1995. I. BURUMA, The wages of guilt. Memories of war in Germany and Japan, London: Jonathan Cape, 1994. T. ENSINK, Jenninger. De ontvangst van een Duitse rede in Nederland. Een tekstwetenschappelijke en communicatie-wetenschappelijke analyse. Amsterdam: Thesis, 1992. T. ENSINK, The footing of a royal address: An analysis of representativeness in political speech, exemplified in Queen Beatrix’ Address to the Knesset on March 28, 1995, in Current issues in language and society 3 (3), 1996, pp. 205–232. T. ENSINK, Epideiktik mit fehlendem Konsens. Die Tischrede der nieder- ländischen Königin Beatrix beim Staatsbesuch in Indonesien im August 1995, in J. KOPPERSCHMIDT and H. SCHANZE (eds.), Fest und Festrhetorik, München: Fink, 1999, pp. 75–101. T. ENSINK and C. SAUER, Die Mühen der Ebene und die unbewältigte Kolonialzeit. Ganz gewöhnlicher Parlamentarismus in Den Haag, in Armin BURKHARDT and Kornelia PAPE (eds.), Sprache des deutschen Parlamentarismus. Studien zu 150 Jahren parlamentar- ischer Kommunikation, Wiesbaden: Westdeutscher Verlag, 2000, pp. 357–387. T. ENSINK and C. SAUER (eds.), The Art of Commemoration. Fifty Years after the Warsaw Uprising. Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture (DAPSAC 7), Amsterdam–Philadelphia: John Benjamins, 2003a. 192 Justice and Memory.indb 192 02.11.2009 13:39:25 T. ENSINK and C. SAUER [2003b], The search for acceptable perspectives. German President Roman Herzog commemorates the Warsaw Uprising, in ENSINK and SAUER 2003a, pp. 57–94. B. GIESEN, Triumph and trauma. Boulder & London: Paradigm, 2004. J. HERF, Divided memory. The Nazi past in the two Germanys. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1997. J. KOPPERSCHMIDT, Öffentliche Rede in Deutschland, in Muttersprache 99, 1989, pp. 213–230 E.H. KOSSMAN, The low countries 1780–1940 Oxford: Clarendon, 1978. A. KRZEMIŃSKI, 2000, Der Kniefall. Warschau als Erinnerungsort deutsch-polnischer Geschichte, in Merkur 619, 2000, pp. 1077–1088. A. LASCHET and H. MALANGRÉ, Philipp Jenninger: Rede und Reak- tion, Aachen–Koblenz: Einhard & Rheinischer Merkur, 1989. G. PARKER, The Dutch Revolt, Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1977. C. SAUER, Echoes from abroad – Speeches for the domestic audience: Queen Beatrix’ Address to the Israeli Parliament, in Current issues in language and society 3 (3), 1996, pp. 233–267. C. SAUER, Lobrede auf die befreiten Niederlande. Königin Beatrix am 5. Mai 1995 im “Ridderzaal” in Den Haag, in J. KOPPERSCHMIDT and H. SCHANZE (eds.), Fest und Festrede, München: Fink, 1999, pp. 313–343. A. VAN LIEMPT, Een mooi woord voor oorlog. Ruzie, roddel en achterdocht op weg naar de Indonesië-oorlog, Den Haag: SDU, 1994. J.V. WERTSCH, Voices of collective remembering, Cambridge: C.U.P., 2002. R. WODAK, P. NOWAK, J. PELIKAN, H. GRUBER, R. DE CILLIA and R. MITTEN, “Wir sind alle unschuldige Täter!” Diskurshistor- ische Studien zum Nachkriegsantisemitismus, Frankfurt: Suhrkamp, 1990. R. WODAK, F. MENZ, R. MITTEN and F. STERN, Die Sprachen der Vergangenheiten. Öffentliches Gedenken in österreichischen und deutschen Medien, Frankfurt: Suhrkamp, 1994. 193 Justice and Memory.indb 193 02.11.2009 13:39:25 Justice and Memory.indb 194 02.11.2009 13:39:26 Restitution: Yes, but . . .1 Rudolf de Cillia and Ruth Wodak As part of two research projects on the discursive construction of national identity,2 we analysed two large corpora centred on the com- memorative years 1995 and 2005. These data sets comprised both public discourse (political speeches, media texts, TV debates) and semi-public discourse (focus groups, interviews). One of the many aspects that we investigated was how the diverse speakers discursively constructed their shared history. Among the issues that arose in this respect was whether and to what extent, 50 or 60 years respectively after the end of the Second World War, the Austrian State is (still) responsible for the restitution of stolen property and for “compen- sating”3 victims of the crimes committed by the Nazi regime. This question was rarely addressed by the politicians in our data, and was only discussed in the focus groups after being introduced by the moderator. Nevertheless, seen against the historical context, we felt this question was extremely important, especially because some politicians did attempt to use the debate on “Aryanised” property and possible restitution for different political ends, and in differ- ent ways. For example, during the Viennese city council elections in 2001, the Freedom Party (FPÖ) and the then Carinthian Governor Jörg Haider launched numerous attacks against the President of the Jewish Community in Vienna, Ariel Muzikant. He used these to draw parallels between the “Aryanisation” of Jewish property in Austria with the expulsion of the Sudeten Germans from Czechoslovakia after the Second World War. Haider tried, by means of ad hominem arguments, to criminalise Muzikant and thereby to put restitution in general in a bad light.4 The views on the restitution of stolen Jewish property are thus accompanied by a number of contradictions: insights into past in- justices are limited by means of decontextualised and inappropriate 195 Justice and Memory.indb 195 02.11.2009 13:39:26 comparisons and equations; every step in the “right” direction (that is towards “compensating” for the harm done) is in a way “matched” by increases in contributions (pensions, et cetera) for Wehrmacht soldiers or their families, so that “all sides” are treated “fairly”; and attempts to foster a positive image abroad are undermined by explicitly anti- Semitic statements. The overarching leitmotif remains unchanged, namely that all Austrians were victims. However, victims of which perpetrators, when, where, and why, are distinctions that are made far too seldom5 and lead to the overarching questions addressed in this volume; that is how to cope with traumatic pasts – and more specifically, how Austrians and the Austrian elites have confronted war crimes of Austrians in World War II, the collaboration with Nazi perpetrators, issues such as participation in war crimes, or – in general – the tabooing of past – sensitive – events. In this way, our focus on the discussion of “restitution” serves as a “symptom” of the much more general patterns which can be found in the Austrian society since 1945 (see also chapters by Anton Pelinka, Walter Manoschek, and Martin Reisigl, in this volume). Parliamentary debates on the “National Fund for Victims of National Social- ism” One opportunity for politicians to utter their views on this topic was the 1995 parliamentary debate on the institution of the “National Fund for Victims of National Socialism”. This fund was intended to finance “services for people who were persecuted by the Nazi regime for political reasons, due to their ethnicity, religion, nationality or sexual orientation, on health grounds or because they were accused of being so-called antisocials”.6 The leader of the parliamentary So- cial Democratic Party (SPÖ) described the attempts to “compensate” the victims as “a gesture [. . .] tied to concrete help [. . .] for those who really need it [. . .], in other words for those, who are in need of actual support.”7 The Austrian People’s Party (ÖVP) parliamen- tary leader in turn included outstanding pension payments in the “compensation”.8 In the National Council meeting of June 1st, 1995, the FPÖ member of parliament Harald Ofner demanded that not only the “millions 196 Justice and Memory.indb 196 02.11.2009 13:39:26 of direct victims [. . .], in particular our Jewish fellow citizens in Austria” should be “compensated”. Rather, he wished to extend the right to restitution to what he called “millions of indirect victims [. . .], in particular the past Austrians [Altösterreicher] in the former dominions of the Austro-Hungarian monarchy”.9 He justified this by saying that “it must, from the point of view of those affected, always be the case that a victim will always be a victim, regardless of who, when and where perpetrated evil against the people in question”.10 The FPÖ group also suggested an amendment along these lines, and party chairman Jörg Haider demanded in his address to the National Council “that all those of good intent should reach out their hands to each other – over all the trenches and beyond all the graves”.11 By equating the unequatable, these argumentation patterns create parallels between completely different groups, which consolidate into a single victims’ collective, a huge community of victims. In the 2005 political speeches, only the “needy” should be “compensated”. According to Ruth Beckermann, “having been a victim at the time is not enough.” Rather, “those who could rebuild their lives after surviving [. . .] are stripped of their victim status, because they cor- respond more to the envied, hated image of the industrious Jew than to what is apparently the only acceptable image of Jews: as the eternal victims.”12 “Restitution” in political speeches from 1995 In the political speeches accompanying the commemorative events of 1995 and 1996, Nazi crimes and the question of “making up” are rarely mentioned before Austrian publics. However, President Klestil did express his regret in a speech to the Knesset in 1994 “that some of the worst followers of the Nazi dictatorship were Austrians”. He also commented on the Austrian “compensation policy”: We know that for a long time we did not do enough, and also not the right thing, to improve the lot of the survivors of the Jewish tragedy and the descendants of the victims. And that we have for too long avoided acknowledging those Jewish Austrians, who at that time had to leave the country, demeaned and embittered. 197 Justice and Memory.indb 197 02.11.2009 13:39:26 Apart from speeches before an international audience, and in the commemorative address to the National Assembly on April 27th, 1995, the topic is not mentioned in the numerous speeches of the then president. In the commemorative address, Klestil thematises Austrian guilt during the Nazi regime, and points out that Austria has only belatedly started dealing with several questions: why Na- tional Socialism was given so much support even “among us”; why 200,000 Jewish fellow citizens were persecuted and driven away, and why 65,000 were killed; why many Roma and Sinti faced the same fate; why there was no military and only limited political resistance; and why tens of thousands of Austrians could disappear without a trace in prisons and concentration camps, out of which so many did not return. However, the mitigating formulations, in particular the “absence of the perpetrators” in all the statements, border on trivi- alisation of the topic. In contrast, Federal Chancellor Franz Vranitzky’s statements on the topic mark a clear change in the issue of to what extent Austrians were active participants in the crimes of National Socialism. He explicitly addressed the question of responsibility for the crimes not only in the commemorative address to the Federal Assembly on April 27th, 1995, but also in his speech in the Mauthausen concentration camp. This followed from his earlier speech at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem on June 9th, 1993, where he was being awarded an honor- ary doctorate, and in his declaration to the National Council on July 8th, 1991, in Vienna: Much has happened in the past years to, as far as is possible, compensate [sic] for the damage that has been done, to ameliorate the suffering that has been caused. There is still much to be done, and the Federal Government will continue to do eve- rything in its power to help those who have not, or not sufficiently, been addressed by the previous measures, or whose moral or material requirements have thus far not been considered. In general, however, when the commemorative speeches of 1995 and 1996 thematise restitution in the Second Republic, the speak- ers sometimes gloss over past failures and use the topic for positive self-presentation, or attempt to justify past inaction or the lack of progress to date.13 198 Justice and Memory.indb 198 02.11.2009 13:39:26 2001: Restitution – for what? As mentioned above, the FPÖ instrumentalised the issue of restitu- tion in the Viennese city council elections in 2001. The following quotations illustrate the FPÖ politician Jörg Haider’s attempts to put restitution in a bad light by criminalising Ariel Muzikant, the President of the Jewish Community in Vienna.14 They are given in chronological order from January 21st to March 22nd, 2001: Report about the FPÖ party meeting on January 21st, 2001 in the newspaper Der Standard: „We have other problems than always having to negotiate how we must compensate,” Haider said, “it has to end sometime.” Mr Muzikant will only be satisfied when he has been repaid the 600 million Schilling debt that he incurred in Vienna. Haider on February 21st, 2001, at the launch of the election campaign in Oberlaa: [The Mayor of Vienna Michael] Häupl has an election strategist called Greenberg [loud laughter]. He had him flown in from the East Coast! Dear friends, you have a choice between spin doctor Greenberg from the East Coast, or the Wienerherz [‘Viennese heart/soul’]. We don’t need calls from the East Coast. That’s just about enough. It’s about another part of history now, about compensation for those expelled from their homes [die Heimatvertriebenen]. Haider on February 28th, 2001, during the so-called Ash Wednesday speech: That Mr Muzikant: I can’t understand how someone called Ariel15 can have so much dirt stuck to him [so viel Dreck am Steckn haben kann] . . . I don’t understand it, but I think . . . he will say something about that tomorrow, won’t he . . . but I’m not very worried, on these questions... Interview with Haider in the weekly magazine News on March 14th, 2001: 199 Justice and Memory.indb 199 02.11.2009 13:39:26 I commented on his [Muzikant’s] role vis-à-vis Austria during the EU sanctions. I reserve the right to make further comments. Added to that, he has certainly taken advantage of his political connections to sort out his business affairs. And what’s more, that he has around 600 million Schillings debt with the Jewish Community, and has stabbed Austria and Washington in the back. I don’t really see why the taxpayer should pay just a single Schilling for Mr Muz- ikant’s sloppy accounting. Interview on ZIB 2 (a daily news and current affairs TV programme) on March 16th, 2001: IT: Now, you are talking about a necessary discussion that has to be held. In your commentary for tomorrow’s daily Die Presse you wrote that it was a joke that you made about Dr Muzikant, on the occasion of the speech at Ried im Innkreis. So what exactly did you mean by that? JH: It was a humorous play on words – and I think that is totally acceptable in poli- tics. But the deeper issue should not be kept secret, and that is simply the criticism of Mr Muzikant, who in a difficult phase for this republic has not shown himself to be a good Austrian, but rather in newspaper interviews and in press conferences, in TV statements, but also in reports to the Jewish World Congress, has pretended that Jewish fellow citizens in Austrian were endangered, and it has gone so far that they have to leave the country. And that I find rather strange from someone who, of whom we know that he moved here and for whom Austria has become an open and peaceful home. And that he then makes such unjustified and unfair statements about this country. IT: What you describe as a humorous play on words, others describe as a clearly anti-Semitic statement – and it’s not the first time that you so to speak have drawn on the subcutaneous effect of your personal approach to Jewish names. Do you do this deliberately to present this, this contrast, so the East Coast and the Wienerherz [“Viennese heart/soul”]. Is that – do you do these things deliberately? JH: Yes, but it has – it cannot really be forbidden to use a geographically precise term. You know that. IT: Yes, but Dr Haider, you know what you transmit along with this message. 200 Justice and Memory.indb 200 02.11.2009 13:39:26 In the remainder of this section, we describe various anti-Semitic stereotypes used by politicians that call into question the restitution of stolen Jewish property. This process started with the party meet- ing on January 22nd, 2001. In the statements made on this occasion, Muzikant is accused of accumulating debts, and of using the “com- pensation” to serve his own interests (that is settling his debts), at least in part. At the same time, restitution as a whole is devalued, as a not so important “problem”. This theme is continued during the election launch, where Haider rails against the supposed influence of the “East Coast” on both Mayor Häupl and his party, as well as on the restitution negotiations. In this speech the murder of Jews is juxtaposed with “compensation” for the exiled Sudeten Germans. On March 8th, 2001, Muzikant is again accused of criminal activities, something which is also taken up in the News interview on March 14, 2001. This whole first argumentative chain is designed to criminalise Ariel Muzikant, and thereby to put his role in the restitution negotiations into a bad light. The ultimate aim, however, seems to be to call into question restitution for the Jewish victims of the Holocaust, and to draw parallels with the exiling of the Sudeten Germans. The second argumentative theme concerns the identification of differences between Austrian citizens: those with a “true Viennese heart” against those who let themselves be influenced by the “East Coast” (supposedly representing the powerful Jewish lobby in New York). This division is found first in the election campaign in Vienna. Michael Häupl’s advisor, Stanley Greenberg, is above all characterised as a Jew, who now works for the SPÖ as a “spin doctor”. Characterising a person solely based on their identity as “a Jew” is something which is only ever done to activate anti-Semitic ideologies; in this case, it is totally immaterial for Greenberg’s work as a campaign strategist. Jews are thus contrasted with “real” Austrians. These statements also seem to trivialise and obfuscate the Nazi regime: emigration, immigration and returning are evidently seen as a “voluntary” decision, not caused by the Holocaust and the murder of Jews. Justificatory discourse thus takes its shape. Haider’s accusations are described as factual “criticisms”. The prevalent topos used in the third argument is thus “why can we not criticise Jews?” (It has of course to be made clear that name-calling and stereotyping have nothing to do with legitimate criticism). The 201 Justice and Memory.indb 201 02.11.2009 13:39:26 reasons for the so-called criticism are thus that Muzikant has given Austria “a bad name”, is a “traitor” who has “declared war against a democratically elected government”. Muzikant is therefore “not a good Austrian”. This draws on the anti-Semitic stereotype of the “betrayer of the fatherland”. The fourth leitmotif in Haider’s justificatory discourse relates to Muzikant’s “motives”: first to settle the debts that he apparently accrued through criminal means; second, that he is “full of hate”, “vindictive” and greedy for recognition. This also evokes a well-known anti-Semitic stereotype: the vindictive Jew (the saying from the Old Testament “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth” is often – errone- ously – quoted in relation to this). These different themes show how frequently Jörg Haider makes use of anti-Semitic stereotypes in 2001, and how the 2001 Viennese election campaign is linked with the debate on restitution. The de- valuation of restitution is apparent through parallels being drawn on the one hand, and the criminalisation of one of the key figures on the other. The defamatory and ultimately racist depiction of Muzikant, and through him of Austrian Jews, did not bring any extra votes in the Viennese elections, but discursive constructions gain their own momentum. Polarisation, questions about the validity of restitution and an anti-Semitic atmosphere were certainly fostered by Haider’s statements. 2005: Restitution as a way to relieve emotional and material suffering Past and future measures towards so-called “compensation” were also not a big part of the 2005 political speeches. When they were men- tioned, the way they were portrayed and evaluated corresponded with established political positions. The then leader of the Green Party, Alexander van der Bellen, described “behaviour towards surviving emigrants” as one of the “shabby aspects” of Austrian history in his speech to parliament during the opening of the so-called “Gedanken- jahr” (“commemorative year/year of memory”) on January 14th, 2005. However, he did not specify what exactly constitutes this “behaviour”, and he demanded only that the situation should be subject to “a close look”. State Secretary Franz Morak treated this topic in somewhat 202 Justice and Memory.indb 202 02.11.2009 13:39:27 more detail (probably not coincidentally in a speech to the UN). He expressed his regret for Austria’s failure to meet its long overdue in- ternational obligations, and highlighted the ÖVP–FPÖ government’s attempts to address the situation. This can be seen as an example of the aforementioned effort to create a positive image abroad. Mr President, the Nazi regime not only perpetrated crimes against humanity on a never-before-seen scale, it is also responsible for the largest organised looting of all times. Only in the past years have we begun to realise the enormous extent of the material losses that the victims of the National Socialist persecution had to bear. [. . .] Only after many decades did we become aware that everything possible was not being done, and that there were still gaps and inadequacies in the restitution and reparation efforts. To rectify this situation, the Austrian Government has taken extensive steps and we are optimistic that these efforts, which are the responsibility of all political parties and the whole Austrian population, will result in at least a certain measure of justice for the victims of National Socialism. This comes late – too late for so many. Then Federal Chancellor Schüssel, whose government passed the “Settlement fund law” in 2001 (see above), and who established the General Settlement Fund, described the actions of his government as “successful” in his speech of January 15th, 2005: Only very late have we managed, after first attempts in the early years, to provide a contribution towards the relief of emotional and material suffering. Both ÖVP speakers claim that the restitution payments come very late – “too late for many”. The speakers are referring to the time before the establishment of the General Settlement Fund in their period in office. However, they could just as easily have been referring to the period after the establishment of the fund, since at the time of the speeches no payments had been made. At the time, some survivors were still waiting without avail for their promised symbolic “contribu- tion towards the relief of emotional and material suffering”. Even in 2008 only half the payments had been made, and many of the survi- vors had passed away in the intervening period. It is sometimes hard to avoid the impression that – as was the case in 1945/46 – things are being “drawn out” not only by coincidence.16 203 Justice and Memory.indb 203 02.11.2009 13:39:27 Semi-public discourse in the 1995 focus groups: “Well I’d say – morally yes, financially no” Official hegemonic attitudes towards “compensation” in political speeches are not necessarily reflected in semi-public discourse. To investigate these attitudes, focus groups interviews were held in both 1995 and 2006. In 1995, criticism of the inadequate levels of “com- pensation” for victims of National Socialism, and also of the failure to properly deal with the past, occurred in all seven focus groups in five Austrian regional states. Around one third of the participants expressed a firm conviction that Austria was still responsible for the victims of National Socialism at the time of the interviews: Austria was seen as having moral and material obligations, and in any case there was a legal right for victims, not least because this kind of injustice would never come under any statue of limitations. Other participants stated that although there was a “duty to compensate” victims, the important thing from the present perspective was that history should never repeat itself, that “something like this should never happen again”. However, even the argument that material reparations were actually beneath (their/our) dignity was put forward. A further step in shifting responsibility follows the typical “yes-but” argumentative pattern, and is introduced by one participant with the phrase “morally yes, but financially?” Well I say morally yes, financially no – what can I do if my grandfather or father [. . .] if he was in some – with some – he was certainly not with them voluntarily – but I don’t see why our generation or – the generation after us – should still pay financial compensation. The emphasis on differences between generations (grandparents and current) is noticeable here. Another participant supports the argument that the “duty to compensate” should be limited because Austria is well-known for helping where help is needed: so like I said good contacts to this country and when people are needy there, help where it is needed – places where maybe in the meantime a lot of money has been gathered one does not feel morally – and now he wants to collect capital from it I would say – we don’t have to do it there. 204 Justice and Memory.indb 204 02.11.2009 13:39:27 It is noteworthy that here, and in general in discussion of the Nazi period, the topic has become such a taboo that the terms “Jew” or “Israel” rarely occur. The principal victims of Nazi crimes are vaguely referred to as “that country” or “those people”. Additionally, the final utterance of the above contribution draws implicitly on the ancient and established anti-Semitic stereotype of “Jewish prosperity”. A fifth of the participants clearly rejected the notion of a “duty to compensate”. For example, one interviewee from Burgenland stated that “we already had to pay enough after the State Treaty. We had to deliver oil for I don’t know which (occupying xxxx) we had to give up heaps already. I don’t know how long this should continue”. He follows this by equating all victims and drawing parallels between them, before excluding Jewish victims of National Socialism from the category of Austrians: well I would say / well we have to (actually differently) do everything consistently. If we count there were enough Austrians in the concentration camp / and / and (returners) and they get nothing and some children of (xxxx) (get nothing). Well I don’t think that’s right. On two occasions, participants who do recognise Austria’s responsi- bilities in this area raise the issue of “compensation” for the exiled Sudeten Germans. This strategy of drawing parallels is also found in many of the FPÖ speeches (see above). What I would maybe also find important would be that we / in many countries in Europe they have still not dealt with the past, so that also / when I look at Italy – where the Neofascists are sitting in the parliament again – and actually that isn’t talked about either - - or in Czech Republic where then in / in / in the course of freeing the Czech Republic from the Nazis the Sudeten Germans were driven away and there is no talk of reparations there. In summary, in the focus group discussions held in 1995, the under- standings of “compensation” and the laws pertaining to victims of National Socialism were somewhat distorted. A small proportion of the participants even held the view that descendents of the victims, especially those “abroad”, sought to profit from the “compensation”. This corresponds to the well-known anti-Semitic stereotype of the “avaricious and money-grubbing Jew”. These attitudes vary widely 205 Justice and Memory.indb 205 02.11.2009 13:39:27 in the focus groups based on the age, class and educational back- ground of the participants. A further finding is that the boundaries between different groups of victims (concentration camp victims, “civilians” harmed by the war, fallen Wehrmacht soldiers, exiled “ethnic Germans”, etc.) are blurred. Sometimes a highly artificial distinction between the victims of National Socialism and “Austrians” is constructed, and thus Austrians Jews are turned into just “Jews”. They are discursively stripped of their Austrian citizenship, much as was the case legally when racist laws (for example the Nuremberg Laws) were instituted during the Nazi regime. On the question of “compensation”, although some participants fully acknowledged Austria’s responsibilities, half the participants in some way endorsed the following view: “Co-responsibility and compensation yes, but not material and financial, only moral”. 2005: “How far back should we go? Should it be the Thirty Years’ War? As part of our investigation into the commemorative events of 2005, we held two further focus group interviews in Vienna in early 2006. One took place in a senior citizens’ centre, the other in a grammar school. Both groups could be characterised as rather left-of-centre po- litically. Like in the 1995 focus groups, we raised the issue of Austria’s “duty to compensate” the victims of the National Socialist regime 60 years after the end of the war. The group of senior citizens may have had a rather atypical composi- tion for their generation, since two of the participants were themselves victims of National Socialism. One participant, a retired journalist, had to break off his school education and was not allowed to pursue higher education, and commented on this as follows: “I might have become something, I’m happy with what I became.” Another partici- pant, an artist, had to flee Austrian in 1938 since she was Jewish, and could not therefore take up a scholarship she was due to receive at the Music Academy. She also expressed regret that she had not been able to receive the education that was rightfully hers (“my career was destroyed”). The two groups expressed very different views on the issue of “compensation” for injustices and property stolen during the Nazi regime. The senior citizens almost all expressed the opinion that 206 Justice and Memory.indb 206 02.11.2009 13:39:27 restitution was still necessary and justified. As the retired journalist said: “As long as the demands are justified”. Only one woman, who was two at the end of the war, expressed her ambivalence. She agreed that there should “well, partly be compensation, but I wonder, if out of the time when I was an infant, two years old, some time one has to stop, well, that is what I think about that.” The aforementioned artist recounted (“me as a victim . . .”) that she came to Vienna in 1945 and was offered a ridiculously low amount of money for her flat, which she rejected, and a pension for seven years. She had to top up the rest of her pension herself. Despite this history, she was not entirely sure whether it would not be better to end the discussion: “And I do say sometimes it is enough now – one always talks about compensation and horrid things, but maybe it is good though – to keep it in view for the new, the third generation.” The journalist reported that he had been issued a restitution pay- ment from the “National Fund” without having applied for it, and that it pained him that an ÖVP-FPÖ government had managed this when Social Democratic governments had failed to do so for so many decades. He relates this to attempts to improve the government’s im- age abroad, after international criticism, and states that he thought the “duty to compensate” remained as long as there were legitimate claims. Also, he thought the issue would resolve itself over time, and that the government had largely fulfilled its responsibilities. Another participant responded to this by saying that when a survivor is found, there should be an immediate payment and not a long, drawn-out process, while a third felt that there should be payments as long as there were inheritance laws. It seems she meant by this that the in- heritors of those who profited from property theft should also be liable. The typical argumentation pattern found in discussions on this topic, that “there has to be an end at some point”, was only alluded to once in this group, in combination with the assertion that there were some survivors who might illegitimately seek “compensation”. In the group of school pupils, the discussion progressed on far more ambivalent lines. On the one hand, a somewhat idiosyncratic trade unionist and critic of globalisation firmly supported the restitution process. One pupil described “Aryanisation” as “theft” – using the infamous Klimt paintings as an example. Two other participants were also in favour of restitution, and one draws parallels with Germans 207 Justice and Memory.indb 207 02.11.2009 13:39:27 in the Czech Republic or Austrians in Bohemia and Moravia after the Second World War. For these groups, however, he felt it was not so important that their property should be returned: And it is exactly the same thing with for example the Germans who remained in the Czech Republic, were also thrown out after the Second World War. And and and well also Austrians in Bohemia and Moravia and so on, there were also all thrown out and with them it for example is not so important for me that they get their things back necessarily . . . However, a long discussion along the lines of the “Yes, but . . .” pat- tern soon followed, mostly dominated by one participant who stated the following: Yes so in a certain way it is of course true that the / that it is principally always prop- erty again, and that it actually / well of course a claim on it, to have it back, but only first, as X said, if they haven’t needed it in the past sixty years, why do they need it now, if it’s in a museum anyway, and another point is, I mean, in Switzerland, I don’t know how many Jews had their bank accounts there, and they all belong to some Swiss people now, and they aren’t small sums of money, they are very large sums, and they were of course also not returned. This argument is also repeatedly used by other participants: they ask why pictures like Klimt’s Adele should be returned, when “they” [sic!] had no need for them in the past decades. The comparison with Swiss bank accounts that have also not been returned is also often ac- companied by the argument that the money had already been passed on to the next generation (with the implication that the beneficiaries could not possibly be asked to give back their inheritance). One participant is initially favourably inclined towards restitution, but then abruptly changes the subject and draws parallels (in the form of a question to the others) to the possible return of Palestinian territories by Israel. His hesitant delivery indicates uncertainty about the topic: Well I also think, they should generally be compensated, um, and I want to briefly mention here the topic Palestine, Israel, what you all think well, it is also / it is also the case that, um, Israel / how many years ago was that? Was founded there, in Palestine, and now/ and now there is again the / yeah, it’s approximately / is approximately this period, yes, um, now there’s the question again, should/ who 208 Justice and Memory.indb 208 02.11.2009 13:39:27 does this country belong to now for example. And, um, should the Israelis give back land to the Palestinians or not, and / because they did live there before, what do you think about this? Subsequently, the discussion reaches the question of whether there should not be an end at some point, again very carefully constructed as a question to the group. This is also accompanied by an instance of hyperbole – asking whether the Thirty Years’ War should form the limit of how far back restitution should go. The return of South Tyrol to Austria is also brought into play. Well, that’s exactly my question, how far back should we go? Should the / should it be only the Second World War? Should it be the First? Should it / should it be the Thirty Years’ War? How / How many wars should we make reparations for? Only one pupil, himself from a Jewish family opposed these dehistori- cised and inaccurate parallels. He stated that one could not compare Sudeten Germans with Jews, and that the Czechs had not murdered six million Sudeten Germans. Yes, but I think that / you can’t compare the Sudeten Germans who were driven out, with the Jews who were driven out. I mean, Sudeten Germans became victims when they lost their property, but Jews were already victims before that. There were not six million Sudeten Germans murdered by the Jews, or even by the Czechs. Finally, it is noteworthy that there were clear differences between the two groups in 2006 despite the rather critical and left-wing orientation of both groups. The younger generation is mostly rather restrictive in their understanding of the limits of restitution, although they do not openly oppose “compensation” as such. These sceptical positions are carefully packaged in questions, but in the end untenable parallels are drawn, and the argument that nothing need be returned because it has not been needed up to now by the victims is earnestly put forward – an obvious fallacy of constructing a false causality (post hoc – propter hoc). Because of the restricted amount of data, it is impossible to give a definitive answer to the question of how similar the patterns found in semi-public discourse are to those found in public discourse and media texts. However, it is also impossible to reject the notion that insidious right-wing propaganda may have been recontextualised, disseminated and have found much resonance. On the whole, the 209 Justice and Memory.indb 209 02.11.2009 13:39:28 semi-public discourse shows more pointed formulations than those found in public, quasi-ritualised discourse on “compensation”. Concluding remarks Public, hegemonic, and especially semi-public discourse on the issue of restitution in Austria in the last 15 years frequently employs the argumentation pattern “yes, but . . .” Politicians rarely thematise this issue during commemorative events, and when they do it is usually on occasions where the issue might have particular significance (for example commemoration events at the Mauthausen concentration camp, an address to the Hebrew University by Chancellor Franz Vranitzky upon receipt of an honorary doctorate on June 9th, 1993, a speech to the UN by State Secretary Franz Morak on January 24th, 2005). Austria’s responsibility for restitution may be acknowledged on these occasions, but the speeches are invariably used for positive self-presentation and to justify the decades-long periods of inaction. One exception is the instrumentalisation of restitution in the Vien- nese elections in 2001 by the FPÖ. Here, the speakers attempted to criminalise the president of the Jewish Community, Ariel Muzikant, to put restitution as a whole in a bad light, again an obvious fallacy of equating the non-equitable and a metonymic device of positioning the current president of the Jewish community Muzikant as pars pro toto with past Jewish victims and survivors of the Holocaust. The focus group discussions held in the years 1995 and 2006 present a cross-section of semi-public discourse on restitution in Aus tria. A group of senior citizens in 2006 shows a marked difference to all the other groups: two of the participants describe themselves as victims of National Socialism. Our analysis of the focus group data has illustrated that only a minority of the participants unequivocally supports the principle that stolen property should be restored in all cases. The majority, however, does not usually explicitly reject the idea; rather, they employ argumentative patterns and strategies, and many fallacies that relativise Austrian responsibility by drawing paral- lels between different historical events, even if these parallels are not warranted. They also bring in absurd arguments to reject the idea of material, financial restitution (“morally yes, but . . .”, “they” have 210 Justice and Memory.indb 210 02.11.2009 13:39:28 not “needed” it up to now, . . .). It is particularly astonishing – and worrying – that a group of generally progressive youths interviewed in 2006 should, despite the 2005 events dedicated to commemoration and reflection (the “Gedankenjahr”) use such relativising and trivial- ising strategies when discussing the restitution of stolen property and of Nazi crimes. Parallels are drawn with “compensation” for the Sudeten Germans, with a failure to “deal with the past” in other countries, with the policies of Israel regarding Palestine. Disguised as a question about how far back we should go, this group indirectly seeks an “end to the debate” and constructs a vague homogeneous group of “victims” without asking the relevant question of: who was a victim when, where, and why? Notes 1 We thank Johnny Unger for translating our paper. This paper draws on, and elaborates DE CILLIA, WODAK 2008 which was published in a catalogue ac- companying the exhibition curated by Alexandra Reininghaus, Recollecting. Raub und Restitution. This exhibition thematised the “Aryanisation” of Jewish goods 1938. 2 WODAK, DE CILLIA et al. 1998; WODAK, DE CILLIA, REISIGL, LIEBHART 1999 [2009], DE CILLIA and WODAK 2009. 3 The term “Wiedergutmachung”, meaning “compensation” or literally “making good again”, must be seen as a cynical euphemism, which ultimately serves only to easy guilty consciences by seeming to promise something completely unattainable. 4 See PELINKA, WODAK 2002; WODAK, REISIGL 2002. 5 See HEER, MANOSCHEK et al. 2003, 2008. 6 See Falter, 15.6.1995, p. 9. 7 Minutes of the 40th session of the National Council of the Republic of Austria, p. 62. 8 See BAILER 1995. 9 Minutes of the 40th session of the National Council of the Republic of Austria, p. 56. 10 ibid, p. 56. 11 ibid, p. 69. 12 BECKERMANN 1995. 13 See KNIGHT 1988. 14 All the quotations in context can be found in WODAK, REISIGL 2002; see also WODAK 2007. 15 Note that “Ariel” is a well-known detergent/cleaning agent in Austria. 16 See KNIGHT 1988. 211 Justice and Memory.indb 211 02.11.2009 13:39:28 Bibliography B. BAILER, Die unwürdige Diskussion über den NS-Opfer-Fonds, in Kurier, 1.6.1995. R. BECKERMANN, Die Würde des Opferkollektivs, in Die Gemeinde, 16. Juni 1995. R. DE CILLIA, R. WODAK (Eds.), Gedenken im „Gedankenjahr“. Zur diskursiven Konstruktion österreichischer Identitäten im Jubiläumsjahr 2005, Wien–Innsbruck: Studien Verlag, 2009. R. DE CILLIA, R. WODAK, Restitution: Ja, aber . . ., in A. REINING- HAUS (ed.), Recollecting. Raub und Restitution, Wien: Passagen Verlag, 2009, p. 243–258. H. HEER, W. MANOSCHEK, A. POLLAK, R. WODAK (eds.), Wie Geschichte gemacht wird. Zur Konstruktion von Erinnerungen an We- hrmacht und Zweiten Weltkrieg, Wien: Czernin, 2003. H. HEER, W. MANOSCHEK, A. POLLAK, R. WODAK (eds.), The Discursive Construction of History. Remembering the Wehrmacht’s War of Annihilation, Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008. R. KNIGHT, Ich bin dafür, die Sache in die Länge zu ziehen. Die Wort- protokolle der österreichischen Bundesregierung von 1945–1952 über die Entschädigung der Juden, Frankfurt/M.: Athenäum, 1988. A. PELINKA, R. WODAK (eds.), „Dreck am Stecken”. Politik der Aus- grenzung. Wien: Czernin, 2002. M. REISIGL, R. WODAK, Discourse and Discrimination, London: Routledge, 2001. R. WODAK, M. REISIGL, „Wenn einer Ariel heisst . . .“, in A. PELIN- KA, R. WODAK 2002, p. 134–172. R. WODAK, R. DE CILLIA, M. REISIGL, K. LIEBHART, K. HOF- STÄTTER, M. KARGL, Zur diskursiven Konstruktion nationaler Identität, Frankfurt/Main: Suhrkamp, 1998. R. WODAK, R. DE CILLIA, M. REISIGL, K. LIEBHART, The dis- cursive construction of national identities, Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1999/2009. R. WODAK‚ Pragmatics and Critical Discourse Analysis, in Pragmatics and Cognition 1 (3), 2007, p. 203–225. 212 Justice and Memory.indb 212 02.11.2009 13:39:28 Spoken Silence – Bridging Breaks. The Discursive Construction of Historical Continuities and Turning Points in Austrian Commemorative Speeches by Rhetorical Tropes Martin Reisigl 1. Introduction The two oxymora and alliterations in the title of my contribution get to the heart of the phenomenon that politicians – as orators of politi- cal speeches – at times eloquently, hide and bridge incising historical breaks. They do this for the purpose of a specific identity polity, linguistically constructing and representing historical continuity. In their narratives of a national history, they compose a political (for example national) identity with the help of the narrative principle of concordance1, integrating various incongruities, fractures and dif- ferences into a coherent and temporally unified sequence of related actions, processes and events, although this counterfactual integrative unity contradicts “historical truth”, which – to a large extent – relates to historical breaks and upheavals as well.2 Amongst the many means that serve the narrative demand of concordance and facilitate the discursive construction of historical continuity, as well as of historical change, we can identify a series of content-related rhetorical figures traditionally called “tropes”. Tropes, such as metaphors, metonymies and synecdoches, are not just rhetorical adornments but rather function as elementary cognitive principles which – often unconsciously – shape and structure human perception and thinking. In the present text, attention will be especially directed to rhetorical tropes that are employed for the linguistic establishment of person- related, temporal and spatial continuity. Particular interest will be paid to the “synecdoche” trope. In the given context, I examine and illustrate the relevance of various synecdoches (especially temporal synecdoches) for the rhetorical construction of historical continuities and bridges that silence historical ruptures. The empirical focus will 213 Justice and Memory.indb 213 02.11.2009 13:39:28 be on Austrian commemorative speeches given on the occasion of the official observation of the foundation of the Republic of Austria in November 1918. Most of the analysed pieces of text will be taken selec- tively from speeches given during “Joint Commemorative Sittings of the Austrian National and Federal Council” (Gemeinsame Festsitzungen des österreichischen National- und Bundesrates). It is the aim of the article to demonstrate the analytical scope of the tropological concept of the synecdoche for political language use and to make critical political presuppositions, which often remain unquestioned, transparent. One of these presuppositions is the implication that the Republic of Austria existed uninterruptedly from its foundation in November 12, 1918, until the moment of commemoration. This presupposition is verbalised through a temporal “rounding-up synecdoche” (all years from 1918 until the moment of speaking stand for most of the years), which rhetorically tapes over the tragic historical breaks of the 1930s and 1940s, thus creating an image of Austria with a permanent re- publican type of state and form of government. In addition to my focus on figures that rhetorically superimpose historical continuities over historical fractures, various tropes refer- ring to radical historical changes and breaks (for example the natu- ralising metaphor of catastrophe) come into the field of analytical view as well. The article is divided into three parts. The first part focuses on general functions of rhetorical tropes and especially synecdoches. The second part discusses striking passages of the commemorative speeches and identifies rhetorical means employed in these speech fragments in order to construct historical continuity and change. I will conclude with some critical remarks on the most problematic dis- cursive strategies of constructing historical continuities and turning points in the commemorative speeches and on how the anniversary could be remembered more adequately in future. 2. Functions of rhetorical tropes in political discourses, with special attention to synecdoches Tropes are figures of speech that involve a turn of meaning, that is to say, a linguistic transference from one conceptual sphere to an- 214 Justice and Memory.indb 214 02.11.2009 13:39:28 other.3 Metaphors, metonymies and synecdoches are among the most important tropes. A metaphor is a turn of meaning that establishes a similarity between two different semantic domains. A metonymy is a turn of meaning that is based on a shift which involves two semanti- cally (and materially, causally, or cognitively) neighbouring fields of reference: a name of a referent stands for the name of another referent, which semantically (abstractly or concretely) borders on the referent of the name. A synecdoche, finally, is a turn of meaning that involves a shift within one and the same semantic field, in the sense that a term is represented by another term, the extension of which is either semantically narrower or semantically wider.4 As rhetorical means of political persuasion aiming to construct, re- produce, represent, transform and destruct political “reality”, tropes fulfil numerous functions. Regarding the representational function of language, tropes facili- tate (a) the construction of political facts, for example via container metaphors or allegories like the house or ship metaphor/allegory referring to a political unity such as a state, (b) the reduction of complexities by simplistic categorisation and imaginary representa- tion of political “reality”, for example via spatial metaphors such as “inside” versus “outside” or “top/above” versus “bottom/down”, (c) the vivifying, personification and illustration of abstract or vague political ideas, for example via anthropomorphising and animalising metaphors, (d) the selective highlighting of particular qualities of political entities or “reality” sectors, for example via particularising synecdoches, and (e) the obscuring or hiding of specific political aspects, actors or actions, for example via metonymies that represent persons by place names.5 Within the realms of the interpersonal function of language, tropes are utilised (a) to promote the identification with political actors (for example leaders, parties, states or nations) as well as with their political aims and ideologies, for example via the metaphor of the centre relating to a particular nation state within a union of states, (b) to promote in-group solidarity, for example via family or kinship metaphors referring to the imagined community of a nation or of politically united nations, (c) to support out-group segregation and discrimination, for example via spatial metaphors implying strict frontiers or deprecating animalising metaphors like parasite, rat and 215 Justice and Memory.indb 215 02.11.2009 13:39:28 vermin referring to “outgroups”, (d) to generate a feeling of secu- rity by suggesting stability and order, for example via construction metaphors like the fortress referring to a state or union of states such as the EU, (e) to spread a feeling of insecurity by suggesting chaos, disorder, danger and threat, for example via flood or inundation metaphors referring to immigrants, (f) to justify or de-legitimise specific political actions or their omission, for example via metaphors of gain or price relating to the consequences of a specific action or omission of action, and (g) to mobilise political adherents to perform particular actions, for example via inciting militarising metaphors and dehumanising metaphors relating to “the enemy”.6 2.1 Synecdoches Synecdoches are – as already explained – turns of meaning within one and the same semantic field: a term is represented by another term, the extension of which is either semantically broader or semantically narrower.7 According to the direction of representation, particularising syn- ecdoches are distinguished from singularising synecdoches.8 The particularising synecdoche consists of a semantically wider concept representing a semantically narrower concept. Three main subtypes of particularising synecdoches are (1) pars pro toto, that is the part stands for the whole (“Bush [representing the US-Americans] will not win the war in Afghanistan.”); (2) singularis pro plurale, that is the singular stands for the plural (“The Austrian is lachrymose and querulous.”); and (3) species pro genus, that is the species stands for the genus (“He spends his last penny on books [‘penny’ stands for ‘money’]”). The generalising synecdoche is composed of a semantically wider concept that stands for a semantically narrower concept. Three main subtypes of these synecdoches are (4) totum pro parte, that is the whole stands for the part (“Italy will be excluded from the games for corrup- tion” [this synecdoche is also a metonymy]); (5) pluralis pro singulare, that is the plural stands for the singular (“We [representing a single person] do not agree with this proposal.”); and (6) genus pro specie, that is the genus stands for the species (“Humanity has to make a greater effort to solve all these problems.”). 216 Justice and Memory.indb 216 02.11.2009 13:39:28 Both particularising and generalising synecdoches often function as a means of referential incorporation and assimilation. They fre- quently serve stereotypical generalisation and play a fundamental role in polity, policy and politics, to begin with party names that selectively highlight striking traits of the party.9 The American rhetorician Kenneth Burke stated already 40 years ago that every act of social representation and every theory of political representation relies on a synecdochic relationship.10 The table11 on the following page illustrates how the tropological concept of the synecdoche can formally be sub-specified beyond the existing differentiations. The question of whether and how a political system of representa- tion assumes a democratic structure or not is controlled by various provisions. Systems of political representation are regulated by rules that control who is entitled to be a political representative and who decides on the question of who will be a representative (active and pas- sive right to vote), by a procedure of politically enabling somebody to be a representative (direct or indirect democracy), by measures that fix the conditions under which the relationship of representation is, can or must be dissolved or confirmed (representation for a set time), and by conventions that define the way in which representatives are com- mitted to those who are represented (free or imperative mandate). Political systems are dynamically shaped into various layers of politi- cal representation and inclusion: Depending on the political system, the highest level of political representation is reserved for impera- tors, kings and queens (monarchy), states’ presidents and chancel- lors (republic and democracy) or dictators (totalitarian dictatorship). Depending on the level of super- or subordination and inclusion, one and the same politician represents more or less persons, citizens or groups of voters. That is to say: On a lower level of inclusion, a politician (for example a party leader) may represent all members or a majority of a specific group or political organisation, while she or he just represents a minority on a higher level of the system. This dynamics of variable degrees of representation and all the factors just mentioned should be considered in a tropological model of political representation.12 These basic observations on the significance of rhetorical tropes, and especially synecdoches, in polity, policy and politics lead to the 217 Justice and Memory.indb 217 02.11.2009 13:39:29 x represents y persons all most one many some/several all most some/several many one particularising all synecdoches most many some/several one all many most some/several one most many generalising all some/several synecdoches one objects everything most of it one thing much/a lot something everything most of it something much/a lot one thing particularising everything synecdoches most of it much/a lot something one thing everything much/a lot most of it something one thing most of it much/a lot generalising everything something synecdoches one thing Justice and Memory.indb 218 02.11.2009 13:39:29 main part of the present article, in which I discuss the employment of rhetorical tropes in the construction of historical continuities and turning points. 3. The discursive construction of historical continuities and tur ning points in commemorative speeches given on the occasion of the foundation of the Republic of Austria in November 1918 In the following, I will just draw attention to particular segments of the “republican” Austrian commemorative speeches and cannot do justice to these speeches by analysing their entire contents and structures, since such a study would easily fill a whole book. A second precau- tionary remark has to be made for the readers. The specific political occasion on which most of these speeches about the foundation of the Austrian Republic were given – after 1945 – implies a historical overall scope that is much broader than the years of Austro-fascism and National Socialist dictatorship. The time of National Socialism is one of several historical periods these speeches deal with or can deal with. Thus, there are groups of Austrian commemorative speeches – such as speeches commemorating the “Anschluss in 1938”, the end of the World War II and especially the liberation of Nazi victims imprisoned in concentration camps – that focus more on the topic of National Socialism. However, the speeches in question delivered after 1945 can be expected to relate to National Socialism at least to a certain extent. Furthermore, it can be assumed that these speeches make the Austro- fascist dictatorship a subject of discussion – a dark period in history which interrupted the republican history of Austria for several years in addition to the National Socialist break. It is especially these two assumptions which deserve to be investigated more closely. 1928 (10th anniversary) After World War I, the Habsburg Empire declined over several weeks. In autumn 1918, the political disintegration led to the foundation of the small and primarily German speaking state “Deutschösterreich” as a democratic republic, although most of the politicians of the newly formed state had mixed feelings about the question of political 219 Justice and Memory.indb 219 02.11.2009 13:39:29 independence from other German speaking parts of Europe. This ambivalence flowed into a law that defined the new state, which the Allies did not allow to become a part of a greater German state. The declaration of the new Austrian republic on November 12 in 1918 was accompanied by riots that left two persons dead and injured many more. This violence related to the forced prevention of protesting communists from entering the house of parliament in order to ar- ticulate their demand for a socialist republic governed by workers’ councils.13 In April 1919, the 12th November was established as a “state holiday” (“Staatsfeiertag”), but during the following years, official festivities developed only hesitantly on the respective anniversaries. The date did not become a day of public commemorative demonstration of political consent, cohesion and unity.14 In autumn 1928, ten years after the foundation of the Republic of Austria, the first State Chancellor of the First Austrian Republic, Karl Renner, narrates in retrospect the political developments after the First World War as follows: (1) When all the German representatives of the old Austria came together for the constitutive National Assembly, they nominated me as first State Chancellor. Amidst the revolutionary storms of the collapse, the task fell upon me to establish a new state order over the ruins of the old one; and achieving this, avoiding any destruc- tion, any human sacrifice and in the greatest harmony possible for all citizens, was my endeavour. Therefore, I united bourgeois citizens, farmers and workers into a coalition government, in order to banish the Bolshevik danger impending from both Hungary and Bavaria and also to return inner peace to the country as soon as possible. [. . .] In the midst of permanent inner disturbances and external threat, in spite of the enormous aggravations caused by the material and mental consequences of the World War, the entire economic, social and intellectual life of our people was renewed in the short period of two years. What has made these extraordinary achievements possible? The parties were brought together by a government devoted to the people’s freedom and people’s welfare and filled with the spirit of understanding and collaboration.15 The naturalising metaphor of “the revolutionary storms of the col- lapse” and the metaphor of the “ruins of the old state order” here serve as rhetorical, tropological means of representing the historical break and change after the First World War. In the second paragraph of this quotation, Renner presents the comprehensive reconfiguration 220 Justice and Memory.indb 220 02.11.2009 13:39:29 of the Austrian economic, social and intellectual life after the War in the linguistic form of a factual narrative, which suggests – by gram- matical mode and tense (indicative and simple past) – a successful political renewal in just two years. This view was far too optimistic and wishful thinking. Only a few years after Renner’s speech, the Austro-fascists were to take over power and abolish the democratic Republic of Austria, substituting an authoritarian corporate state for it and, only ten years after these words, the political developments led to the “Anschluss” in March 1938. As a consequence, no official political commemoration of the foundation of the Austrian Republic took place in November 1938. The 12th of November was democratically commemorated for the last time in 1932. In 1933, the authoritarian regime banned social- democratic demonstrations on the anniversary of the foundation of the Republic. Nevertheless, the Social Democrats organised a “walk” on 12 November, during which Karl Renner and more than two hun- dred other Social Democrats were arrested. In 1934, the Austro-fascist decree issued on 27 April fixed the 1st of May as the day on which the proclamation of the constitution of the corporate state (Ständestaat) should officially be commemorated. At the same time, 12 November was abolished as the “state’s holiday”. Four days after this decree, on 1 May, Chancellor Engelbert Dollfuß proclaimed the Austro-fascist constitution, which remained in force until the National Socialists incorporated Austria into the Third Reich.16 As will be shown in the following, it is the Austro-fascist interruption of the republican history of Austria, as well as the prolongation of this interruption by the National Socialist dictatorship from March 1938 until April 1945, which are frequently silenced or back-grounded with the help of temporal synecdoches and other tropes in most of the respective “republican” commemorative speeches delivered after 1945. 1948 (30th anniversary) Three years after the end of World War II, on the occasion of the 30th anniversary, it is once again Renner who – now as the first President of the Second Austrian Republic – highly poetically looks back on the tragic history of the First Republic and the successful re-foundation of 221 Justice and Memory.indb 221 02.11.2009 13:39:29 the Republic in 1945. In a radio speech, Renner rhetorically endows continuity with the help of an allegory based on the personification of the republican form of state and government: (2) Born in the painful birth pangs of a world war and, after a few years of a tenacious fight for existence, buried alive together with others under the boots of a conqueror, after a Second World War, resurrected from bodily exhaustion and mental aberra- tion, our Republic has energetically worked its way up to new life in the short span of barely four years. It is here again and, even more: difficult experiences have purified it, clarified its thinking and made its will unerring. We are proud to have [. . .] established a de- mocracy of indisputable purity in our country. Therefore, the Republic of Austria does not present itself without justified self-as- surance as celebrant of the jubilee, and it desires nothing more than the end of being left before the gates of the palace of world peace with the desire of entrance. The Austrian knocks on these gates, not like a beggar, but in the awareness that it is unjust to make him wait any longer [. . .]. Truly, the four major powers have sat in judgement on us long enough, they have recognised that a Republic that was buried alive could not be guilty, they have made sure of the fact that we ourselves have judged – and will continue to judge – all the unfortunate single persons who were accomplices to the crimes that happened. And no power in the world can deny that we possess the force and skill to rule ourselves, no person of insight can consider it to be wise confining in its strait room a long- cured body to the observation of four orderlies – and major powers, at that – for many years. We feel it in every muscle and nerve: the Republic of Austria is healthy; it, therefore, wants to engage freely in the community of free peoples, to pacifically collaborate in this and, in this way, joyfully care for itself.17 In this flowery piece of text, Renner utilises various metaphors to represent historical change, to bridge historical breaks and to exon- erate Austrians from the guilt of participating in National Socialist crimes. The metaphor of birth both presupposes change (a new, innocent creature is delivered) and continuity (this creature, the Austrian Republic, lives its life). The metaphorical or allegoric personification presupposes the continuity of a human life. This life – in our case the “life” of the Republic – bridges historical breaks. The Republic did not die, but was buried alive. The metaphor of being buried alive under the boots of the National Socialist conqueror creates an impression of passivity and victimisation for the Austrians and has an exculpating argumentative function. This metaphor implicitly carries the argumentation scheme called “topos of heteronomy”.18 222 Justice and Memory.indb 222 02.11.2009 13:39:30 The living metaphor prevails in the overall-allegoric structure of the quotation. Two metaphors that can also be subsumed under the allegory are the metaphors of illness, mental aberration, recovering, orderlies and health. These metaphors also have an exonerating quality, since they presuppose that the Austrian Republic was sick, a patient, and thus had to suffer. Obviously, such a pathologising metaphorical representation shifts the accountability, or most of it, to a disease-causing agent. Interestingly, the exonerating metaphor of recovery was also utilised in 1948 by Leopold Kunschak, the then president of the National Council. In his commemorative speech given at the joint sitting of the National and Federal Assembly on 12 November, Kunschak ut- tered: (3) In the last three years, the liberated Republic has articulated a recovery of will to life and vitality, which lets us hope most firmly that – if the liberated Austria becomes a free Austria – this latter will flow into an era of new felicitous life. After thirty years of existence of the Republic of Austria, you, Mister President [that is Karl Renner, M.R.], stand – like a strong guarantor – as the highest official at the head of the mightily up-and-coming Republic.19 Here we note that Kunschak presupposes that the Republic had existed for thirty years, ignoring that there was not republican state form and government in Austria from 1934 to 1945. I will come back to this synecdochic rounding up, which rhetorically creates continuity and bridges or gets over the historical breaks, in a moment. 1968 (50th anniversary) In 1958, there was no official commemoration in parliament of the 40th anniversary of the proclamation of the Austrian Republic. Ten years later, in 1968, on the occasion of the 50th anniversary of the passing of the Act on the Austrian Democratic Republic, the then President Franz Jonas, quite clearly explains: (4) The Republic of Austria has lived under abnormal state and constitutional con- ditions for almost half of its 50 years of existence – 22 entire years passed from the elimination of the National Council in March 1933 until the re-establishment of full sovereignty in the year 1955.20 223 Justice and Memory.indb 223 02.11.2009 13:39:30 Here again, we find a personified Austrian Republic that lives a life. Despite his explicit reference to the abnormal 22 years, Jonas seems to presuppose the continuous existence when he speaks of the “50- jährigen Bestand”. The President also verbalises this presupposition in the following quotation from his speech, where he presents the Austrian status quo of the year 1968 highly positively. He imagines – once more – an anthropomorphic republic, when he utters: (5) On the occasion of its celebration of 50 years of existence, our Republic stands on firm feet. It is founded on the Austrian people’s commitment to their democratic homeland [Heimat, M.R], which was upheld and proven in the most grievous times; it is based on the country’s efficient economy, the research spirit of its scholars and artists and the healthy élan of its striving youth.21 Although Jonas’ first rhetorical aim is the positive self-presentation of Austria and the Austrian Republic, he also approaches the top- ics of civil war, Austro-fascism and National Socialism in a rather justifying way, although he explicitly, metalinguistically, pronounces himself against the silence: (6) We do not want to, and must not, remain silent about the tragic events of the year 1934. They meant the end of democracy and led to an additional alienation between the authoritarian government and the people. This inner conflict and the devastating economic crisis paralysed the force of resistance against National Socialism. Then, there was an inevitable consequence inherent in the further developments. The violent occupation by the Third Reich, the loss of the state existence, the integra- tion into the National Socialist machinery of war, the march into the concentration camps and prisons, the compulsion to participate in a senseless and criminal war of conquest, which our people never wanted, were the bitter stations of an Austrian way of the cross, which then lead to the gravest catastrophe of our history.22 Here, Jonas constructs a compulsory causal chain of events that led to the National Socialist dictatorship in Austria. He grammatically backgrounds the involved social actors – both perpetrators and victims – through a series of impersonal nominalizations (“force of resist- ance”, “occupation”, “loss”, “integration”, “march”, “compulsion of participation”). As far as his argumentation is concerned, Jonas employs – besides the causal topos or, strictly speaking, fallacy of co- erciveness and inevitability – the fallacy of victims and the fallacy of heteronomy. The victimisation is, among others, rhetorically intensi- 224 Justice and Memory.indb 224 02.11.2009 13:39:30 fied by the religious metaphor of “Austrian stations of the cross” and by the quasi-naturalising metaphor of the “gravest catastrophe”. After the exonerating sequence about the dark sides of the Austrian past, Jonas continues the positive self-presentation. With the help of the naturalising metaphor of “reanimation”, he deduces from “the painful common examinations and experiences” a “new, unusual force” propelling the “start of an Austrian reanimation process”: (7) This new force was awakened through the common painful examinations and experiences in the dark years of the dictatorship that was foreign to country and people alike. [. . .] The rebirth of Austria in April 1945 was initiated by an act of political and human greatness. A path of cooperation, transcending the trenches of the tragic past, was followed for the sake of the future of Austria.23 In this case we can, once more, identify the fallacy of heteronomy that shifts the Austrian responsibility to the German National Socialists. Apart from that, we recognise a reconciliatory militarist metaphor that has become very popular in commemorative speeches given in Austria in the last decades: the metaphor of the cooperation “tran- scending the trenches”, which establishes or represents social and political cohesion. In the same commemorative parliamentary sitting, the President of the National Council, Alfred Maleta, addressed the foundation of the democratic Republic of Austria as one of the “most significant turning points (tiefste Zäsuren) in the thousand year history of our people”. Maleta evokes the Austrian millenary myth relating to the first naming of the toponym “ostarrichi” in a deed of donation dat- ing from 99624. In addition to the civil war and the National Socialist cruelties, he derives the genesis of Austrian self-esteem essentially from the abolishment of the Austrian state and official toponymic substitution of “Ostmark” for “Austria”. (8) Two events in this long historical process have had an especially positive influ- ence on the political development of the state; they are the deplorable civil wars of the year 1934 and the extinction of the state in 1938. In the volleys of machine gun fire on the streets and in the concentration camps and jails, the Austrian recognised that, despite all its deficiencies, democracy is the most mature and most human form of state. And, in particular, the total extinction of the state, even of the name of Austria, was probably the most important cause for the Austrians to become aware of their self-esteem and independence.25 225 Justice and Memory.indb 225 02.11.2009 13:39:30 1978 (60th anniversary) In 1978, the 60th anniversary of the proclamation of the Republic was commemorated. In the joint parliamentary sitting, the then President of the National Council Anton Benya briefly referred to the histori- cal developments on the basis of the personificatory metaphor of a republican life story. After delineating the developments of the 1930s and 1940s, he concludes his observations positively with the topos of historia magistra vitae, which often has a mitigating quality. The topos of “history teaching lessons” frequently shifts the focus from the vic- tims to the “we-group” that has supposedly learnt from history26: (9) [. . .] despite various confidential contacts between Social Democrats and Christian Social politicians, it was not possible to construct a united front of defence; therefore the occupation of Austria by Hitler-Germany that occurred in March 1938 sealed the fate of the First Republic definitely. With this started the most terrible and saddest time in the 60 years history of our Republic, during which the cruelties of a totalitarian regime added to our country’s loss of independence and the horrors of the war. When the question of whether human beings learn anything from history is repeatedly asked by politicians and historians, the development of the Second Republic, in my view, allows us to give a positive answer, since many developments in the second half of the 60-year history of the life of our Republic can be understood as being lessons, well learnt, from the errors and aberrations of the First Republic.27 In view of the second part of the main title of my contribution I should remark that Benya twice explicitly employs the metaphor of bridge builders or building bridges with respect to the question of how to establish social, political and interpersonal cohesion in Austria. The passages containing the bridge metaphor are quoted as examples 10 and 11. In the quotation under 10, we can also identify the topos of learning and the metaphors of birth and cradle, from time to time utilised to endow a historical turning point with positive, exculpat- ing connotations, since a newborn is blameless, sweet and in need of help. In 11, Benya integrates the metaphor of building bridges into an optative demand: (10) The spirit of reconciliation and tolerance stood at the cradle of the Second Re- public. The master builders of the Second Republic, among them, Dr Karl Renner once again, as well as Figl, Schärf, Raab, Böhm, Kunschak and Seitz, had learnt, 226 Justice and Memory.indb 226 02.11.2009 13:39:30 from painful experience, the art of building bridges in the political, functional and human respect.28 (11) May the eventful fate of the Republic be an exhortation to avoid aberrations and construct bridges between the individual persons and groups of society, who all declare their support for this state.29 Of all the political orators on the anniversary, President Rudolf Kirchschläger is the clearest and most concrete with respect to the question of what happened to the Austrian Republic and its official designation in 1934, when the Austro-fascists introduced the “Federal State of Austria” instead of “Democratic Republic of Austria” and abolished the 12th of November as the “state’s holiday”: (12) Whoever ponders the six decades of Austrian history, cannot omit the years which, in 1933, led to the end of the parliamentary democracy and also to the so-called “Federal State of Austria” in 1934, the agencies of which both discarded the name “Republic of Austria” and abolished the 12th of November as the state’s holiday.30 However, despite this relative clarity, at a certain point in his speech, Kirchschläger also presupposed the continuous existence of the Re- public, when he congratulated the representatives of the National and Federal Council “on the day of the sixty-year existence of our Republic”.31 1993 (75th anniversary) Coming to the commemorative speeches given on 12 November 1993, we find several text segments that can critically be referred to for the demonstration of the analytical scope of the tropological concept of the synecdoche in the study of political language use. With respect to the question of political representation within the system of parliamentary democracy, the former president of the Aus- trian National Council, Heinz Fischer, in his speech, determines the synecdochic relationship among the whole and its parts as follows: (13) Ladies and gentlemen! The different parties are not only indispensable parts of the whole in the parliamentary democracy, but also majority and minority, govern- ment and opposition. The more clarification of this point and other sensitive areas of our political structures we provide, the better and more convincing we will be 227 Justice and Memory.indb 227 02.11.2009 13:39:30 able to respond to criticism and reproaches to policy, politicians and parties, which – by the way – are not exclusively a phenomenon of the present.32 Here, Fischer characterises the individual parties, as well as the majority, minority, government and opposition, from a democratic perspective as being parts of a political whole. By declaring not just the majority to be a vital part of the whole, but also the minority and opposition, Fischer supports an integrative understanding of democracy that acknowledges a differentiated synecdochic view which also recognises the political importance of numerically small parts. Fischer points out the difficulty of a purely synecdochic representa- tion when, in another sequence of his speech, he argues: (14) It is obvious that parliament and parties are no more faultless than the sum of the citizens of this country. However, my claim is that the political parties, which have the difficult function of summarising a multitude of different particular standpoints as alternatives for voting, cannot suit everybody ex definitione, and scarcely should do so, because they are just a part of the whole but, in sum, they represent indispensable elements of the pluralistic democracy.33 The former Austrian Chancellor, Franz Vranitzky, utilised a remark- able temporal synecdoche within the same parliamentary commemo- rative sitting. It is the specific generalising synecdoche in which the naming of the whole period stands for the major part of the period. Vranitzky generously takes the whole period of 75 years from 1918 to 1993 to represent the 64 (or 63) years of the actual existence of the Republic of Austria; that is to say, the years of the First Republic from November 1918 until May 1934 (strictly speaking: until March 1933, when the National Assembly met for the last time) and the years of the Second Republic from April 1945 until November 1993: (15) Indeed, there are quite a number of things resulting from the 75 years of its republican history up to now that have to be taken into consideration – particularly for the future of our country: [. . .]34 Interestingly, this type of temporal synecdoche was less frequently uttered in commemorative speeches during the first decades after the Second World War because, in these decades, the memory of the Nazi dictatorship and the Austro-fascist period was still too vivid (although often not verbalised). Thus, the historical breaks of the 228 Justice and Memory.indb 228 02.11.2009 13:39:31 1930s and the 1940s could not be ignored and rhetorically covered over with the ease observed in the 1990s, when the historical distance from the two pitch black periods was far greater and, therefore, the “magic of round numbers” could more easily unfold its force, thus serving the principles of a “nationalist dilatation of time”35 and “temporal smoothing”. The just mentioned temporal synecdoche used by Vranitzky in his speech in 1993 functions as a hyperbolical, magnifying rhetori- cal means that increases the importance of the specific occasion of commemoration; that is to say, the proclamation of the Republic 75 years before in 1918. This quantitative exaggeration, this rounding up, discursively constructs a continuity of existence of the republican type of state and form of government and thus bridges all historical political breaks. It is quite remarkable that Franz Vranitzky commits this objection- able temporal rounding up, in view of the fact that he is praised to the skies for having been the first Austrian politician to officially admit, before the National Assembly on 8 July 1991, the guilt of Austrians for National Socialist crimes – even though we must observe that his admission of guilt, which in the meantime has acquired canonical status, was linguistically quite mitigated.36 However, in the very same speech, Vranitzky – in his endeavour to construct historical continuity – absolutely paradoxically presumes to state: (16) [. . .] on a day like today we should also not forget this: Of the 75 years of its existence, this Republic was not a democracy for twelve years, from 1933 to 1945. For seven long years, years of terror, suppression and bondage, the name “Austria” even completely disappeared from the map.37 Despite all his criticism, the former chancellor, here, presupposes the existence of the Republic for the years from 1933 until 1945 as well. The positive political flag-word “republic” even survives the twelve years of the Austro-fascist and National Socialist dictatorship. Vranitzky even commits the same fault of synecdochic generalisation once more in his speech of 12 November 1993, when he asserts: (17) One of these big challenges, the Republic of Austria is facing in the 75th year of its existence, is the project of Europe.38 229 Justice and Memory.indb 229 02.11.2009 13:39:31 Not all speakers upheld this strange “idea of continuity”; in the com- memorative sitting in November 1993. The former Austrian president, Thomas Klestil, finds direct words against the temporal rounding up. He claims: (18) [. . .] it is undisputed that the Republic of Austria was born 75 years ago today, but nobody will seriously claim that 75 years of the Republic really lie behind us. For this, we are lacking the 17 years of National Socialism, of the war and the occupation, thus the loss of external freedom between 1938 and 1955. The five preceding years of internal lack of freedom under an antidemocratic-authoritarian leadership also contributed in a tragic manner to the loss of our independence.39 In this quotation, Klestil rhetorically employs the personifying meta- phor of birth and the metaphor of “lying behind us”. However, Klestil commits another remarkable synecdochic slip in this passage, which is quite usual for politicians of the Austrian People’s Party: In Klestil’s view of Austrian history, the five years of Austro-fascist repression between March 1933 and March 1938 are not unequivocally excluded from the years of a republican existence, although Klestil refers to the “internal lack of freedom” during these years. 1998 (80th anniversary) All in all, we notice a regress after Kirchschläger’s speech in 1978 with respect to the concrete mentioning of the abolishment of the republican name, but progress with respect to the question of mak- ing National Socialism and Austrian National Socialist perpetrators a concrete subject of the commemorative speeches. This development can also be observed in the speech given by the then President of the Federal Council, Alfred Gerstl, on 12 November, 1998: (19) Today, we are still in danger of just seeing the most prominent perpetrators and their victims when considering the events of March 1938. The silent majority, which was neither perpetrator nor victim, formed the frameworks of the specific Austrian collaboration with the National Socialist power. [. . .] For far too long, the victim thesis, of having been occupied in the year 1938, made a post-1945 policy possible that deprived the murdered, plundered and mercilessly persecuted of what human rights demand: justice! The suffering cannot be compen- sated for and, in no way, “made good again” [“wiedergutmachen”, M.R.]. But, justice is the indispensable basis for a life worthy of a human being.40 230 Justice and Memory.indb 230 02.11.2009 13:39:31 Nevertheless, a slightly mitigating tone is also inherent in Gerstl’s statement where he stresses the aspect of collaboration. This emphasis on the collaboration is reminiscent of the use of “sociative forma- tions”, that is to say, of words such as “Mitschuld” (“joint guilt”), “joint responsibility”, “complicity” and the verb “take part in”, lexical items very often used by Austrian politicians with respect to National Social- ism instead of simply and, in my view, morally correctly, speaking of “guilt” and “responsibility”. Such “sociative formations” always imply that there is a main guilt and a minor guilt. This wording clearly has a relativising effect. What prevails in all commemorative speeches on the foundation of the Austrian Republic in the last decades is the positive “collective” self-presentation in spite of references to negative aspects of the Austrian history. The strategic rhetorical potential of the dark sides of history for positive national self-presentation was also discovered by Heinz Fischer. In 1998, Heinz Fischer, the then President of the National Council, explicitly refers to the topos of comparison as a strategy of positive self-presentation, when claiming that it should be allowed to contrast the First Republic and the first years of the Second Republic with the last four or five decades of the Second Republic: (20) On the 80th birthday, it must be also permitted to refer to the many positive sides of our balance sheet, which become particularly apparent if we compare the first 30 or 40 years of our Republic with the last 40, 50 years of our history.41 Here, Fischer offers an unclear temporal boundary resulting from the ambivalence about the question of whether the period of occupation by the four allied powers from 1945 to 1955 should be added to the “bad” or the “good” decades of the Austrian history. This oscillation can be interpreted as a result of multi-addressing. Apart from this, we can observe with regard to Fischer that he does not make Austro- fascism a subject of his speech in 1998, that he briefly mentions the anti-Jewish pogroms in November 1938 (at this point, Fischer argues that the mitigating term “Reichskristallnacht“ should be replaced by the more adequate term “Reichspogromnacht”), and that he refers to omissions and delays with respect to questions of dealing with the National Socialist past and of restitution after 1945 in Austria, at- tributing these omissions, besides political and historical factors, to psychological reasons of an incapability to sorrow, speak and accuse, 231 Justice and Memory.indb 231 02.11.2009 13:39:31 even on the part of former Nazi victims who became politicians after World War II, for example Jochmann, Figl, Migsch, Olah, Lackner and Gorbach.42 In the following piece of speech, the then President Thomas Klestil refers to six breaks and turning points in the years from 1918 until 1998. Evoking the Austrian millenary myth, Klestil points out that, during the previous 80 years, more breaks and caesuras had occurred than in any other period in the “thousand year’s history” of Austria: (21) In these 80 years between 1918 and 1998 there have surely been more breaks and caesuras than in any other period of our thousand-year history: There was the radical break in the year 1918 when, following the lost World War, the small alpine republic with 6 million people remained as the remnants of the Danube Republic [. . .]. There were the terrible breaks of the years 1927 and 1934 when the First Republic resolved into irreconcilable camps that combated against each other bloodily until democracy perished as well. There was the year 1938, when Austria was extinguished as a state, when hundreds of thousands disappeared in extermination camps, died in the war and hail of bomb- ing, and innumerable persons were expelled. And then came the so decisive turning point, when Austria was resurrected from the ruins. [. . .] And there was, of course, the so important caesura of the year 1955, when Austria regained its freedom of action in foreign affairs through the State Treaty. This firm foundation permitted the clear consciousness of Europe to grow that was expressed so impressively in the national referendum on our becoming a member of the EU. Finally, there was also another turning point, which changed our position in Europe: I am speaking about the autumn of 1989, when the Cold War finished and the Iron Curtain was cut through on our borders. [. . .]43 This enumeratio actually encompasses the major historical breaks from 1918 until 1998. If we put aside that Klestil’s vocabulary veils the National Socialist crimes and perpetrators behind the euphemistic paraphrase “hundreds of thousands disappeared in extermination camps” and that Klestil does not overtly refer to the years of Austro- fascist domination, the list can, in my view, be considered as a handy overview of important points that could become the subject of a con- temporary commemorative speech on the occasion of the foundation of the Austrian Republic. Before focussing on the most recent Austrian commemoration of the Republic’s foundation in November 2008, two remarks have to be 232 Justice and Memory.indb 232 02.11.2009 13:39:31 made on person-related synecdoches that can repeatedly be identified in the commemorative speeches in question: (1) Diachronically speaking, particularising partes pro toto such as “the Austrian“ – we had one example for this type of synecdoche in Renner’s speech in 1948 – have become rarer in the commemora- tive speeches in the last decades. One reason for this rhetorical change is that it has become far more common knowledge among politicians that such “collective anthroponymic singulars” usually convey hastily generalising stereotypes. Thus, such particularis- ing synecdoches are being replaced by other rhetorical tropes, especially by metonymies which are based on toponyms (such as “Austria”, “Germany”). However, such metonymies also often contain a problematic generalisation and function not just as metonymies, but also as generalising synecdoches. (2) A second person-related synecdoche and metonymy have to be mentioned here that have the rhetorical effect of constructing personal and temporal continuity over a long period of time. The synecdoche can be termed as “historically expanded we”, and the respective metonymy as “historical we” – in analogy to the linguis- tic concept of “historical present”. The metonymic “historical we” refers to people who died a long time ago or suggests that the actual speaker participated in historical processes that happened before the speaker was even born. Such a “we” is often realised as “national we”, if the community of reference is imagined as the “own nation”. Instead, the synecdoche denominated “historically expanded we” does not exclude the speaker if we look closely at the historical point of reference of the respective utterance. When Rudolf Kirchschläger, in his commemorative speech given in 1978, speaks of the reparations “we had to pay after the First World War”, the “we” helps to create a huge Austrian collective and to bridge a long period of time. From a tropological point of view the question arises whether Kirchschläger realised a “historically expanded” or a “historical we”. Kirchschläger himself was born in 1915. He was three years old in 1918 and did not have to pay reparations himself. Nevertheless, this “we” used by Kirchschläger is not a clear case of a metonymic “historical we”, but could be seen as a “historically expanded we”, because a young child can 233 Justice and Memory.indb 233 02.11.2009 13:39:32 also suffer from the reparations paid by the generation of her or his parents. 2008 (90th anniversary) The question of how the 90th anniversary of the foundation of the Austrian Republic is commemorated in November 2008 remains. The highest political representatives such as President Heinz Fischer, Chancellor Alfred Gusenbauer and President of the National Assem- bly Barbara Pramer hardly stand out positively from their oratorical predecessors in 1998 with respect to the dealing with Austro-fascism and National Socialism in their speeches. But one speech of a non- politician has to be highlighted: the speech by Johanna Rachinger, Director General of the Austrian National Library, who was invited to speak as the final official orator in the Joint Commemorative Sitting of the National and Federal Assembly on 12 November 2008. Rachinger stressed the deep historical caesura between the First and the Second Austrian Republic: (22) History founds identity. In order to know who we are, we must know where we come from. As Robert Menasse once stated, anniversaries easily get into the elegiac atmosphere of funerals. Nothing but good things are allowed to be affirmed about the celebrated. However, a great chance could also lie in 2008, which is a year of multiple commemorations, namely the chance to reach a new self-understanding of our present through a critical analysis and re-evaluation of our past. “90 Years of the Republic of Austria” – we all know that in this several inaccuracies immediately resonate, as for at least for seven years there was neither a republic nor a sovereign state at all. And since the abolition of the parliament in March 1933 and the con- stitution of the Austro-fascist corporate state in May 1934, there was no democratic Austria any longer. This temporary abolition of an autonomous democratic Austrian state and the entanglement into National Socialist wrong and blame mark a deep caesura between the First and the Second Republic and determine our political self- understanding and national identity until today. Differently from other European nation states, the two dates of birth of the present democratic Austria – one of the First and the other of the Second – are rather characterised by crises of identity, by self-doubts and half-truths than by a euphoric, established national idea. But the Austrian characteristic and strength probably lies especially in this, namely the insight that cultural identity is something which does not simply fall into one’s lap, but has to be found in a ponderous process of self-reflection.44 234 Justice and Memory.indb 234 02.11.2009 13:39:32 Here, the orator explicitly refers to the inexactitude of the synec- dochic claim expressed in the commemorative motto: “90 Years of Republic of Austria”. Rachinger exposes the historical breaks that are rhetorically covered up by the temporal synecdoche. Rachinger follows Menasse (who is among the public intellectuals who criticise Austrian politicians most loudly for their tendency to relativize the Austro-fascist past) and removes a long-lasting blind spot in the public Austrian commemoration. In doing so, she also critically reflects on a meta-level on the democratic scope, rules and limits of different interpretations of historical truth: (23) And it is probably no coincidence that particularly the opinions regarding the assessment of the epoch of the corporate state strongly diverge up to now, depending on the political camp. On the one hand, there still continues the attempt to justify the Austro-fascism as if it were a harmless Austrian variant of fascism, the declared aim of which was to defend the independence of Austria from Hitler Germany until the end. On the other hand, it must clearly be stated that Engelbert Dollfuß dissoci- ated himself from the model of a democratic republic wilfully and purposefully with the corporate state constitution from 1 May 1934, and erected a one-party dictator- ship that he himself called fascist. In this, it becomes apparent for us today that the interpretation and evaluation of history has a lot to do with one’s own formation of identity and one’s own self-perception and – therefore – leads to different results depending on the political group. This leeway for different interpretations of history is not negative per se; it must rather have its place in a consolidated democracy. Both the freedom of scientific research and the personal freedom of speech are basic values which come into play here. But it is also clear that there are limits, that the leeway towards history is only possible within the framework of a fundamental consent, a consent which forms the basis for the existence of a society. To define the limits of a respective interpretation of history is a sensible task for every society. Considering the National Socialist epoch we undoubtedly meet with such a limitation on free- dom of speech. A principally positive representation of the NS period, associated with a denial of its crimes is outside a basic social consent towards history today. A fundamental distancing from the crimes of National Socialism must be a common ideological basis of all political parties in Austria today. And every attempt, even the smallest, to abandon this consent must be branded as a political scandal. In reverse, there remains a noticeable disquiet wherever the state fixes the historical truth by law. State power can too easily be abused for the repression of unpleasant discussion and for the violent establishment of a questionable official image of history.45 Comparably clear statements about the Austro-fascist period which abruptly terminated the First Republic have not been uttered before during the Joint Commemorative Sittings of the National and Fed- 235 Justice and Memory.indb 235 02.11.2009 13:39:32 eral Council on the occasion of the anniversary of the foundation of the Austrian Republic. We will see in the future whether Rachinger managed to set commemorative standards with her speech. 4. Conclusions and some advice We can summarise that in the first decades after 1945, political ora- tors commemorating the proclamation of the Austrian Republic in November 1918 scarcely refer to the National Socialist crimes and even less to Austro-fascist cruelties, but neither do they tend towards constructing synecdochic “rounding up” bridges as often as their political successors. If they mention National Socialism, they recur- rently represent it metaphorically as a sort of natural catastrophe suffered by the Austrians, and as a non-Austrian, foreign imposition (topos or fallacy of heteronomy). Repeatedly, the metaphor of birth is utilised in order to imply Austrian innocence with respect to National Socialist brutalities. Austro-fascism is hardly ever made a subject of the speeches until recently. Especially in the 1990s, politicians start to mention less abstractly some of the Austrian Nazi crimes but, at the same time, they increasingly resort to the rhetorical strategy of the temporal rounding up. As for future anniversaries, Johanna Rachinger’s speech could be indicative with respect to her avoidance of bridging incisive historical breaks and suggesting historical continuity by rhetorical tropes, and with respect to her unambiguous reference to Austro-fascism and National Socialism. The wish list of a speech critic advising future • If possible, political orators should attempt to date historical turn- political orators in Austria could include the following points: ing points that become the subject of their speeches clearly and • If possible, political orators should name historical breaks as unequivocally. breaks and not bridge them by using persuasive rhetorical figures, although there is no doubt that nobody can do without tropes in • Politicians commemorating the foundation of the Austrian Republic their language, since nowhere is there a language free of tropes. should explicitly refer to the substitution of the name “federal state” for “democratic republic” in 1934 under the authoritarian Austro- 236 Justice and Memory.indb 236 02.11.2009 13:39:32 fascist regime. It still seems difficult for many politicians to speak about the clear end of the First Republic. There is a lack of clarity in respect of this far-reaching historical break, which can even be found in various books by historians and political scientists: Often, the year 1938 is indicated as the concrete date of the end of the First Republic. Sometimes, 1934 is meant to be the year in which the First Republic was abolished. Occasionally, both dates ambiguously alternate in one and the same piece of text. In contrast to these ambiguous representa- tions, the abolition of the republican constitution and its replacement by the Austro-fascist constitution in 1934 should unequivocally be • mentioned in the respective commemorative speeches. Negative aspects of the Austrian history should not be utilised for • the purpose of positive rhetorical self-presentation. Social actors, both perpetrators and victims, should not be disguised behind abstract formulations (for example metonymies), nominali- • sations and passivations. The use of the mitigating sociative formations (“Mitschuld”, “Mitver- antwortung”) should be avoided. Instead, politicians should simply speak of “guilt” and “responsibility” when referring to Nationalist • Socialist crimes committed by Austrians. The temporal rounding-up synecdoche should be avoided. The foundation of the Republic in 1918 can, and should be, commemo- rated without falsely presupposing a continuative existence. Notes 1 RICŒUR 1996: p. 173. 2 I would like to thank Robert McInnes and Paul Sarazin for correcting my Eng- lish. 3 REISIGL 2006: p. 597. 4 For more details see, among others, REISIGL 2006: pp. 599 ff. 5 See ibid.: p. 598. 6 See ibid.: pp. 598 ff., where the trope of metonymy is explained and illustrated as well. 7 Cf. PLETT 2001: pp. 92-94, LAUSBERG 1990: pp. 295-298; MORIER 1989: pp. 1159-1175, ZIMMERMANN 1990 and GRODDECK 1995: pp. 205-220. 8 Cf. PLETT 2001: pp. 92-94, see also REISIGL 2006: p. 602. 9 See PALONEN 1995. 10 BURKE 1969: p. 508. 237 Justice and Memory.indb 237 02.11.2009 13:39:38 11 Also reproduced in REISIGL 2003: p. 253. 12 See ibid.: pp. 252–258. 13 See KÖSTENBERGER 2008: p. 610. 14 See ibid.: pp. 612–619. 15 Quoted in JOCHUM, OLBORT 1998: pp. 17 ff. 16 See KÖSTENBERGER 2008: pp. 618 f. 17 Renner’s radio speech is quoted in ÖSTERREICHISCHE BUNDESREGIERUNG 1950: p. 87. 18 Renner employs this exculpating argumentation scheme again and again in his speeches. 19 Quoted in ÖSTERREICHISCHE BUNDESREGIERUNG 1948: pp. 1f. 20 Quoted in ÖSTERREICHISCHE STAATSDRUCKEREI 1968: p. 10. 21 Quoted in ibid.: p. 10. 22 Quoted in ibid.: p. 8. 23 Quoted in ibid.: p. 8. 24 See Reisigl 2007. 25 Quoted in ÖSTERREICHISCHE STAATSDRUCKEREI 1968: p. 4. 26 See WODAK, DE CILLIA, REISIGL, LIEBHART 2009: pp. 85f. 27 Quoted in ÖSTERREICHISCHE STAATSDRUCKEREI 1978: p. 6. 28 Quoted in ibid.: p. 6. 29 Quoted in ibid.: p. 8. 30 Quoted in ibid.: p. 10. 31 Quoted in ibid.: p. 12. 32 Quoted in ÖSTERREICHISCHE STAATSDRUCKEREI 1993: p. 11. 33 Quoted in ibid.: p. 11. 34 Quoted in ibid.: p. 14. 35 BURGER 1996: p. 40. 36 See WODAK, DE CILLIA, REISIGL, LIEBHART 2009: p. 80. 37 Quoted in ÖSTERREICHISCHE STAATSDRUCKEREI 1993: p. 14. 38 Quoted in ibid.: p. 14. 39 Quoted in ibid.: p. 17. 40 Quoted in ÖSTERREICHISCHE STAATSDRUCKEREI 1998: p. 6. 41 Quoted in ibid.: p. 15. 42 Ibid.: p. 14. 43 Quoted in ibid.: p. 20. 44 Translation of the German transcript from the video recording of the speech broadcasted live on the Austrian state television ORF on 12 November 2008. 45 Translation of the German transcript from the video recording of the speech broadcasted live on the Austrian state television ORF on 12 November 2008. 238 Justice and Memory.indb 238 02.11.2009 13:39:38 Bibliography R. BURGER, Patriotismus und Nation, in R. BURGER, H. KLEIN, W. H. SCHRADER (eds.), Gesellschaft, Staat, Nation, Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1996, pp. 35–46. K. BURKE, A rhetoric of motives, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1969. W. GRODDECK, Rhetorik über Rhetorik. Zu einer Stilistik des Lesens, Basel–Frankfurt a. M.: Stroemfeld, 1995. M. JOCHUM, F. OLBORT, 80 Jahre Republik Österreich. 1918 bis 1938 und 1945 bis 1998 in Reden und Statements, Vienna: Eugen Ketterl Verlag, 1998. J. KÖSTENBERGER, 12. November – Gedenktag der Republik. Ein verlorener Staatsfeiertag, in S. KARNER, L. MIKOLETZKY (eds.), Österreich. 90 Jahre Republik. Beitragsband der Ausstellung im Parlament. Innsbruck, Vienna–Bolzano: Studienverlag, 2008, pp. 609–632. H. LAUSBERG, Handbuch der literarischen Rhetorik. Eine Grundlegung der Literaturwissenschaft, Stuttgart: Steiner, 1990. H. MORIER, Dictionnaire de Poétique et de Rhétorique, Paris: Presses Univ. de France, 1989. ÖSTERREICHISCHE BUNDESREGIERUNG (ed.), Für Recht und Frieden. Eine Auswahl der Reden des Bundespräsidenten Dr. Karl Renner, Vienna: Österreichische Staatsdruckerei, 1950. ÖSTERREICHISCHE STAATSDRUCKEREI (ed.), 30 Jahre Republik Österreich, Vienna: Österreichische Staatsdruckerei, 1948. Id., 50 Jahre Republik Österreich, Vienna: Österreichische Staatsdruckerei, 1968. Id., 60 Jahre Republik Österreich, Vienna: Österreichische Staatsdruckerei, 1978. Id., 75 Jahre Republik Österreich, Vienna: Österreichische Staatsdruckerei, 1993. Id., 80 Jahre Republik Österreich, Vienna: Österreichische Staatsdruckerei, 1998. K. PALONEN, Der Parteiname als Synekdoche? Eine rhetorische Per- spektive zum Wandel der Konfliktkonstellationen, in R. REIHER (ed.), Sprache im Konflikt. Zur Rolle der Sprache in sozialen, politischen und militärischen Auseinandersetzungen, Berlin–New York: de Gruyter, 1995, pp. 447–460. 239 Justice and Memory.indb 239 02.11.2009 13:39:39 H. PLETT, Einführung in die rhetorische Textanalyse, Hamburg: Buske, 9th edition 2001. M. REISIGL, Anmerkungen zu einer Tropologie des Historischen, in O. PANAGL, H. STÜRMER (eds.), Politische Konzepte und ver- bale Strategien – Brisante Wörter, Begriffsfelder, Sprachbilder, Frank- furt a. M. et al.: Lang, 2002, pp. 185–220. M. REISIGL, Wie man eine Nation herbeiredet. Eine diskursanalytische Untersuchung zur sprachlichen Konstruktion der österreichischen Na- tion und österreichischen Identität in politischen Fest- und Gedenkreden, Wien: unpublished PhD. M. REISIGL, Rhetorical Tropes in Political Discourse, in K. BROWN (ed.), The Encyclopedia of Language and Linguistics, vol. X, Oxford: Elsevier, 2nd edition 2006, pp. 596–605. M. REISIGL, Nationale Rhetorik in Fest- und Gedenkreden. Eine diskursana- lytische Studie zum „österreichischen Millennium“ in den Jahren 1946 und 1996, Tübingen: Stauffenburg, 2007. P. RICŒUR, Das Selbst als ein Anderer. Munich: Fink, 1996. R. WODAK, R. DE CILLIA, M. REISIGL, K. LIEBHART, The Discur- sive Construction of National Identity, Edinburgh: Edinburgh Univer- sity Press, 2nd extended edition, 2009. E. N. ZIMMERMANN, Identity and Difference: the Logic of Synec- dochic Reasoning, in Texte. Revue de Critique et de Théorie Litteraire 8–9, 1989, pp. 25–62. 240 Justice and Memory.indb 240 02.11.2009 13:39:39 Images of the “Other” and Danish Politics of the Past: Anti-Semitism, Xenophobia and the Dream of Homogeneity Thorsten Wagner I. Cartoons and Violence – an Abrupt Awakening Seen against the backdrop of the traumas of 20th century European history, Denmark seems to stand out as having been spared most of the civic strife and the catastrophes of the past century. It overcame this period of wars, dictatorships and social upheavals with relative integrity and stability. For many years, though, the Danish narrative of the period of World War II was – in spite of its heterogeneous character – nevertheless most often dominated by a combination of a sense of victimisation and a pride in the heroic resistance against Nazi politics of persecution. The presumably few exceptions, the Nazi sympathizers and collaborators, were easily singled out and stigmatised as traitors and criminals.1 The predominance of this benign understanding of recent Danish history has been challenged in a growing degree over recent years. But it seems as if it took the violent protests in the wake of the Cartoon Crisis in 2006 to shake Danish self-confidence, and thus to mark a turning point and foster new questions about the past and present of Danish society. The anger of Arab and Muslim demonstrators and the destroyed embassies provided the set of images that came to symbolise a belated revision of the long-standing perception and self-perception of Denmark that had been underway for years. A nation that had been either overlooked or celebrated as a benign, cute dwarf and a role model for civic courage and social justice, now “suddenly” seemed to stick out as an object of hatred, siding with the presumable “villains” of international politics such as the US or Israel. In a domestic Danish context, for some the Dannebrog burning next to the Israeli and American flags became a wake-up call, a source 241 Justice and Memory.indb 241 02.11.2009 13:39:39 of confusion, discomfort, and irritation, questioning the somewhat dull self-indulgence of the small nation. Even if one chooses neither to interpret the publication of the cartoons of the prophet Mohammed as a heroic fight for the free- dom of speech and against Islamic domination of the world, nor as a (presumably) illegitimate attack on religious feelings or a symbol of demonising the Muslim minority in Denmark, the Cartoon Crisis brought certain issues to the fore that had implications reaching far beyond the context of day-to-day politics: issues of perceptions and self-perceptions, issues of ethnic/cultural homogeneity and diversity, and especially also the issue of the sweet dream of Danish – and by extension Scandinavian – exceptionalism. This essay focuses on the question, what impact the issues of defin- ing the national community in terms of cultural and ethnic homo- geneity have had on the hegemonic culture of memory in Denmark, especially regarding World War II and the Holocaust. How does anti- Semitism figure in this equation? And what implications does this web of issues about coming to terms with diversity have for present-day ideological and political conflicts on the “integration” of immigrants? As a starting-point, the question has to be addressed which traumatic pasts actually did play a role in Danish history. Taking it from there, the issue of Jewish/Non-Jewish relations in Denmark will be used as a case study of Danish politics of the past. II. Danish Traumatic Pasts? How does Denmark remember its past? Which past is commemo- rated? Are there traumatic pasts that are remembered and have consequences for the present? The most conspicuous aspect about the more recent Danish national historical experience seems to be the absence of traumas: No massive civil strife, no huge numbers of casualties, almost no material destruction of Danish cities or territo- rial losses were caused by the wars of the 20th century. Danish society made it through the turmoil of the first half of the century without been torn between perpetrators and victims, oppressors and perse- cuted minorities. But of course there is a large trauma in modern Danish history, and it has a name: Germany. 242 Justice and Memory.indb 242 02.11.2009 13:39:39 Dybbøl and the Consequences The trauma Germany became especially relevant since the 19th cen- tury: Though Denmark’s status as a major player in regional politics – the composite state of Denmark-Norway controlling large parts of Northern Europe from the North Cape to the Elbe, including Atlantic territories such as Greenland and the Faroe Islands – had already been substantially reduced by the loss of Norway in 1814, the most significant symbolic date is the year 1864. In the aftermath of the defeat at Dybbøl, the Danish King lost his control over the Duch- ies of Schleswig and Holstein, and the Danish Commonwealth ap- proximately 1/3 of its population and of its territory – constituting the most modern and industrialized part. Left with the still less eco- nomically developed and primarily agricultural parts and truncated in terms of economic potential and political power, the urban elites of Denmark were substantially weakened. Their national aspirations had been frustrated massively, and the burgeoning new dominant class of small-holding farmers wound up to be the dominant group in redefining national identity and politics.2 Appeasing Germany Their interpretations of history and their concepts of society set the stage for a non-confrontationist, non-belligerent foreign policy that dominated the truncated new nation state of Denmark, embedded in a self-perception of ethnic and cultural homogeneity, as the multi- cultural and multi-ethnic character of the composite state had been lost. The trauma of defeat, culminating in Bismarck’s annexation of the Duchies a few years later, generated an element of irredentism within the Danish body politic, an eagerness to support the Danish minority in the occupied territories and to achieve a border revision. But even these aspirations were overruled by the existential threat that Prussia, and soon the new-founded German Empire meant to the very existence of an independent Danish state. Germanic, romanticist notions of Scandinavia and the “North”, intertwined with an element of economic and military expansionism seemed to question the raison d’être of the Danish Kingdom as an independent entity. Enforced by the “realpolitik” of power politics of the imperialist era of European 243 Justice and Memory.indb 243 02.11.2009 13:39:39 history, Denmark sought to keep close to its British trade partners, but even after the “Reunification” of Northern Schleswig with the Kingdom in 1920 as a consequence of the Versailles Treaty and its politics of referenda, the Danish elites saw no reason to challenge the big neighbour to the South. The Occupation Thus, with Denmark’s fairly pacifist and non-belligerent foreign policy, on April 9th 1940, the stage was set for the re-enacting or at least re-activating of the trauma of 1864: On the day of Operation Weserübung, there neither was a political will nor a military option of substantial resistance, and the fighting ceased after only a few hours. Conquered with ease, the Danish government and elites established the ramifications of a rather exceptional “peaceful occupation”: the illusion of continued independence was bought with a significant degree of political, administrative, and especially economic collabo- ration. While primarily the political and religious minorities suffered from persecution (especially the Communists) or from fear of the same (the Danish Jewish Community), only a marginal segment of the Danish population, mostly on the fringes of the political spectrum, perceived the collective humiliation and national shame as a sufficient reason for active resistance activities – at least as long as the German war machinery was successful. The majority, however, was quietist and passive – be it for tactical reasons (fearing a collapse of the fairly gentle occupation regime) or out of personal interest in safeguard- ing their profiteering as farmers or entrepreneurs. In the long run, though, and with the receding attractiveness of collaborationism, the German occupation of Denmark ended up being experienced as a hitherto unknown trauma for national identity, and in 1945 the vast majority literally or mentally joined the ranks of the Freedom Fighters of the resistance movement. The previous divisiveness now created a desperate need for patriotic memories, and after a surprisingly short period of political conflict, a consensual reading of the immediate past attained hegemonic status soon after the end of the war: Though choosing different modes of objecting to Nazi power, the vast majority of Danes supposedly had been part of the resistance fight – whether 244 Justice and Memory.indb 244 02.11.2009 13:39:39 they had sought to appease Berlin by limited “cooperation” or had salvaged the pride of the nation by actively fighting the occupiers. The Domestic Dimension: The “Danish Path” to Modernity This strong urge for a shared – even if very selective – memory of the occupation period, covering up real conflicts of interest and radi- cally different modes of behaviour, had its equivalent in the domestic arena. The dominant narrative of Danish foreign policy, emphasis- ing the need to appease the external threat, was interwoven with a hegemonic interpretation of Denmark’s way into the modern world: The Danish path to modernisation, democracy, and industrialisation obviously did create certain social tensions and conflicts. But after all, these were presumably dealt with within a paradigm of peaceful settlements and smooth compromises. Several preconditions and nar- rative components are part of this image of Danish modernisation. First of all, the emphasis is on the broad and early success of the Ref- ormation in Denmark. The soon to be achieved predominance of the Lutheran church prevented confessional strife and religious-cultural cleavages. Secondly, the comparably early and thorough establishment of absolutist rule in the mid-17th century destroyed the aspirations of the landed aristocracy for power and influence early on. Thirdly, the concept and self-representation of a “benevolent”, father-like monarch enabled the regime to claim the credit for the comprehen- sive agrarian reforms of the late 18th century. These reforms solved pressing land use issues and, thus, paved the way for a stable lower middle class of small-holding, landowning farmers participating in national politics and constituting the backbone of a political move- ment that was able to enforce a system of mass education and succes- sive economic and political democratisation. This provided the basis for Grundloven: The constitution of 1848/49 established the system of constitutional monarchy without revolution and bloodshed. And finally, industrialisation came late, but proceeded fairly smoothly and without major crises, reined in by class compromises and a thorough democratization of society, letting the Danish Workers’ Movement, its reformist unions and its Social Democratic Party inherit the he- gemonic power that had been achieved some decades earlier by the liberal movement of the small-holders and urban intellectuals.3 245 Justice and Memory.indb 245 02.11.2009 13:39:39 Room for Diversity? The Danish Path and the Jewish Question This hegemonic paradigm of memory obviously glosses over those aspects of Danish history that do not fit the concept of peaceful and harmonious development. Thus, it marginalises the conflicts of in- terest that were part and parcel of the mentioned agrarian reforms, as much as it tends to ignore the fact that the first Danish-German War of 1848–50 actually rather has to be described as a civil war, with different political and ethnic-cultural factions within the Dan- ish Commonwealth clashing with each other. First and foremost, though, it is interwoven with the dream of cultural homogeneity and therefore it touches on the linchpin, if not even the Achilles heel of the liberal ideologies and policies of the European bourgeoisie: the Jewish Question. The political project of a society of equal citizens implied the issue, whether equality and civic rights were to be granted only to white, male (land-owning?) Europeans – and by extension it brought up the issue, whether male, middle-class Jews could be part of this citizenry. III. Anti-Semitism in Denmark: the litmus test of a successful democracy? 1. Conventional truisms: Anti-Semitism as a non-Danish phenomenon To many observers, the most salient event in the history of the Jews of Denmark was their successful attempt to escape the Nazi roundup action of October 1943. As hundreds of non-Jewish Danes assisted them, this rescue operation over the Øresund added to the trium- phalist narrative of successful integration that dominates the per- ception of Danish-Jewish history. This narrative, augmented by the sense of gratitude displayed by many Danish Jews for the rejection of anti-Semitism, has helped to view Danish Jews as the exceptional case of the European-Jewish experience. To be sure, if one views this history in the light of a European comparative perspective, pre-emancipation privileges were more extensive and the process of Danish-Jewish acculturation and social integration in the course of the nineteenth century went smoother than in many other countries. No comprehensive and pervasive sys- 246 Justice and Memory.indb 246 02.11.2009 13:39:40 tem of preconditions – in terms of a quid pro quo of assimilation for equal rights – was established, the emancipation legislation of the early 19th century was neither procrastinated nor rescinded, and no political, let alone violent anti-Semitic movement developed. But these aspects of the Jewish experience in Denmark have become crystallised into a version of Danish nation-building that is highly selective and benevolent, for example overlooking the underlying demands for a successive relinquishing of one’s cultural distinctiveness and alterity as a group.4 Within the framework of an international discourse on the rise and fall, the blossoming and destruction of European Jewry, this historical image of the Danish “exception” has served as the antithesis to the notion of the project of a modern European Jewish existence doomed to fail. The only dissertation on Danish-Jewish history published so far, Nathan Bamberger’s Viking Jews, traced this presumably exceptional phenomenon throughout modern Danish his- tory and concluded: “In the admirable history of Danish Jewry, one cannot overlook the Danes’ strong humanistic values, their sense of decency, and their care for all citizens.”5 In some cases, this has been reinforced by the rise of the Holocaust paradigm in the interpreta- tion of the history of World War II and the 20th century in general. Organisations such as “Thanks to Scandinavia” promote the Danish commitment to human dignity and ethical values in World War II as a role model for moral behavior today by stating: “The selfless and heroic effort of the Scandinavian people through the dark days of Nazi Terror is a shining example of humanity and hope for now and tomorrow.”6 In addition, books such as Moral Courage Under Stress and The Test of a Democracy, attest to this glorification of the Danish past in a Jewish perspective.7 Over the last two decades, especially in the collective memory of American Jews, Denmark has become the light in the darkness in a Nazi-dominated Europe bogged down by the collaborators’ active complicity and the bystanders’ indifference. This dominating perception of Denmark as a Righteous Nation – even honored as such by Yad Vashem – is intertwined with a specific understanding of the history of Danish-Jewish relations. Frequently, scholars, journalists, and other intellectuals have pre- sented “October 1943” as proof of the irrelevance or even absence of anti-Jewish resentment in modern Danish society. Similar to the case of England, anti-Semitism is understood to be an essentially un- 247 Justice and Memory.indb 247 02.11.2009 13:39:40 Danish phenomenon. The roots of this concept are manifold: Danes are supposedly carrying an innate immunity against Jew-hatred – an immunity that either is defined in an essentialist way, by pointing to the humane and tolerant national character of the Danish people, or in historical terms, by referring to a specifically smooth “Danish Path” into a democratic, pluralistic, modern society. Furthermore, dubbing anti-Semitism as an import – a German import – without autochthonous roots and traditions, helped to reinforce this notion of immunity. Finally, reference is often made to the specific nature of the Jewish community in Denmark, its “invisibility,” caused by the small number of Jews and their high degree of acculturation and integra- tion. The successful story of integration and the notion of innate tol- erance have contributed to dramatic lacunae of critical research both in terms of Danish-Jewish history and the history of anti-Semitism in Denmark.8 There is no need to investigate an issue that is perceived to be non-existent. Furthermore, the interpretative confinement of the concept of anti-Semitism as un-Danish has frequently been accompanied by an often implicit comparative perspective that rein- forced the notion of immunity. If German racial anti-Semitism and systematic genocide provide the standard of comparison, one may perceive other xenophobic and anti-Jewish stereotypes as marginal. Single unequivocal expressions of anti-Semitism are, therefore, dis- missed as irrelevant exceptions rather than investigating the origins, traditions and functions of these concepts and exploring the ways in which they have been instrumental in construing individual and collective identities by defining the Jew as “the other”.9 2. Neglected Perspectives This specific narrative of Danish and Danish-Jewish history implies toning down the more problematic issues of nationalism and integra- tion in the Danish case. Some of these issues illustrate crucial aspects of Danish self-perception and concepts of community under scrutiny here, though. An example of this is the “Literary Feud”, the flurry of pamphlets and articles that for many months discussed the status of the Jews in Danish society in the wake of the state’s economic disaster of 1813. Not only did a significant number of authors hold Jews responsible for 248 Justice and Memory.indb 248 02.11.2009 13:39:40 the bankruptcy – quite a few among them described Jews as parasitic and alien to the Danish nation. Such conclusions implicitly defined the Danish nation in religiously Christian and ethnocentric terms. While Enlightenment figures that had dominated the discourse on the “Jewish Question” of earlier decades had underlined the need for “civic betterment and regeneration,” they still had upheld the basic principle of perfectibility. But with the gradual marginalisation of these positions, the intense public debate of these years brought at- titudes to the fore that presumed the impossibility of Jews becoming Danes.10 In the decades to follow, Romanticist intellectuals rose to be- come the dominating opinion makers. Thus, it comes as no surprise that the only non-German territory to which the HepHep pogroms of 1819 spread to was Denmark. In the capital as well as in a number of towns in the province, the well-calculated and partly intentionally provoked violence of the alleged “mob” turned against Jews and their property. In 1830, this outbreak of anti-Jewish, anti-emancipationist violence with ideological, political and economic underpinnings was repeated on a smaller scale. In the 1830s and 1840s, the Estate Assemblies finally discussed the question of complete Jewish emancipation. Many deputies voiced strong opinions against granting further rights to Jews, and rural clerics, often depicted as the avant-garde of democratisation and liberal values, rejected Jewish integration and legal equality on a combination of ethnicist and religious grounds: Jews could never become Danes because the core of being Danish was a profession of Christianity and the essence of being Jewish was to belong to a nation alien to the Danish people. For the time being, the government made no further progress in terms of Jewish emancipation. In fact, one of the most influential contemporaries, Nicolai Frederik Severin Grundtvig, the poet, politi- cian, and patron saint of a supposedly tolerant and civic version of nationalism and arguably the most important Danish theologian, spoke out publicly against Jewish emancipation on similar ethnicist and religious grounds. In general, Grundtvig had a hard time finding arguments against further Jewish rights, which would not be all too self-contradictory. Nevertheless, he favored a policy that would deny Jews suffrage and prevent their eligibility by prohibiting them land ownership, the prerequisite for all suffrage rights. Furthermore, when 249 Justice and Memory.indb 249 02.11.2009 13:39:40 Meïr Goldschmidt, the illustrious Danish-Jewish writer, participated in the heated debate over Schleswig in 1848–49, Grundtvig denied him the right to contribute to a discussion on an issue of such eminent national importance, since he – being a Jew – was and always would remain a guest in Denmark.11 After full emancipation was achieved with the constitution of 1849, the successful democratisation of Danish society and its economic stability in the course of the second half of the nineteenth century did provide the prerequisites for a society fairly capable of integrating both the Jewish community as well as the few other immigrant com- munities. However, this did not imply any kind of immunity against racism, neither in a historical perspective nor in regard to present problems and debates. Not only did it repeatedly become clear that the high degree of ethnic homogeneity of the Danish population proved to imply its own trappings: a homogeneity reinforced by the all but monopoly of the Lutheran “State Church”. Furthermore, traditions of xenophobia and racism can be traced back to a defini- tion of Danishness that amalgamated ethnic and religious criteria: In this context, intellectuals and writers had repeatedly provided the key arguments by mobilising the resistance against an extension of Jewish rights or even explicitly arguing against Jewish emancipation on religious grounds. Grundtvig constituted a key figure in this line of tradition, providing a link between the discourses of the eighteenth and the early twentieth century. One may view his ambiguous stand on the issue of inclusion and exclusion as emblematic of the history of Danish-Jewish relations. In the late 1870s, Hans Lassen Martensen, Zealand’s (and by ex- tension, Copenhagen’s) bishop, in his widely disseminated Christian Ethics, did not display much interest in observant Judaism.12 His obsession was rather with modern, assimilated and emancipated Jews, constituting the primary force undermining the concept of the Christian nation state. According to Martensen, the Jews had joined forces with individualistic hedonism, materialistic capitalism, radical skepticism and anticlerical liberalism, and now they were taking the lead in a forceful attempt to destroy the organically grown Christian state. Martensens keywords were dissolution and destruction, and the means for this purpose was supposedly the Jews’ influence in the economy, in the press and in politics. For him, the government had 250 Justice and Memory.indb 250 02.11.2009 13:39:40 made a mistake granting emancipation to the Jews and now the former guests had turned into despotic rulers. Both lines of reasoning had a significant influence on the debates in Denmark after World War I. As Martensen dismissed traditional Judaism as a set of meaningless rituals, at the same time he identified an urban, upper-middle class culture that was hostile to the Christian establishment in the Jewish free-thinker Georg Brandes. Thus by bracketing modern Judaism with secular Copenhagen and modern culture, he had linked the crucial topoi of the interwar period.13 In spite of the slow integration of East European Jews who immi- grated since the turn of the century, the speed with which the Jews of the Kingdom had climbed the social ladder and had gained ac- ceptance was remarkable. In 1931, their average annual income was twice as high as the national average, though with a strong internal differentiation. Since the end of the nineteenth century, Danes per- ceived the Jews of the Kingdom increasingly as compatriots. But in contrast to the post-1945 view of Danish history that portrayed anti- Semitism as irrelevant, anti-Semitism did play an important role in Danish society. This becomes clear, when the changing images of “the Jew” and their political implications in the course of historical events are examined: from the perception of the Jewish Question as being imminent and urgent after World War I, to the reactions to the challenge of Nazi Germany, and finally to the dilemmas of occupa- tion itself. In the first decades of the twentieth century, conservative authors often pointed to the Jewish Question as being pressing and highly problematic. Their views were also shared by nationalist movements reacting to the immigration of Eastern European Jews to Denmark and the alleged participation of a disproportionate number of Jews in the Russian Revolution. After the Nazi rise to power, the refugee problem became an issue in Denmark, as political and economic considerations as well as anti-Semitic attitudes guided politicians, diplomats, and bureaucrats. For example, the government’s memo- randa and drafts for its refugee policy often contained anti-Jewish stereotypes. In addition, diplomats as well as police officers regularly voiced harsh anti-Jewish arguments against immigration. Furthermore, the reaction to Nazi anti-Jewish discrimination and violence in Germany is quite telling: frequently, statements are to be 251 Justice and Memory.indb 251 02.11.2009 13:39:40 found that show a high degree of understanding for the Nazi book- burning, as the Jews supposedly had a much too large, detrimental, and morally corrosive effect on German society, or that describe the so-called Reichskristallnacht as the result of a “stupid crime” commit- ted by Herschel Grünspan. The negative climax of this discourse in Danish society is marked by the op-ed in the moderate right-wing newspaper Jyllands-Posten the day after the November Pogrom of 1938, justifying it as a legitimate act of German self-defense against Jewish power. Most importantly, though, was the assumption that a higher number of Jews in Denmark, or a higher degree of visibility in Danish society would create a “Jewish Problem” in Denmark as well. This discursive pattern reveals the underlying anti-Semitic concept of community: Danish Jews can be “tolerated” to some degree – as long as they comply with the demands of the hegemonic majority discourse for “invisibility”, that is for abandoning ethnical and/or cultural distinctiveness. 3. Recent Debates and New Research Some of these aspects of the Danish Past have started to become part of the academic discourse on history and of the politics of memory in Denmark. More recent research pursued by a younger generation of Danish scholars has begun to question the narrative of heroic human- ism that would imply immunity against fascism and anti-Semitism. For example, Lone Rünitz’s investigation of the government’s restric- tive refugee policy in the interwar period14 and the Danish Center for Holocaust and Genocide Studies’s study of German and Aus- trian Jewish immigrants who attempted to seek refuge in Denmark are just two examples of this more critical research.15 In addition, Michael Mogensen has examined the anti-Semitic attitudes prevalent among the members of the Danish exile community in Sweden,16 and together with Rasmus Kreth, has produced the first thorough research on the rescue operation itself.17 Mogensen and Kreth have stressed the importance of the Swedes’ willingness to help and of the intentional passivity of key German authorities. In addition to this, their research has highlighted the less flattering fact that the much- celebrated Danish fishermen sailing the Jews to the safe shores of Sweden frequently demanded exorbitant payments which in no way 252 Justice and Memory.indb 252 02.11.2009 13:39:40 was justifiable by reference to their personal risk and often legitimised by anti-Semitic references to Jewish wealth. Furthermore, Sofie Bak has published an introductory survey of the representations of the rescue operation in Danish post-war historiography and memorial culture.18 In addition, her work on Danish anti-Semitic movements in the early twentieth century is groundbreaking.19 In the framework of these attempts of reevaluation, a more critical view of the policy of collaboration has developed. “Cooperation” that implied the accept- ance and implementation of limited discriminatory measures against Danish Jews actually did lead to an offer by the Danish authorities to intern Danish Jews in September 1943 in an attempt to prevent the SS and Gestapo from pursuing a round-up. In addition to this, I have argued elsewhere that though an aggres- sive racial anti-Semitism only found little support in milieus affiliated with the Lutheran Church, negative stereotypes both about Jews and Judaism nevertheless were widespread and constituted core elements of identity formation and group formation in these milieus. The weakness of racial anti-Semitism did not at all prevent anti-Jewish stereotypes from being disseminated and influential even in the face of Nazism. While anti-Semitism found no home in symbolic poli- tics, legislation or jurisdiction, it did receive sympathy in regard to administrative practice and political debates. Anti-Semitic attitudes were in no way delegitimised on a wholesale basis before the German occupation of the country and before the “Final Solution” began to cast its shadow on Denmark. The rescue of Danish Jewry in October 1943 notwithstanding, negative perceptions and attitudes towards Jews and Judaism played a conspicuous role in Danish society in the first half of the twentieth century. Danish politicians, theologians and journalists contributed significantly to this by relating the reflection on Jewish issues to anti-pluralist missionary ambitions or anti-modern- ist and anti-capitalist discourses. Only when the turn of events forced them to frame these issues in terms of the dilemma of collaboration versus resistance and the specific challenge involved for the Church, categories such as the protection of human rights or ethnic and cul- tural diversity gained ground. Thus, traditions of anti-Judaism and varying modes of consent with modern anti-Semitic concepts were not delegitimised as such before the occupation and the rescue action – as an act of national resistance – enforced a process of rethinking in 253 Justice and Memory.indb 253 02.11.2009 13:39:41 milieus affiliated with the Church. Only then, the episcopal protest against the Judenaktion grew into a consensual expression of popular contempt for the occupation regime. In turn, existing anti-Jewish attitudes did not become a hindrance to the national project of pro- tecting the Danish Jews – as Danes – from persecution and death.20 4. Old and New Forms of Anti-Semitic Discourse But nevertheless, this critical revision of Danish history has by far not grown into a new consensus or base for Danish political discourse, on the contrary: In 1999, the nationalist-conservative publishing house Tidehverv, run by Jesper Langballe and Søren Krarup, right-wing theologians and clerics, republished Martin Luther’s On the Jews and their Lies. Langballe and Krarup are also both highly influential mem- bers of parliament for the Danish People’s Party (Dansk Folkeparti), a populist radical right-wing party that constitutes the parliamentary basis of the present center-right government. In the introduction, the editors stress the work’s “contemporary relevance” in affirmative terms without any critical commentary, while employing anti-Jewish traditions to legitimise their xenophobic populist agenda. In light of the enduring positive image of Danish-Jewish history, this republica- tion – and even more the fact that it did not provoke any academic protest, let alone public outcry – indicates that this positive perception deserves more scrutiny. Recently, however, a series of newspaper articles that focused on Krarup and his anti-Jewish rhetoric sparked public criticism of these tendencies. Repeatedly, Krarup has attempted to exculpate Harald Nielsen, a writer who welcomed Nazi anti-Semitic legislation and favoured the introduction of the Jewish star. Krarup has also sympa- thised with Nielsen´s attack on the Danish-Jewish liberal politician, writer and literary scholar Georg Brandes by stating, “Because of his Jewish blood he felt no reverence towards or intimate connection with the country’s past.”21 Krarup reacted to allegations of anti-Semitism by emphasizing his rejection of racism and racial anti-Semitism as ideologies incommensurate with a Christian worldview. He also emphasised that his family had fought in the national-conservative resistance against the Nazi occupiers in Denmark. Through his ref- erence to Christian convictions and nationalist orientations, Krarup 254 Justice and Memory.indb 254 02.11.2009 13:39:41 positioned himself in line with key dimensions of Danish memory culture. At the other end of the political spectrum, the historian and jour- nalist Bent Blüdnikow and other writers have in a series of articles and essays starting in the early 1990s attacked the political Left for voicing anti-capitalist and anti-Israel attitudes with clearly anti-Semitic undertones. The epitome of this trend was most probably the Ble- kinge Street gang, named after its hide-out – a group of homegrown radical leftist supporters of the PFLP and other Palestinian terrorist groups, practicing fundraising by means of bank robbery and not shying away from lethal violence. Phenomena like these were, to be sure, rooted in a widespread atmosphere of anti-Israel and, by ex- tension mostly anti-Jewish attitudes pervading the radical academic and student milieu of the 1970’s and 1980’s. Blüdnikow frequently polarised public opinion with his polemics, but achieved to unveil the tacit acquiescence with anti-Jewish violence at the bottom of this radical intellectualism. 5. The Wider Context: Revising the Benign Images of the Past In other fields of research, there also has been interplay between “re- visionist” scholarship and the changing political discourse on history and memory.22 Issues pertaining to the period of the occupation by Nazi Germany in particular have sparked a series of controversies. One strand of research has undermined the concept of heroic victimhood, emphasising the aspects of economic cooperation and profiteering during the war (especially regarding the agricultural sector, the arms industry, or Danish migrant workers in the German industry),23 or other kinds of active collaboration, such as the thousands of young Danes volunteering for the Waffen-SS.24 Another strand has decon- structed the idealisation of Danish society as being a role model of humanism and social justice, by highlighting the hypocritical witch- hunt against women that had (sexual) relations with German soldiers or against sympathisers of the Nazi regime,25 or by uncovering the fate of those 250.000 German refugees that ended up in Denmark at the end of the war, of whom more than 14.000 died because the health authorities, the medical associations, and even the Danish Red Cross refused to provide them with medical treatment. Half of these 14.000 255 Justice and Memory.indb 255 02.11.2009 13:39:41 were under the age of five.26 Some of these debates have reached a very broad audience, especially those touching on the legally and morally dubious executions of informers and collaborators in the final years of the occupation and immediately after the end of the war.27 The success of the movie Flammen og Citronen (Flame and Citron) by Ole Christian Madsen (2008) on the resistance group of Holger Danske and its at times arbitrary killings, is a case in point, popularising this complex and highly ambiguous chapter of Danish history. On the other hand, there has been a systematic endeavour by the center-right government under Anders Fogh-Rasmussen (2001–2009) to support a re-evaluation of the history of the occupation period as well as the Cold War. Critics have seen this as an attempt to gener- ate a version of the Danish past more in tune with the ideological ramifications of government politics. In order to reinstall a sense of national pride, it is argued, a reckoning with what often is dubbed “leftist defeatism and pacifism” is necessary, and the unwillingness of a parliamentary majority in the 1970s and 1980s to cooperate closely with NATO has been libeled as another leftist flirt with Soviet totali- tarianism. In this view, the non-belligerence of Danish interwar politics is blamed for the humiliating defeat of 1940. A massive resistance against the Nazi invasion and occupation would have been the only morally justifiable option. In this vein, “Never again April 9th!” becomes the legitimisation for a radical change from neutrality and passivity to an active foreign policy – history is used to justify the relatively substantial Danish military involvement in the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. Simultaneous with these contradictory trends, the study and pres- entation of the history of Danish Jewry and the Holocaust have in recent years been institutionalised with the establishment of the Danish Jewish Museum and the Danish Center (now: Department) for Holocaust and Genocide Studies. But both cases of institutionalisa- tion have proven highly ambivalent: The DCHF, instrumental in the extremely important critical re-evaluation of the restrictive Danish immigration policy, was hampered by a very broad focus of genocide studies and genocide prevention. It never attempted to reach beyond a certain superficial and temporary trendiness to actually establish a comprehensive and academically ambitious research agenda of Danish 256 Justice and Memory.indb 256 02.11.2009 13:39:41 Jewish History and Holocaust Studies, and has been almost dismantled as a research institution only a few years after its establishment.28 The Danish Jewish Museum also has had its difficulties with de- veloping the full critical potential of Danish Jewish history, such as a focus on the willingness to adapt and the preservation of ho- mogeneity as preconditions for benevolent inclusion. It has been hampered by its architect’s concept of architectural and historical representation: “The organising principle of the Danish Jewish Mu- seum is the concept of Mitzvah itself in its deep ethical meaning as a commandment, resolve and a fundamental good deed.”29 Daniel Libeskind’s approach, highlighting the good story, thus only reinforced the concept of Danish exceptionalism. Furthermore, the anti-immi- grant right-wing in Danish politics knew how to instrumentalise the Museum by arguing that this successful story of Jewish integration via assimilation would prove why the social inclusion of Muslim im- migrants who seem unwilling to give up their distinctive culture is not recommendable. IV. Conclusion In a society with few historical traumas of war and mass killings, the Danish culture of memory is intertwined with the concept of Dan- ishness in modern times: Due to the national narrative of successful integration of Danish Jews and their heroic rescue from Nazi perse- cution, a critical investigation of the relationship between Jews and Non-Jews in 19th and 20th century Danish society has been neglected until recently. In many ways, we are only beginning to explore the dissemination and function of anti-Semitic patterns of perception, interpretation, and behaviour in Danish society. More than likely, future studies will be less flattering than the long-cherished self-in- dulging perceptions of a peaceful and humanistic nation. This would imply a rewriting of Danish history “from the margins”. The liberal democratic political culture that informed the forma- tion of the Danish nation state did not do so without exclusionist practices. On the contrary, it implied a rejection of cultural or eth- nic heterogeneity. Instead of exonerating Danish anti-Semitism by self-serving comparisons, a fresh view on Danish-Jewish relations in 257 Justice and Memory.indb 257 02.11.2009 13:39:41 modern times promises new insights into the development of Danish national identity, oscillating between inclusion and exclusion. Even in the second half of the twentieth century, this fundamental ambiguity has not lost its impact on the discourses on Jews and Juda- ism. In spite of a growing diversification and secularisation of society, the anti-pluralistic dream of an ethnically and culturally homogene- ous Danish national community lives on. This becomes visible both in the xenophobic and Islamophobic character of the immigration and integration debate as well as in an unholy alliance of residual elements of conventional anti-Semitism and anti-Israel sentiments. Notes 1 Cf. the works of the prolific scholar of the Danish National Socialist movement, John T. LAURIDSEN, especially Dansk Nazisme: 1930–45 og derefter, Copenhagen: Gyldendal, 2002. Lauridsen, who is research director at the Royal Library in Co- penhagen, has repeatedly emphasized how the self-righteous and moralistic legal and political reckoning with the Danish Nazi Party had a significant substituting function of circumventing a more thorough soul-searching among the elites and large groups within Danish society collaborating with Nazi Germany. 2 Cf. the stimulating argument presented by ØSTERGÅRD 1996. 3 Cf. the seminal article by BREGNSBO 1996. 4 Thus, Poul BORCHSENIUS writes about Denmark’s “særstilling i historien om jødisk emancipation” (exceptional status in the history of Jewish emancipation) in the classical Historien om de danske jøder, Copenhagen: Fremad, 1968, p. 52. 5 BAMBERGER 1990: p. 16. 6 www.thankstoscandinavia.org 7 GOLDBERGER 1987 and YAHIL 1969. 8 Bent Blüdnikow has since the early 1980s been one of the early but few pioneers of research on Danish Jewish history, and over the last years, the numerous works of Martin Schwarz Lausten (on the relations of the Church and the Jewish Community) and Morten Thing (on Eastern European Jewish immigration) have contributed significantly to reduce this deficit. But as there still are substantial lacunae to be filled, we have established a research group on Scandinavian-Jew- ish history and literature at the Department for Scandinavian Studies of the Humboldt University. 9 KUSHNER 1999. See also KUSHNER 1989. 10 WAGNER: pp. 85–99. 11 KRAGH 1971: p. 23. 12 Cf. my biographical sketch: WAGNER 2009. 13 It was published in German as well: MARTENSEN: §§ 45–50, especially §48. 258 Justice and Memory.indb 258 02.11.2009 13:39:43 14 Cf. RÜNITZ 2000. 15 The results of this research project have recently been published in a series of pub- lications: RÜNITZ 2005; KIRCHHOFF 2005; BANKE 2005; VILHJÁLMSSON 2005. 16 See MOGENSEN 2000. 17 See KRETH, MOGENSEN 1995. 18 BAK 2001. 19 BAK 2004. Her findings confirm my research presented in WAGNER 2003, pp. 149–168. 20 WAGNER 2007. 21 KRARUP 1960: p. 101. 22 Cf. as a comprehensive study: BRYLD, WARRING 1998. 23 NISSEN 2005; LUND 2005; ANDERSEN 2003. 24 CHRISTENSEN, POULSEN, SCHARFF SMITH 2006. 25 WARRING 1994. 26 LYLLOFF 2006. 27 KNUDSEN 2001. 28 By now, the staff mainly consists of (former) students organizing the educational program for the annual Danish Holocaust Commemoration Day. 29 http://www.daniel-libeskind.com/projects/show-all/danish-jewish-museum. Bibliography S. ANDERSEN, Danmark i det tyske storrum – Dansk økonomisk tilpasning til Tysklands nyordning af Europa 1940–41, Copenhagen: Lindhardt og Ringhof, 2003. C. S. BANKE, Demokratiets skyggesigde. Flygtninge og menneskerettigh- eder. Danmark før Holocaust, Odense: Syddansk Universitetsforlag, 2005. N. BAMBERGER, The Viking Jews. A History of the Jews of Denmark, NY: Soncino, ²1990. S. L. BAK, Dansk Antisemitisme 1930–1945, Copenhagen: Aschehoug, 2004. S. L. BAK, Jødeaktionen oktober 1943. Forestillinger i offentlighed og forskn- ing, Copenhagen: Museum Tusculanum, 2001. M. BREGNSBO, Den danske vej. Om traditionen for den danske konsen- skultur, in Historie 29, 1996, pp. 311–327. C. BRYLD, A. WARRING, Besættelsestiden som kollektiv erindring. His- torie og traditionsforvaltning af krig og besættelse 1945–1997, Roskilde: Roskilde Universitetsforlag 1998. 259 Justice and Memory.indb 259 02.11.2009 13:39:44 C . B. CHRISTENSEN, N. B. POULSEN, P. SCHARFF SMITH, Under hagekors og Dannebrog. Danskere i Waffen-SS 1940–45, Copen- hagen: Aschehoug 2006. L. GOLDBERGER (ed.), The Rescue of the Danish Jews: Moral Courage under Stress, NY: New York University Press, 1987. H. KIRCHHOFF, „Et menneske uden pas er ikke noget menneske“. Danmark i den internationale flygtningepolitik 1933–1939, Odense: Syddansk Universitetsforlag, 2005. T. V. KRAGH, Grundtvigs syn på Israel, Copenhagen: Dansk Israels- mission, 1971. S. KRARUP, Harald Nielsen og hans tid, Copenhagen: Gyldendal, 1960. R. KRETH, M. MOGENSEN, Flugten til Sverige. Aktionen mod de danske jøder oktober 1943, Copenhagen: Gyldendal, 1995. P. Ø. KNUDSEN, Efter drabet. Beretninger om modstandskampens likvi- deriner, Copenhagen: Gyldendal, 2001. T. KUSHNER, Comparing Antisemitisms: A Useful Exercise?, in M. BRENNER, R. LIEDTKE, D. RECHTER (eds.), Two Nations: British and German Jews in Comparative Perspective, Tübingen: M. Siebeck, 1999, pp. 91–109. T. KUSHNER, The Persistence of Prejudice: Antisemitism in British Society during the Second World War, Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1989. J. LUND, Hitlers spisekammer. Danmark og den europæiske nyordning 1940–43, Copenhagen: Gyldendal 2005. K. LYLLOFF, Barn eller fjende? Uledsagede tyske flygtningebørn i Danmark 1945–1949, Copenhagen: Danmarks Pædagogiske Universitetsfor- lag, 2006. H. L. MARTENSEN, Die christliche Ethik, vol. II, Gotha: Besser, 1878. M. MOGENSEN, Det danske flygtningesamfund i Sverige og ”jødes- pørgsmålet” 1943–45, in J. LAURSEN et al., I tradition og kaos. Fest- skrift til Henning Poulsen, Aarhus: Aarhus University Press, 2000, pp. 150–160. M. R. NISSEN, Til fælles bedste – det danske landbrug under besættelsen, Copenhagen: Lindhardt og Ringhof, 2005. U. ØSTERGÅRD, Peasants and Danes: The Danish National Identity and Political Culture, in G. E. R. G. SUNY (ed.), Becoming National: A 260 Justice and Memory.indb 260 02.11.2009 13:39:44 Reader, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996, pp. 179–201. L. RÜNITZ, Af hensyn til konsekvenserne. Danmark og flygtningespørgsmålet 1933–1940, Odense: Syddansk Universitetsforlag, 2005. L. RÜNITZ, Danmark og de jødiske flygtninge 1933–1940. En bog om flygtninge og menneskerettigheder, Copenhagen: Museum Tuscula- num, 2000. V. Ö. VILHJÁLMSSON, Medaljens bagside. Jødiske flygtningeskæbner i Danmark 1933–1945, Copenhagen: Vandkunsten, 2005. T. WAGNER, Hans Lassen Martensen, in: Wolfgang BENZ (ed.), Hand- buch des Antisemitismus. Judenfeindschaft in Geschichte und Gegenwart, München: Saur, 2009, forthcoming. T. WAGNER, Belated Heroism: The Danish Lutheran Church and the Jews 1918–1945, in: K. P. SPICER (ed.), Antisemitism, Christian Ambivalence and the Holocaust, Bloomington–Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, published in association with the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, Washington, D.C, 2007, pp. 3–25. T. WAGNER, Overcoming Prejudice: The Danish Church and the Jews 1918–1945: Stepping into the Breach or Relativizing Anti- Semitism?, in Kirchliche Zeitgeschichte 16, 2003, T. WAGNER, Juden in Kopenhagen 1780–1820. Studien zu Emanzipation und Akkulturation, Technische Universität Berlin: unpublished M.A. Thesis, 1998. A. WARRING, Tyskerpiger. Under besættelse og retsopgør, Copen- hagen: Gyldendal 1994. L. YAHIL, The Rescue of Danish Jewry: Test of a Democracy, Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1969. 261 Justice and Memory.indb 261 02.11.2009 13:39:44 Justice and Memory.indb 262 02.11.2009 13:39:44 Remembering and Forgetting: Brief Reflections Justice and Memory.indb 263 02.11.2009 13:39:44 Justice and Memory.indb 264 02.11.2009 13:39:44 The Legacies of the Holocaust in Scandinavian Small State Foreign Policy Cecilie Felicia Stokholm Banke To some extent, the Holocaust as a universal legacy challenges the national narratives in many European countries. This development can be observed in small nation-states like those in Scandinavia, where adjusting to international moral standards is crucial and closely con- nected to security. Addressing crimes of the past and demanding historical justice is a way to get access to the international political scene. The past has become a moral guidepost which aids access to the international community – something of particular importance for small nations. Thus, examining the ways the national narratives are challenged by international moral standards, and how small na- tion-states respond to these challenges, can bring us closer to how and why the Holocaust has become important not only for global memory, but also in global politics. There is no question that during the 1990s, Denmark, Sweden and Norway experienced increased public and political interest for the Holocaust as a history that should be addressed specifically. Most well-known is the process started by the then Swedish Prime Min- ister, Göran Persson, who hosted four international conferences, Stockholm International Forums, from 2000 and through 2004, and established the public authority, Forum for Living History, whose mandate is to maintain the memory of the Holocaust and, through remembrance, help to prevent a similar crime. But also in Denmark and Norway, the Holocaust has been addressed specifically by several politicians, and both countries have officially apologised for their immoral conduct towards Jews – Denmark for denying 21 Jewish refugees entry from Germany in 1941, and Norway for participating in the systematic deportation of its Jews to Nazi Germany and/or to extermination camps. As such, the Scandinavian countries have fol- lowed in the footsteps of Germany and developed their own ways to 265 Justice and Memory.indb 265 02.11.2009 13:39:44 come to terms with, not only the darker sides of Second World War history, but also the Holocaust as a genocidal crime that has to be specifically addressed. To some extent this development might seem odd, at least consid- ering the war record of Denmark and Sweden. Why should Sweden – a presumably neutral country during the war – go through such a process? And why should Denmark – a country with a reputation for its heroic rescue of the Danish Jews – engage in such soul-searching? What could have made these countries examine the darker sides of their history, and, at least in the Danish case, issue an apology, as the Danish Prime Minister, Anders Fogh Rasmussen, did in 2005? To answer these questions, we need to look at the developments in the Scandinavian countries and relate them to what the French researcher, Ariel Colonomos, has termed the moralising of interna- tional relations during the 1990s1. What we see during the 1990s is an increased interest in human rights and international humanitarian law: Sanctions, humanitarian interventions, and demands for “clean historical records”. And this interest gives the Holocaust a new po- sition in the political culture developing in Europe after the fall of communism. With the growing interest in human rights, comes a growing interest for how nations behaved in the past. And what used to be primarily a West German characteristic becomes now a general norm for Europe. To be European is to come to terms with past atroci- ties, and thus specifically with the Holocaust. During the 1990s, and in the beginning of the 2000s, European states had to acknowledge their guilt in participating in various ways in the Holocaust. In Denmark, addressing the Holocaust specifically and investi- gating Denmark’s share of responsibility happened because of the Stockholm International Forums. Of course, in Denmark as in other countries, historians had shown an interest in Holocaust history. As elsewhere in Europe, Claude Lanzmann’s nine-hour documentary, Shoah, was shown on national television and had a strong impact on young scholars, as did the Hollywood-produced TV series, Holocaust, shown on national TV in 1979. But, the Holocaust was primarily seen as a German and a Jewish history, and Denmark was generally not included in this history. The dominant theme in national historiography since the end of the WWII was the Occupation and how Denmark managed to get through 266 Justice and Memory.indb 266 02.11.2009 13:39:44 the war without any major losses and damages. Not surprisingly, the experts on the history of the German occupation are numerous and productive. The interest in this particular part of Danish history has not decreased during the past decades. On the contrary, a quick look through the number of national, and scholarly, publications in this period shows that interest has only increased.2 As the most dominant theme in Danish historiography, the history of the German occupation has been revised twice, influenced by two generational waves, with each new generation writing its own version of national history. The first wave came during the 1970s, when a new generation of historians started questioning both the supposed hero- ism of the Resistance and the supposed innocent cooperation with the German occupiers. The second wave came during the 1990s, when journalists and young historians began to examine the Danish indus- trial and agricultural sectors, and their cooperation – even collaboration – with Nazi Germany. This new research of the 1990s was the starting point of a public debate on national history, and, in my view, paved the way for the Stockholm process to have an impact on Denmark. Here it is important to note that the new research, which showed other sides of the Occupation and the “innocent” cooperation with Nazi Germany, did not relate to the Holocaust. And there is a reason for that. As many know, Denmark has a specific status in the history of the extermination of Jews during the Second World War. In October 1943, about 7000 Jews from Denmark managed to escape to Sweden, and thus avoided deportation. The Danish rescue was, as described by one of those rescued, a miracle.3 It was a miracle created by mu- tual trust, very good internal communication, an easy escape route – Sweden is only an hour’s boat ride from the Danish coast – and Sweden’s willingness to accept the refugees. However, it might surprise some that it wasn’t until the late 1960s that the rescue received specific attention, and, when it did, it was because of developments outside of Denmark. Since the liberation of Denmark, the rescue of the Danish Jews was seen as an integral part of the story of Danish resistance to the Nazis. As international interest in the mass murder of Jews during the Second World War grew, however, the more narrow national interpretation of the Danish rescue was challenged from various sides. First, in 1963, the organization, “Thanks to the Danes” (later re- 267 Justice and Memory.indb 267 02.11.2009 13:39:45 named “Thanks to Scandinavia”), was launched by Richard Netter and Victor Borge in New York City as a means of expressing appre- ciation to the Scandinavian people for their heroic rescue of the Jews in Denmark. The Danish Prime Minister, Social Democrat Jens Otto Krag, attended the opening event, and, as Netter later recounted, had difficulty understanding the purpose of the new organisation. “Why pay homage to the Danes?” Krag, still entangled in the “occu- pation interpretation”, asked Netter at the ceremony.4 By attracting international attention to the rescue of the Danish Jews, “Thanks to Scandinavia” framed the rescue in an international context of per- secution of Jews all over Europe. Second, in 1963, the Danish Resistance as a whole was among the first to be included in Yad Vashem’s Righteous among the Nations because of its perceived pivotal role in the rescue. Among the individuals honoured with this title are also Raoul Wallenberg and Oskar Schindler. Third, in 1966, Leni Yahil published her influential book The Res- cue of Danish Jewry: A Test of Democracy. With Yahil’s book the rescue of the Danish Jews was interpreted in a wider frame of a European Holocaust. In brief, what Yahil argues is that Danish Jewry was saved because of strong democratic traditions in Denmark. The ideas presented in the book have shown a remarkable persistence and although academically outdated, the myths are still used by Danish politicians.5 These three examples indicate that the interpretation of the Danish rescue as a light in the European darkness found its origin and broad support abroad, especially in Israel and the United States. Through the private and official initiatives mentioned above, the history of Denmark during World War II was framed in the emerging inter- national Holocaust context. As a researcher trying to understand how the historical narratives relating to World War II history have changed and to determine the agents of such a change, one of Denmark’s interesting features is that it took foreign efforts to include the Danish rescue in the national narrative about the war. Addressing the Holocaust in and of itself, and not as a part of Second World War history, started in Denmark because of a development that happened outside, and at a time when national politicians did not even understand why. I think the example of how the rescue of the Danish Jews dur- 268 Justice and Memory.indb 268 02.11.2009 13:39:45 ing the war was paid special attention and included into the public memory of Danish WWII history, shows how national narratives are influenced and in some cases also challenged by international moral standards. Nathan Sznaider and Daniel Levy speak of cosmopolitan memory, and point to the Holocaust as the foremost example of how a history that was once of interest to a limited group eventually grew to nearly universal importance. In the Danish case, this development started when a group of people wanted to show their gratitude to the countries that helped them escape and avoid deportation. From this moment the “Danish Rescue” became a light in the darkness that Europe ever since has tried to come to terms with. The peculiar thing here is that Denmark was not even aware of this change. One reason could be that the growing international interest in the Danish rescue did not overshadow the dominant narrative within Denmark about the Occupation. The overall conclusions remained the same. Despite collaboration with Germany, Denmark, as a nation, managed to act democratically and according to global human rights standards. Unlike most other European countries, Danes rescued the Jews of Denmark. Denmark had not succumbed to Nazism, but cleverly cooperated with the Nazi regime as a means of saving Danish democracy and the Jews. The master narrative about the little, but very courageous, na- tion fighting silently against the Nazis, luring them to believe Danes were collaborators, was, by that time, not challenged by international Holocaust research. On the contrary, it looked like Denmark, as one of the few nations that could actually welcome this new historical trend could even use it to brand itself as a moral nation. Denmark’s Holocaust history remained uncontested until the late 1990s and Göran Persson. We cannot give Persson all the credit for the revision of the history of the Danish occupation, but it is, in my opinion, doubtful that Denmark, with its highly prized self-image, would have felt obliged, without Persson, to officially acknowledge its particular Holocaust guilt. The Stockholm process started in 1998 when Tony Blair, Bill Clin- ton, and Göran Persson decided to promote international cooperation on Holocaust education, remembrance, and research. This initiative was followed by four international conferences held each year in Stock- holm from 2000 to 2004. During the first Stockholm International 269 Justice and Memory.indb 269 02.11.2009 13:39:45 Forum in 2000, it was decided to designate January 27th as an official day of remembrance for the victims of the Holocaust. Since then, many countries have adopted this particular day as a remembrance day – Denmark in 2004.6 With these international conferences, Sweden under the leadership of the Social Democrat, Göran Persson, assumed the lead of what then could be described as a new moral regime, based on human rights and international humanitarian law. Or rather, Sweden reinstalled itself as one of the guiding moral nations, and this time by forcing other countries to address the darker sides of their history. This de- velopment happened as a number of new countries from the former communist world were about to become members of the European Union. To be a member of the European club meant, by that time, to come to terms with the past, and not just any past, but that dark and difficult past. For Sweden, leading the moral way for other nations was not such an unfamiliar role. Through the 1950s and 1960s, this was actually the role Sweden played in international politics. As a neutral country, Sweden was not weighted down by its actions during WWII and could walk directly onto the global stage as one of the righteous nations of the newly established UN. For example, the Swedish minister for disarmament at that time, Alva Myrdal (married to the famous Swed- ish economist, Gunnar Myrdal) was an active international player, working for peace and development. What was, however, unusual was that this role for Sweden now meant a new relationship with the Jewish community at home and a new relationship with Israel. Göran Persson’s visit to a synagogue in Stockholm, wearing a kippah, was a first for a Social Democratic leader. I will not elaborate more on this here except to mention that the Stockholm process also included a change for Scandinavian countries in their relation to Israel and the Middle East. The Stockholm process had a direct and immediate impact on Den- mark. There had been no national commission in Denmark until, in the wake of the Stockholm International Forum in January 2000, the Danish Centre for Holocaust and Genocide Studies was established.7 The first major task of the Centre was a large research project to investigate Danish policy towards Jewish refugees before and during the war. The Refugee Project, as it was called, was commissioned by 270 Justice and Memory.indb 270 02.11.2009 13:39:48 the Social Democratic Prime Minister, Poul Nyrup Rasmussen, as a response to the national debate concerning Denmark’s share of responsibility for the Holocaust. In early 2000, just after the first Stockholm International Forum, an article in the daily Berlingske Tidende argued that Danish authorities during the Second World War refused 21 Jewish refugees from Nazi Germany entry into the country and sent them back to an unknown fate – ultimately death in Auschwitz. The story generated considerable controversy, and the political response was a government-financed investigation into official Danish policy towards German-Jewish refu- gees. Prime Minister Poul Nyrup Rasmussen made an official statement on behalf of the Danish nation, and ordered an in-depth investiga- tion of this history: We cannot give the victims and their families their life back, nor can we remove the incredible sufferings people were exposed to then, but we can write the true history about what took place. And we can acknowledge our responsibility that this will never happen again. When this chapter of our history is written the government will, on behalf of the nation, express its attitude – also addressed to the relatives.8 Considering the well-known history of the rescue of the Danish Jews in October 1943, it may seem odd that Denmark should also examine its less heroic response to the killings of European Jews during the Second World War, and thus its national share of responsibility. Yet this extremely favourable image of Denmark as a kind of safe haven for Jews has gone through changes during the past decade. New books about a less flattering side of Denmark’s history dur- ing the occupation have tainted the previously pristine image and have fuelled renewed controversy about the hitherto widely accepted “policy of cooperation” raising questions about whether it was the wisest path a small occupied country like Denmark could follow, given the circumstances. The current historical debate in Denmark can be seen as taking place between two main schools: the moralists and the realists. The latter maintain a practical view as to what was possible for Denmark. The former hold a moralistic view as to how Denmark should have behaved. The division reflects how differently history can serve a society in the present, and how things that seem just and fair to one 271 Justice and Memory.indb 271 02.11.2009 13:39:48 generation, can be considered opportunistic by another. In the end, the outcome of the refugee research project led to Prime Minister Anders Fogh Rasmussen issuing an official apology in the National Memorial Park in Copenhagen on 4 May 2005. Fogh Rasmussen stated: The remembrance of the dark aspects of the occupation era is unfortunately also a part of the celebration of the sixtieth anniversary of the liberation of Denmark. Thus I would very much like – on this very occasion and in this location – on behalf of the government and thus the Danish state, to express regret and apologize for these acts. An apology cannot alter history. But it can contribute to the recognition of historic mistakes. So that present and future generations will hopefully avoid similar mistakes in the future.9 Looking at Norway, we see a similar development following the Stockholm process, even though Norway’s war record is very different from that of both Denmark and Sweden. Norway was, like Denmark, occupied, but carried out a more vigorous and violent resistance be- fore succumbing to occupation, and, unlike Denmark, the majority of Norwegian Jews were deported, in part with the help of locals. In this sense, Norway’s wartime history is more similar to the general European situation. The Belgian historian Pieter Lagrou examined how the memory of the Second World War is presented in a national and patriotic nar- rative in Belgium, France and the Netherlands. He discovered that, within this narrative, there is little room for the commemoration of events or groups whose history and experiences could not be utilized for post-war recovery. One of these groups was the Danish Jews, whose war experience was not only radically different from that of most of their country- men, but whose experiences could not be used within a meaningful national narrative. For Post-war societies “negative history” was of little interest, es- pecially when things were out of control. These societies needed a history of WWII that they could live with as nations, and which, at the same time could serve the future. And therefore, for many societies the focus on resistance was the most meaningful way to address the past, since resistance could generate some kind of moral meaning. After all, people did react against the occupying forces, and, after 272 Justice and Memory.indb 272 02.11.2009 13:39:48 all, this resistance eventually bore fruit, and was rewarded.10 In Norway’s WWII history, we can observe the same focus on resist- ance against the occupying forces. As described by the Norwegian historian, Ingjerd Veiden Brakstad, the Norwegian memory of WWII is very much shaped by patriotic memory. However, in Norway we find that the experience of the Norwegian Jews was in fact known in several ways in the immediate post-war years (most importantly in the press). By presenting the Deportation of the Jews as a solely German pursuit and completely at odds with what was said to be the Norwe- gian core values, the memory of what had happened to Norwegian Jews could serve a purpose within the national narrative. The symbolic embrace of the Jews and their suffering was portrayed as natural to all “good Norwegians.” This rhetoric portrayed Norwe- gians as protectors of “their” Jews, and as immune to anti-Semitic influences. That Norwegians had participated in the deportations of Jewish countrymen and that Norwegians were not, in fact, immune to anti-Semitism was hardly ever an issue in this context. In this way the memory of the Jewish experiences could serve a purpose in the national epos needed in the post-war years – as a symbol of German cruelty and Norwegian humanism.11 Coming back to the initial aim of this paper, namely some reflec- tions on the relation between the legacies of the Holocaust and the foreign policy of Scandinavian small-states, the Stockholm process challenged the national narratives in these countries with the demand to adjust to international moral standards. Not least in the Danish case we see a widely respected narrative, namely the one on the Danish rescue of Jews in October 1943, being challenged as a consequence of the Stockholm process. The logic be- hind the official apology, and thus admittance of Denmark’s share of responsibility to the Holocaust, is that Denmark is “such a pure and moral nation”, that it can afford to acknowledge this particular dark side of the past, as both the Social Democratic prime minister Poul Nyrup Rasmussen, and later the following Anders Fogh Rasmussen from the Liberal Party, did. Some would even claim that Fogh Rasmussen instrumentalised the narrative about the Occupation, when the liberal-conservative government broke the general consensus around the course of Dan- ish foreign policy, by joining the Iraq coalition in 2003 and bringing 273 Justice and Memory.indb 273 02.11.2009 13:39:48 Denmark into a new role in international activism. In a speech held during the commemoration of the August rebellion in 1943, when the Danes held a strike for the first time and thereby showed their resistance against the Germans, Fogh stated that the politics of co- operation was “a moral decline”.12 No minister had ever openly questioned this relatively solid histori- cal consensus. What Denmark did during the Occupation was, up to that point, officially considered a wise and prudent policy for a small nation like Denmark. The policy of cooperation brought the society safely through the war, saved most of the Jews, and managed eventually to place Denmark on the winning side. But in his speech of August 2003, Fogh questioned the historical consensus, and did so just before Denmark entered the Iraqi war, introducing a new activist foreign policy for Denmark. This particular speech provoked a huge debate in Denmark about how history serves a society, and how one is allowed to judge the past. Fogh used the past to justify a shift within the foreign policy and security doctrine, and brought Denmark into the war in Iraq.13 In conclusion, I would like to comment on Moshe Zimmerman’s remarks during his presentation about how the Munich-agreement of 1938 has become a shortcut in some Israeli political argumentation. I think that both in the Danish and in the Israeli cases, we can observe a certain degree of historicism in present elite political discourse, where the past is used not to inform, but to justify, a specific policy in the present. The past has become a justificatory argument for some politicians. Even though the Stockholm process started out as a new moral orientation based on human rights and international standards, the process has in some cases led to historicism and an exaggerated use of the past in present politics, both nationally and internationally. Notes 1 COLONOMOS 2008. 2 LAURIDSEN 2002. 3 FOIGHEL 2007. 4 Richard Netter interview in the Danish newspaper Politiken, 11 March 1993. Translation by the author. 274 Justice and Memory.indb 274 02.11.2009 13:39:48 5 E.g. Mr. Bertel HAARDER in Berlingske Tidende 2008 about the “history canon”; Anders Fogh RASMUSSEN in Washington Post 2002, cf. Sofie Lene BAK, HiA review. 6 On the history of Task Force for International Cooperation of Holocaust Re- membrance, Education and Research, see KROH 2008. 7 For the establishment of the Danish center, see ØSTERGAARD 2000. In 2003 the center merged by law into the Danish Institute for International Studies, DIIS, see Lov om etablering af Dansk Center for Internationale Studier og Men- neskerettigheder, in Lov nr 411 af 06/06/2002. 8 Quoted in RÜNITZ 2005: p. 7. 9 The entire speech was published in Danish in the daily Berlingske Tidende, 5 May 2005. 10 LAGROU 2000. 11 BRAKSTAD 2007. 12 Speech, PM Anders Fogh Rasmussen, “60 året for 29. august 1943”, 29 August 2003. 13 Speech, PM Anders Fogh Rasmussen, “Visioner om Danmarks aktive Europapoli- tik”, 23 September 2003. See also Hans MOURITZEN 2007, The “Presence of the Past”: Theorizing the Interplay of Past and Present Geopolitics in Contemporary Foreign Policy, project description, September 2, 2007, www.diis.dk. Bibliography C. F. S. BANKE, Demokratiets skyggeside. Flygtninge og menneskerettigh- eder i Danmark før Holocaust, Odense: Syddansk Universitetsforlag, 2005. C. F. S. BANKE, Remembering Europe’s Heart of Darkness, in M. PAKIER and B. STRÅTH (eds.), A European Memory? Contested Histories and Politics of Remembrance, Oxford: Berghahn Books, 2010. S. L. BAK, Jødeaktionen oktober 1943. Forestillinger i offentlighed og forskn- ing, København: Museum Tusculanums Forlag, 2001. I. V. BRAKSTAD: Okkupasjon, motstand og myter – Den patriotiske minnekulturen og jødeforfølgelserne, in Fortid nr. 2-2007. A. COLONOMOS, Moralizing International Relations: Called to Account, New York: Palgrave MacMillan, 2008. I. FOIGHEL, The Danish Miracle, København: Christian Ejlers Forlag, 2007 H. KIRCHHOFF, Et menneske uden pas er ikke noget menneske, Odense: Syddansk Universitetsforlag, 2005. H. KIRCHHOFF and L. RÜNITZ, Udsendt til Tyskland, Odense: Syd- 275 Justice and Memory.indb 275 02.11.2009 13:39:48 dansk Universitetsforlag, 2007. J. KROH, Transnationale Erinnerung, Der Holocaust im Fokus geschich- tspolitischer Initiativen, Frankfurt/M: Campus Verlag, 2008. P. LAGROU, The Legacy of Nazi Occupation. Patriotic Memory and National Recovery in Western Europe, 1945–1965, New York: Cambridge Universtiy Press, 2000. J. T. LAURIDSEN, Samarbejde og modstand. Danmark under den tyske besættelse 1940–45. En bibliografi, København: Museum Tusculanums Forlag, 2002. D. LEVY and N. SZNAIDER, The Holocaust and Memory in the Global Age, Philadelphia: Tempel University Press, 2006. L. RÜNITZ, Af hensyn til konsekvenserne. Danmark og flygtnin- gespørgsmålet 1933–1940, Odense: Syddansk Universitetsforlag, 2005. U. ØSTERGAARD, Holocaust, folkedrab, folkemord og europæiske værdier, in Folkemord, Den Jyske Historiker, Nr. 90, December 2000. 276 Justice and Memory.indb 276 02.11.2009 13:39:49 Two Sides of the Coin: Clean Break and Usable History The Case of Hungary András Kovács The famous slogan of the East-European Communist parties – “ein- holen und überholen” (to make up and overtake the West) – has actually been realised only in one field: memory politics. This happened, however, in a strange way: in former communist countries the de- mand for a clean break was fulfilled immediately after the seizure of power, that is in the late 1940s and early 1950s. The fierce debates of the early post-war years were abruptly stopped, and a boring, official Manichean narrative took their place. This narrative was constructed around the heroic struggle of Good vs. Evil, with the Communist parties and movements representing the former, and all other play- ers representing the latter. Depicted as conscious or unconscious representatives of the exploiting classes, these players represented reaction, as opposed to Communist progress. It is no surprise that the fall of the old system did not spark a resounding demand for a clean break with the past, but exactly the opposite: a total revision of the former ruling narrative. The vehement struggles to shape and master historical memory were among the most striking phenomena accompanying the transition. As one commentator stated at the time, the public debates exhibited “a rage for the past, an obsession with history”.1 And indeed, the debates on pre- and post-war Polish anti- Semitism, on the expulsion of German and other minorities from post-war Poland, Czechoslovakia and Hungary, on the Slovak puppet state and on the Benes-decrees in the Czech Republic and Slovakia, on the role of Marshal Antonescu in Romania, on the nature and responsibility of the so called Horthy-system in Hungary, on the sub- stance of the Hungarian revolution in 1956 and many others indicate that history became a central issue in public controversies. The reason for all this was not only that freedom of speech and expression liberated new energies and created broad spaces for de- 277 Justice and Memory.indb 277 02.11.2009 13:39:49 bating everything that was not possible to discuss earlier. The quest for truth was undoubtedly an important factor in these debates. But this alone fails to explain the vehemence and the emotionally-loaded atmosphere of all these controversies. The explanation for this should be sought in the characteristics of the political actors of the transi- tion. A particular problem faced by the rival political camps, parties and organisations established after 1989 was the task of establishing clear and distinct identities. It was not a simple issue at all. Political identities are usually constructed on the basis of well distinguish- able political programs, long existing political traditions, traditional electorates, specific ideologies, etc. However, the political programs of the new parties and camps were in many respects identical. This was fully understandable, since all of them had entered the political arena with the intention of winding up the Communist system and replacing it with capitalism and parliamentary democracy. After the decades of dictatorship, they, obviously, could not have a traditional electorate, either. When they entered the political arena it was abso- lutely not clear which groups in society supported them. And finally their historical traditions – if they existed at all, like in the case of the social-democrats, the different peasant parties, the liberals – had become rather blurred in the long decades of non-existence. There- fore, they did not have too many alternatives, except attempting to forge an identity in the symbolic sphere. In this situation, there were two fundamentally different methods of creating identity at the symbolic level. The parties’ first method was to position themselves somewhere along the western political spectrum, by indicating an allegiance to a Western political group- ing. The second method for manifesting identity was to express a relationship with certain emblematic periods, events or individuals of national history. Consequently among the various parties, and the intellectual camps behind them, there was a great struggle to appropri- ate history and to demonstrate historical tradition and continuity. An important aspect of this struggle on the battlefield of identity politics was the relationship to the politics of the stormy post-WWI period. In the case of Hungary, this meant the Horthy regime. It was almost inevitable that the state-sanctioned anti-Semitism of the interwar period, Hungary’s participation in the Second World War 278 Justice and Memory.indb 278 02.11.2009 13:39:49 as an ally of fascist Germany, and Hungarian responsibility for the persecution of the Jews would become issues of the identity politics debate. This trend was strengthened by a sociological factor: the pres- ence of a large number of historians, philosophers, and sociologists among the newly active politicians – for whom the area of identity creation was a natural sphere. The Hungarian identity debates share structural similarities with two debates conducted in Western Europe: Germany’s “historians’ dispute” and the anti-fascism-communism or totalitarianism debate (conducted mainly in France and in Germany).2 As is known, in the 1970s and 1980s some German historians and writers who went out to argue for the historical embeddedness and legitimacy of modern conservatism in Germany realised that, after the years of Nazi rule, it was only possible to legitimise Germany’s conservative tradition by demonstrating that the extreme right wing in the Weimar Republic, the Nazi Party, and the Third Reich itself were not inevitable historical and political consequences of the imperial authoritarian state and pre-1933 conservatism. The argumentation of Nolte and various other historians in the conservative camp was directed at interpreting the development of fascism as a pan-Eu- ropean response to the crisis of classical liberalism and at viewing its manifestation in Germany – Nazism – as a reaction to Bolshevik dictatorship. Thus, it was not seen as an inherent consequence of German history but as a development spurred on by external factors. Associated with this train of thought was a criticism of “anti-fascism” – particularly the version of it functioning as the official ideology in the German Democratic Republic. Communist anti-fascism and its Western counterparts were viewed simply as means for legitimizing the communist dictatorship by depicting conservatism as a predeces- sor to or even as a prototype of fascism. A similar argumentation strategy was used by conservative his- torians in Hungary after the change of the political regime. Like their counterparts in Germany’s “historians’ dispute”, conservative participants in the Hungarian debate sought to recreate the continu- ity of the conservative national tradition. In order to do so they, too, had to create a sharp distinction between the intentions of national conservatives and the events that happened under their rule, like col- laboration with Nazi Germany, anti-Jewish legislation, persecution 279 Justice and Memory.indb 279 02.11.2009 13:39:49 of the Jews, and the historical developments that led to the seizure of power by the Hungarian fascists, the Arrow Cross party, in 1944. According to the basic argument of the conservatives both the pro- Nazi extreme right-wing and Soviet-style communism were tenden- cies alien or even hostile to the Hungarian political tradition. They could acquire power (or the vestiges of power) only through external pressure and assistance. This struggle was determined by so called geopolitical realities. Both the extreme right-wing in 1944 and the communists in 1948 could seize power only because of the country’s geopolitical position and the insensitivity of the major western pow- ers to Hungary’s western Christian commitment. In this discourse, the “derailing” of Hungarian history is the result of the unjust peace treaty signed at Trianon after the First World War, a treaty dictated by the Western powers. This calamity explains the failure of Hungarian liberalism and the increasing dominance of radical anti-liberal politics. Attempts to achieve a legitimate revision of Trianon forced honourable Hungarian conservatism into an alliance with Germany, and pushed it into the pincers of German demands and the ambitions of the domestic pro-Nazi extreme right wing. Anti- Semitic legislation was a consequence of this alliance: the anti-Semitic laws were concessions made to the Germans in order to prevent a more brutal persecution of the Jews; they served also as means of silencing the Hungarian extreme right. Thanks to these laws, however – and to the fact that the Horthy regime resisted demands for deportation of Jews until the country’s occupation by German forces – the largest Jewish community in the German sphere of influence could more or less survive until the German invasion of the country in March 1944. Though Horthy remained in his position even after the invasion, that is at the time of the deportation of more than a half-a-million Jews, he is nevertheless credited with saving a significant portion of Hungarian Jewry. Had he resigned in March 1944 – so the argument goes – the majority of the Jews in Budapest would not have survived the war; they survived only because Horthy stopped further deporta- tions from Hungary following the deportation of Hungary’s provin- cial Jews. Responsibility for the Holocaust is therefore borne solely by the German occupiers and the collaborators of the Arrow Cross, who constituted only a minority and were radical opponents of the conservative governments. Participation in the war on the side of the 280 Justice and Memory.indb 280 02.11.2009 13:39:49 Nazis was, on the one hand, a geopolitical necessity and, on the other, acceptable even from a moral point of view, since the war was being fought against another totalitarian dictatorship (the Soviet Union). The predominant view of the post-war decades, the total condemnation of the entire Horthy era as a type of proto-fascism or semi-fascism and its exclusion from the set of acceptable and valuable historical traditions, serves only the apologetic aims of Marxian-Communist historiography: in the name of anti-fascism, such a view justified the violent destruction of the traditional Hungarian Christian conserva- tive forces after 1945. The reified form of this argumentation is the widely debated exhibition of the Terror House Museum (opened in 2001), which presents the history of the two dictatorships – the Arrow Cross and the Communists – as the result of the loss of the country’s independence, first in 1944, then in 1948. The clear message of the exhibition is that without foreign domination Hungary would not have ever left the world of European democracies and, consequently, the responsibility for the Holocaust and for the misdeeds of the Com- munist regime lie on the side of the two totalitarian regimes that had forced the country to derail from its own track. The successive waves of debates concerning Hungarian history were stirred by a great variety of issues, and they have not remained inside of the circle of historians and intellectuals.3 The disputes were im- mediately raised into the political sphere as leading politicians of the period, such as the Prime Minister, József Antall, and the foreign min- ister, Géza Jeszenszky, entered the fray. It was Antall who most clearly summed up the basic argument of the conservative narrative: [. . .] The compelling circumstances were able to force us into alliances, to force us into wars, which the Hungarian people did not feel to be their own, which they did not want to fight, but which they had no choice but to do so. [. . .] But let nobody reproach us for being on the wrong side, because usually we were forced onto the wrong side. With our suppressed wars of independence and our proud national revo- lutions, we always sought to show our real intentions, and when we were abandoned and we stood alone, we were forced into frameworks of state and political alliances, as a logical consequence of which we were placed on the wrong side. Thereafter, punishment was our lot.4 In this discourse, the main means of realising the purpose of the discourse is to contrast the “internal” and the “external”, the “organi- 281 Justice and Memory.indb 281 02.11.2009 13:39:49 cally developed” and “forced”, the “historical national substance” and the “accidents, alien to the nation”. Within this model, the conserva- tive narrative struggled to separate the “accidental” path leading to the Hungarian Holocaust from the “substantial” path of Hungarian history. In so doing, it interpreted the Holocaust as an “external” and imposed event. The argument interpreting the Holocaust as a consequence of the Trianon Peace Treaty was used again by József Antall in a speech in memory of Pál Teleki (the Hungarian prime minister who wholeheartedly supported anti-Semitic laws while opposing Nazi Germany, and who eventually committed suicide in 1941 after admitting that it was impossible for Hungary to leave the German alliance).5 Antall said the following: Between the two world wars, Pál Teleki’s name was linked to laws and regulations that have raised doubts and given occasion for unilateral judgment. [. . .] Pál Teleki was the representative of a conservative philosophy, but not of some kind of backwardness. Instead, he represented traditionalism and the preservation of values. Moreover, acknowledging the country’s geopolitical situation, he sought compromise solutions to the great political challenges of the era, and any search for compromise may at times be accompanied by appeasement policies and temporary setbacks . . .6 On another occasion, Antall said: Legislation against the Jews [. . .] cannot be explained or accepted. From a legal or human standpoint, it is never acceptable; historically, however, it may be rationalised in a variety of different ways.7 For sure, the great majority of conservative participants in the identity politics debates were not anti-Semitic. There was no hidden anti-Se- mitic message behind the arguments of Antall, and the others. The restoration of a political system similar to the one of the Horthy era was not the aim of their policy either – as their agitated partners in the debate often claimed. Nevertheless, their neo-conservative image of history did undoubtedly have certain elements which, in a different context, may have formed part of an anti-Semitic discourse. Against such attempts at re-contextualisation, the conservative discourse of- ten proved defenseless. Thus, willingly or unwillingly, it provided a point of reference for those extreme rightists who sought to renew and re-legitimise anti-Semitism. 282 Justice and Memory.indb 282 02.11.2009 13:39:49 If pre-Holocaust Hungarian mainstream politics was not responsi- ble for what happened to the Jews of the country, then the post-war demand to take responsibility for it has not only been unjust – argued the representatives of the emerging extreme right already in 1990 – but it has also served as an effective tool in the struggle for control over political power. This is the point where the openly anti-Semitic discourse diverged from the conservative one. This discourse was dominated by the theme of traditional Hungarian anti-Semitism: the nightmare vision of an alien and excessive Jewish power, based on an international concentration of forces which endangers the substance of the Hungarian collective. The common feature of these views is that they tried to find forms of expression which do not contradict the consensus on the illegitimate nature of overt anti-Semitism in the post-Holocaust era and in the Hungarian public sphere. Consequently, they denied any anti-Semitic orientation and rejected the charge of anti-Semitism. In this discourse, the acknowledgment and condemna- tion of the persecution of the Jews actually served to legitimise the anti-Semitic content. “I am not an anti-Semite,” wrote István Csurka, the successful writer of the Kadar era, the best known representative of the new trend. This was in response to the charges already raised against him at the beginning of the 90s. I have never offended a person or group because of race, religion, skin colour, or ethnic background: I consider what happened to the Jews prior to and during World War II to be the shame of 20th-century Europe; as a human being and a writer I considered it my moral duty to salute the memory of the victims, and that is what I have done.8 In line with the conservative argument in the historian’s debate, Csurka also condemned the culprits: the Germans and their Hun- garian collaborators, members of the Arrow Cross. Nevertheless, he was not prepared to accept that the anti-Semitism of the murderers had anything in common with the anti-Semitism that enjoyed wide- spread support in Hungarian culture and politics before the physical persecution of Jews began. And at this point the argument devi- ated from the conservative path, veering in the direction of blatant legitimisation of the pre-war Hungarian anti-Semitism. In his view “traditional” Hungarian anti-Semitism was a reasonable reaction to specific social problems. 283 Justice and Memory.indb 283 02.11.2009 13:39:50 The horrors of Nazism and the Second World War had to happen so that the problem of the Hungarian Jews could be removed from the columns of the newspapers and periodicals and replaced with reports about the seizure of property, yellow stars, and deportation. Because of the Holocaust and its consequences, these problems and their continuity could not be discussed and solved in a “Hungarian way”. According to Csurka, in the period after the Second World War, the general conduct of Jews and the specific role played by Communist politicians of Jewish descent are understandable and explicable, but nevertheless harmful and vicious. Csurka willingly acknowledged that the Communist Jews represented only a minority among the survivors; nevertheless, they were able to use the fears of the Jewish majority for their own manipulative purposes. They presented the communist system as the sole guarantee that the former anti-Semitic system would not return. Therefore, it was not only the Communist Jews who supported the system en masse after 1945. According to Csurka, “the left-wing in Hungary, even the Communist remnant, enjoyed the financial support of the former middle-class liberal Jews. . .”9 This alliance was the basis of the evolving strategy of a “preventive strike”: the fear of anti-Semitism mobilised nearly all Jews to use the favorable post-war political conditions created by the shock of the Holocaust for seizing key positions in the economy, in politics and in media in order to defend the collective “Jewish interests”. This made post-war Communism “Jewish”, and at the same time destructive from the point of view of the nation, since the new rulers could only find foreign political supporters and allies, whose interests stood in obvious contradiction to the interests of the nation. Rationally explicable by the horrors of the Holocaust, this “Jewish strategy” spanned political systems and remained unaltered despite its changing appearance. According to the representatives of the ex- treme right discourse, there is a striking continuity between the Com- munist and post-Communist system. After the fall of Communism, Jews were able to maintain their previous power by employing the same method as before, that is the manipulation of fears concerning anti-Semitism both in Hungary and abroad. The former Communist Jews are linked by a secret thread to Jews who opposed the former political system. The experiences and the memory of persecution 284 Justice and Memory.indb 284 02.11.2009 13:39:50 trigger the same reactions in them despite the seemingly different political views. The former Communists and the present liberals con- tinuously use the charge of anti-Semitism in order to delegitimise the anti-Communist national forces. For the Jews, who have been living in constant fear ever since the Holocaust, anything that happens in the interest of the nation is threatening, and the defensive reactions are immediately set in motion. Whenever organisations representing national interests appear, they immediately have to be subdued or incapacitated. If personalities make an appeal in public to the nation, then they have to be silenced. This can be done, again, only with the support of powerful allies, that is by using the international Jewish financial and media power. Thus, new foreign masters appeared who no longer live in Moscow but in New York and in Tel Aviv. “It’s a war now, a domestic Hungarian cold war, between the Hungarian people and the domineering foreigners . . .” wrote Csurka.10 “They’ve forced a financial system and a colonial financial management adminis- tration on us which [. . .] aims to establish a secure zone, refugee camp and hinter- land for the perpetual war in the Middle East. For all this to happen, the primary need is that others rather than Hungarians should dispose of Hungarian assets, or Hungarians who are reliable as far as the Middle East is concerned and who profit from the transaction.”11 The “final aim is the extermination of Hungarians. Not by using weapons or poison gas, but by financial policy means, by removing livelihood opportunities, and by leading them towards self-destruction.”12 Thus, old anti-Semitic structures were transformed for the simplifi- cation and rationalization of the trauma and new political conflicts caused by the transition to liberal capitalism and by joining suprana- tional organizations. The tensions caused by economic and cultural globalisation were portrayed as a conflict between cosmopolitan and national interests, the consequences of joining the process of inter- national integration as the loss of national sovereignty, and the social consequences of the economic and political transition as the result of being at the mercy of colonial masters. Meanwhile, either covertly, in coded form, or overtly, the image of the Jew as destroyer of the nation was evoked as the domestic agent of the colonizing Foreigner – thus the old cliché of a Jewish conspiracy. This message is embedded in a historical narrative, again, suggesting an unbroken continuity between the problems – and the reason for the problems – of the pre-1945 285 Justice and Memory.indb 285 02.11.2009 13:39:50 period as well as the Communist and the post-Communist periods. In this case the historical narrative has a direct political function, too: it connects historical clichés with present-day tensions in order to mobilize the losers of the transition for political purposes. At first glance the position of the left does not seem to be problem- atic with regard to the period and events under discussion. The leftist discourse presents itself as the natural inheritor of the moral capital of the anti-fascist camp of the interwar period. The legitimative nature of the discourse occurs first when the left – in the Hungarian case a descendent of the former ruling party – tends to present itself as the exclusive significant representative of anti-fascism and anti-racism. This discourse is ready to accept responsibility, but only on behalf of “others,” and its representatives seem to discover the descendants of all the “others” in the ranks of their present-day political opponents. The main problem concerning the leftist discourse is not only that it neglects the existence of an important non-Communist democratic tradition in prewar Hungary (for example social-democracy which was destroyed exactly by communist policy), but also its selective and relativising perception of the Communist past. The attempts of relativisation have occurred most obviously in the leftist discourse on the 1956 revolution, most notably in 2006 in the course of the fiftieth anniversary events. Not wanted to alienate party militants and voters for whom 1956 still represented a counter-revolution against the so- cialist order, Ferenc Gyurcsány, the Socialist prime minister and party leader at the time, declared on several occasions that all histories of 1956, that is that of the revolutionaries and that of their adversaries were equally valid. Consequently, the narrative which legitimised the executions and persecutions after the revolution, and the narrative of the other side must both be accepted as valid – independently from political choice and preference. Naturally, a similar argument con- cerning the pre-war and wartime history would be radically attacked. For these problems, selectivity is the most characteristic trait of the leftist discourse. The left is reluctant to accept that anti-fascism as well as the political instrumentalisation of anti-fascism, which served the destruction of democratic political opponents after 1945, are both part of its heritage. In the postwar decade, whether someone was placed in the category of a “fascist” with devastating consequences often had nothing to do with the person’s role before 1945. The most 286 Justice and Memory.indb 286 02.11.2009 13:39:50 notorious example of this is how fast “junior-ranking members of the Arrow Cross Party” were transferred to the Communist Party as “mis- led workers” – a subject which is effectively visualised and exploited by the exhibition in the “House of Terror”. Additionally, nowadays, as in the Polish and in the Hungarian case, it is a well-documented fact that postwar communist politics instrumentalised and used anti- Semitism in order to gain popular support in the postwar years. In Hungary, some Communist-organized anti-capitalist demonstrations against “black-marketeering” turned into anti-Jewish pogroms in pro- vincial cities. Even in the post-1965 decades, in the period of the “soft dictatorship”, Communist politics constantly recreated the “Jewish question”, even if it refused to tolerate overt anti-Semitism (as was the case in Hungary). Recently discovered documents prove that even in Hungary, Communist party and government organs regularly took note of whether individuals falling under their scrutiny were Jewish or non-Jewish. Whenever Jewish origin was considered to be a risk, the individuals involved were subjected to discriminative measures based exclusively on their descent (defined basically according to the Nuremberg laws).13 Thus, since the debates about history took place in a political con- text, their political instrumentalisation rapidly ensued. For the left, the most effective means of shattering the legitimacy of the conservative position in the eyes of the public was to call attention to the possibility of a hidden agenda, namely the reconstruction of the prewar anti- Semitic system, behind it. Meanwhile, the conservatives – employing a similar strategy – attempted to portray their liberal and left wing opponents as covert or overt apologists for the communist regime hiding behind the veil of anti-fascism with the purpose of securing the ruling position of the old communist elite. Instead of a perhaps cathartic confrontation with the different and differently terrible pasts, usable histories were constructed. The past has been presented so that it could justify contemporary political positions and serve as a weapon against opponents. In this way the usable histories fulfill their identity function: by virtue of their symbolic significance, the position taken in these debates gradually became a code of political identity. In order to express political choice it became sufficient to take a side in the debate about a historical exhibition; instead of arguing for or against a political program, or concrete policies, it became sufficient 287 Justice and Memory.indb 287 02.11.2009 13:39:50 to delineate the “historical pedigree” of the opponent in order to contest his political legitimacy. If taking sides in a historical debate substitutes for taking part in political conflicts, if the positions in a Historikerstreit function as direct political codes, despite the intensity and sharpness of the debate, the payoff will be the same as in the case of a clean break: it is not to expect that politically instrumentalised historical memory will be able to fulfill its real political mandate. Notes 1 CSAPLÁR 1991. 2 The basic texts of the German “Historikerstreit” see Historikerstreit, München: Piper Verlag, 1987; On the anti-fascism debate see GRUNENBERG 1993. The French debates were mainly dealing with the book of COURTOIS et al. 1997. 3 For a historical review (a critique with commentaries), see KARSAI 1992; BRA- HAM 2001. 4 ANTALL 1993, pp. 270–271. 5 Jeszenszky - kitapsolt párhuzam. Holocaust-tanácskozás Budapesten, in Magyar Hírlap, 6 April 1994 (vol. XXVII, no. 79), p. 4. And: “Kitapsolták” Jeszenszky Gézát, in: Magyar Nemzet, 6 April 1994 (vol. LVIII, no. 79), p. 1 and p. 5. 6 He then continues: “. . .There is nothing more unhistorical than to take one or two sections from the life works of Pál Teleki and to view and judge them from the perspective of events that happened subsequently and from the perspec- tive of political principles that were later compromised. . .” In ANTALL 1993: p. 109. For an interpretation of Hungary’s role in the Second World War, see also Dr.Antall József miniszterelnök beszéde a Hadtörténeti Múzeumban 1992. január 11-én (Prime Minister Dr József Antall’s speech in the Museum of Military History on 11 January 1992), in: Magyar Fórum, vol. IV, no. 4, 23 January 1992, pp. 11–13. 7 ANTALL: pp. 582. 8 See: Csurka István nyilatkozata és válaszlevele (István Csurka’s Report and Answer Letter), in: Magyar Nemzet, 20 January 1990 (vol. LIII, no. 17.), p. 7. 9 Ibid., p. 11. 10 CSURKA 1995a. 11 CSURKA 1995b. 12 CSURKA 1998. 13 See KOVACS 2004. 288 Justice and Memory.indb 288 02.11.2009 13:39:50 Bibliography J. ANTALL, Modell és valóság [Model and Reality], vol. II, Budapest: Athenaeum Nyomda Rt., 1993. R. L. BRAHAM, Assault on historical memory, in C. R. BROWNING, Hungary and the Holocaust: Confrontation with the Past. Symposium Proceedings, Washington, D.C.: Center for Advanced Holocaust Studies, United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, 2001. S. COURTOIS, N. WERTH, J. PANNÉ, K. BARTOSEK, J. MARGO- LIN, A. PACZKOWSKI (eds.), Le livre noir du Communism, Paris: Robert Laffont, 1997. V. CSAPLÁR, Múltak osztogatása [Distribution of pasts], in Ring, 26 March 1991. I. CSURKA, 1995a, Helyszíni közvetítés [Running Commentary], in Magyar Fórum, 23 March 1995, p. 2. I. CSURKA, 1995b,Helyszíni közvetítés [Running Commentary], in Magyar Fórum, 20 July 1995, p. 2. I. CSURKA, Minden, ami van [All There is], in Magyar Fórum, 5 February 1998, p. 2. A. GRUNENBERG, Antifaschismus – ein deutscher Mythos, Reinbek bei Hamburg: Rowohlt, 1993. L. KARSAI, A Shoah a Magyar sajtóban 1989–1991 [The Shoah in the Hungarian press 1989–91], in E. FERENC, M. M. KOVÁCS and Y KASHTI (eds.), Zsidóság, identitás történelem, Budapest: T- Twins Kiadó, 1992, pp. 59-84. A. KOVACS: Hungarian Jewish Politics from the End of the Second World War until the Collapse of Communism, in E. MENDEL- SOHN (ed.), Jews and the State. Dangerous Alliances and the Perils of Privilege. Studies in Contemporary Jewry, XIX, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004, p. 124–156. 289 Justice and Memory.indb 289 02.11.2009 13:39:50 Justice and Memory.indb 290 02.11.2009 13:39:51 Confronting War Crimes of the Wehrmacht Walter Manoschek Conflicts Waged to Define the Memory of the Wehrmacht “One day, the extraordinary achievements of the front and home- land will find their rightful appreciation in the judgment of history. [. . .] For this reason, every soldier can proudly and honourably put down his arms.” Thus concludes the final situation report made by the Commanding General of the Wehrmacht on May 9, 1945. With this proclamation, the war was officially ended and the controversy about how the war was to be remembered was opened.1 And for a long time it appeared as though the campaign waged to define the memory of the war would be more successful than the actual war itself. “The German army’s greatest victory,” as Omer Bartov wrote, “was won on the field of politics, for here it was possible to return without any challenge from the most murderous military campaign in German history.”2 Auschwitz as the Symbolic Site of the Holocaust Up into the 1960s, National Socialist crimes were predominantly rep- resented in public memory as crimes perpetrated by the Nazi elite. Research focusing on Hitler and other Nazi elites served the German’s and Austrian’s need to free themselves from their own history. Other groups of perpetrators first became part of the collective memory of the Second World War during the 1960s, in part as a result of Adolf Eichmann’s trial. From this point on, all those institutions whose members had actively played a role in the concentration camps and death camps, not only the Nazi elite, were associated with National Socialist crimes and the Holocaust. Finally during the 1960s, a pub- 291 Justice and Memory.indb 291 02.11.2009 13:39:51 licly acknowledged, to some extent coherent portrayal of the largest methodically-planned mass murder in history began to become more concrete. “Auschwitz” became the symbolic place and a metaphor for the entirety of what had occurred. “Auschwitz” emphasised the most radical and grotesque form of extermination. It is true that only relatively few knew about and directly participated in what was actually happening on the level of the extreme case of “Auschwitz.” With “Auschwitz” as the focus of attention, the forms of extermina- tion which went under the pretence of conventional warfare along with their protagonists faded into the background. What occurred, in the words of Jan Philipp Reemtsma, was an “obfuscation through emphasising the extreme.”3 “Emphasising the extreme” served an exonerating sociopoliti- cal function. Through concentrating on the crimes committed by fanatical National Socialist perpetrators, a relatively small segment of the population, it was possible to divert attention away from the mainstream of society. The Myth of the “Unsoiled Badge” of the Wehrmacht In 1946, the Allied powers’ International Military Tribunal con- demned two dozen top Wehrmacht officers to death or long prison terms for war crimes. During the Subsequent Nuremberg Trials and in trials before the Allied powers’ national courts, hundreds of mem- bers of the military – among them many Austrians – were convicted of war crimes and crimes against humanity.4 During the beginning of the 1950s, the Federal Republic of Germany made granting am- nesty and releasing the German Wehrmacht soldiers to be the sine qua non for joining NATO. The ensuing wave of a amnesties contributed “significantly to the situation that the fundamentally illegal character of the National Socialist regime and its wars of aggression could be obscured. [. . .] At the price of altering historical reality, the former soldiers,” as the German Historian Norbert Frei has put it, “were to be given the opportunity to find some meaning in the sacrifices they had often made during their military service.”5 In the context of the integration of the Federal Republic of Germany into the West, “the legend of the ‘unsoiled badge’ of the Wehrmacht and the ‘normal 292 Justice and Memory.indb 292 02.11.2009 13:39:51 military operations’ they had waged was maintained to such an extent that it was almost impossible to be called into question by historians until well into the 1980s.”6 Strategies for the Integration of Former Members of the Wehrmacht into Austrian Society With the Federal Republic of Germany paving the way, Austria was able to create its own legend of the Wehrmacht. The reasons behind this had to do with the question of how it was going to be possible to reintegrate the more than one million former “Ostmark” Wehrmacht soldiers into Austrian society and to make their memories of the war serve the purposes of the construction of the Austrian nation. The integration of the Austrian Wehrmacht collective into political culture often took place by means of the cultic setting of the war memorial.7 A political-historical coalition was forged in this ritualised form of commemoration of the fallen soldiers between the Austrian collective of Wehrmacht soldiers and the social and political elite of the Second Austrian Republic. Heidemarie Uhl has accurately summed up the essence of this agreement: The formal apologies made by public representatives were not a one-sided under- standing and for this reason cannot solely be explained as election tactics. On this level it was much more a question of being one of the central plans of integration into the Second Republic: Party representatives, the authorities and the church honoured this fulfillment of duty for the fatherland as a timeless patriotic virtue, regardless of the political system they served, and with this they gave the soldiers the feeling of being entirely rehabilitated without having to completely distance themselves from their past. As a symbolic quid pro quo, representatives from veterans’ organisations now swore the very same allegiance to the Republic.8 There was no place in the Austrian cultural memory for former We- hrmacht soldiers to recall their own version of what had happened during the war if it in any way deviated from the official agenda, and thus there were no contradictory memories or representations of what happened present in public discourse. On an institutional level, the veterans’ organisations – especially the Österreichischer Kameradschaftsbund (ÖKB) [Austrian Veterans’ Organisation] with its 293 Justice and Memory.indb 293 02.11.2009 13:39:51 250,000 members – maintained a monopoly on the interpretation of what had happened during the war.9 The same was true with inter- views conducted with former soldiers. Their personal observations and traumatic experiences, their ideological and political positions during the war, which often contradicted the narrative of being in- nocent, apolitical victims, were for the most part ignored.10 The Wehrmacht and the War of Annihilation 50 years after the end of the war, on the threshold between com- municative and cultural memory, the “Wehrmachtsausstellung”, as it is commonly referred to, brought the institution of the Wehrmacht onto center stage showing its role in the perpetration of war crimes. The Wehrmacht was precisely the institution in which the mainstream of society, approximately 18 million Germans and Austrians, had been active during the war. And it was not a question of individual in- stances of criminal acts in war, as can be found in all wars, but rather of structural, National Socialist-motivated crimes against the Jewish population, civilians and prisoners of war. These were crimes in which the Wehrmacht was not merely incidentally involved but rather where soldiers acted both as accomplices and on their own accord. It was not a question of crimes committed by specific organizations or units, but rather of crimes committed by a large portion of the male population. And this by no means constituted the exception but rather was an inherent part of daily life during the war. The term “Vernichtungskrieg” [war of extermination or annihilation] which came to be used beginning in the mid-1990s best characterizes this war waged beyond any notion of international law or law in war: The entire Jewish population was to be murdered, the Slavic popula- tion was to be decimated and enslaved using hunger and terror, and millions of Soviet prisoners were to be starved to death and either deported to work as forced labour in the greater “pan-Germanic Reich” or interned in concentration camps. 294 Justice and Memory.indb 294 02.11.2009 13:39:51 The Wehrmacht during the War in Poland: Field of Experimentation for the War of Annihilation Commonly, the beginning of the “war of extermination” is associ- ated with the invasion of the Soviet Union in June, 1941. But this portrayal underestimates the extent to which the Wehrmacht employed elements of the war of extermination from the very beginning of the war. Jochen Böhler recently published a book with the telling title “Auftakt zum Vernichtungskrieg” [Prologue to the War of Extermina- tion] analysing for the first time in German, almost 70 years after the fact, the ravaging of the Wehrmacht in the Autumn of 1939 in Poland.11 “Freischärlerwahn” [paranoid fear of partisans] as Böhler called it, was one of the main driving forces for the ruthless actions taken towards Polish civilians at the beginning of the invasion. The inexperienced troops had naïve expectations of what the actual fighting would be like, expecting the enemy to stand up and fight in an open battle. But the Polish troops, who were in a state of constant retreat, began to fight from under cover. Villages and forests were put to use in order to at least delay the Germans’ advances, in the hopes that the western allies would intervene in time. The losses that were actually suffered by the Wehrmacht through these, according to the laws of war, legitimate tactics were in fact minimal, as their success was limited. However, the German troops projected their anger about the use of these tactics onto the Polish civilian population. The entire population came to be dealt with as partisans, even if they just happened to be caught between the fronts with no proof that they had been involved. Entire towns were systematically burned to the ground, inhabitants were executed on the streets, hand grenades were thrown into houses and cellars where families had tried to escape the fighting. Already in the first few weeks of the war, these acts of violence on the part of the German army cost the lives of thousands of Polish civilians.12 When Polish soldiers were captured during these conflicts, they were not treated as prisoners of war, but instead were immediately executed by the Wehrmacht soldiers. This was not a question of individual acts of excess but rather a mass phenomenon that occurred everywhere the Wehrmacht was active during the autumn of 1939. Hundreds of Polish towns were burned to the ground as thousands of civilians died in the fires, hand grenade explosions and machine gun barrages. 295 Justice and Memory.indb 295 02.11.2009 13:39:51 The manifest anti-Semitism of the campaign, documented in sol- diers’ diary entries and letters from the front, was also evident in acts of aggression perpetrated by Wehrmacht soldiers. Cutting and burning off beards along with making prisoners “run the gauntlet,” forced labour and fake executions became popular daily rituals. The number of Jewish victims who died due to Wehrmacht excesses in the autumn of 1939 is not possible to be accurately determined. But the numerous case examples suggest that by the end of the year, about 7.000 Jewish people were killed by the occupying forces,13 a large portion of these at the hands of Wehrmacht units.14 What is clearer is the Wehrmacht’s responsibility for the fate of about 50.000 Polish Jewish prisoners of war. Beginning in 1939, they were transported to work camps and ghettos run by the General Government or directly into concentration camps. Only a few hundred Polish Jewish soldiers survived the Second World War.15 Criminal Orders: The War against the Soviet Union As part of the planning for the invasion of the Soviet Union, work also began on devising orders relating to the conduct of the war and ensuing occupation in the East. In March 1941, Hitler had already informed 200 generals and staff officers of the units who were to be sent to the Eastern Front that this war would be “a struggle between two world ideologies”, to be conducted beyond the realms of estab- lished codes of martial or international law.16 The first results were the notorious “criminal orders” contained in the following directives. 1. Decree on Military Jurisdiction in the Area “Barbarossa”, issued 13 May 1941 (Barbarossa Decree).17 2. Guidelines for the Conduct of Troops in Russia, issued 19 May 1941.18 3. Guidelines for the Treatment of Political Commissars, issued 6 June 1941.19 4. Orders Concerning the Deployment of the Security Police and the Security Service within Military Formations, issued 28 April 1941.20 5. Various orders relating to the treatment of Soviet prisoners of war, issued from June to December 1941.21 296 Justice and Memory.indb 296 02.11.2009 13:39:51 As the issuing dates of these orders show, the scope of the violent measures proposed was not a consequence of escalation in the conflict, but was in fact laid down in the spring of 1941 – months before the planned invasion of the Soviet Union on 22 June – by the Chief of the Wehrmacht High Command (OKW), Wilhelm Keitel. This scope was systematically increased from the summer of 1941 onwards. The “Barbarossa Decree” In breach of all international conventions, the “Barbarossa Decree” removed the civilian population in the Soviet Union’s territory from the jurisdiction of the martial law courts. The troops themselves were now to act as judge, jury and executioner: they should “defend themselves mercilessly against any threat whatsoever from the enemy civilian population”. Irregular combatants were to be shot immediately, whether in combat or in flight. Irregulars were defined as including unarmed volunteers (“agitators”, “leafleteers” and “arsonists”) as well as civilians merely suspected of participating in such activities. There was no longer any necessity to prosecute members of the Wehrmacht for acts against enemy civilians – even if the act itself was a military crime. Court-martial proceedings were to be initiated only “when necessary for the maintenance of discipline or the safety of the troops”.22 This de facto declaration of war against the civilian population culminated in the command issued by the OKW on 16 December 1942: “Troops are therefore entitled and obliged to use any means whatsoever in this struggle – even against women and children – where this is the only way to ensure success. [. . .] No German engaged in counter-insurgency activity may be subject to disciplinary or court- martial proceedings on account of his conduct in the struggle against insurgent groups or their sympathizers.”23 The removal of the war, on the orders of the Wehrmacht leadership, from normal military legal constraints was reflected in correspond- ing casualty figures, a few of which are mentioned here by way of example: • In the rear military area of Belorussia, during the first nine months of the campaign – when the Partisan movement was still taking shape – 63.257 “Partisans” were killed. The low number of German 297 Justice and Memory.indb 297 02.11.2009 13:39:51 losses – 638 dead and 1.355 wounded – demonstrates that most of these “Partisans” were civilians, and did not die in combat. Things were no different in the part of Belorussia that was under civilian administration: by November 1941, out of 10.940 people captured, 10.431 had been shot dead.24 • In the Ukraine, the High Command of the Sixth Army distinguished between “actual Partisans” and “vagabond elements”. Their fate, however, was identical: “Along with the actual Partisans, [the Army] eliminated many elements prowling the countryside without identity papers, concealing their role as agents and intelligence operatives of the Partisans. In the course of this action, several thousands in the Army zone were publicly hanged or shot.”25 • Even in Serbia, where de jure the “Barbarossa Decree” was not in force, in practice it was applied there too: in the course of their campaign against Partisans in the autumn of 1941, Wehrmacht units shot dead between 20.000 and 30.000 civilians – their own losses amounted to 160 dead and 278 wounded.26 The death tolls alone, from three different theatres of war in the year 1941, make it clear that these were neither matters of military combat in any true sense against the Partisans, nor simply excesses committed by individual Wehrmacht units. Guidelines for the conduct of troops in Russia On the day of the invasion of the Soviet Union, the “Guidelines for the Conduct of Troops in Russia” had already revealed to soldiers of the Eastern Army the character of the civilian opposition groups: “Bolshevism is the deadly enemy of the National Socialist German people. This corrosive Weltanschauung – and those who support it – are what Germany’s struggle is against. This struggle demands a ruthless and strenuous crackdown on Bolshevik agitators, irregulars, saboteurs and Jews, and the complete elimination of both active and passive resistance. The Asiatic soldiers, in particular, are inscrutable, unpredictable, underhand and unfeeling.”27 These terms could be arbitrarily applied to the population as re- quired. For the 20th Infantry Division for example, men who did not 298 Justice and Memory.indb 298 02.11.2009 13:39:52 yield to the recruitment of forced labour were regarded as “saboteurs” and shot.28 It was in this vein that Wehrmacht chiefs and divisional com- manders formulated their guidelines for the “establishment of law and order”. The Wehrmacht commander in Ostland,29 Major General Walter Braeder, drew up the following list: “Law and order are en- dangered by: (a) Bolshevik soldiers and agents (Partisans), whether dispersed or strategically placed in woods and isolated locations; (b) Communist and other radical elements; (c) Jews and those friendly to Jews.”30 “The Jew is therefore to be viewed without exception as identical to the Partisan”, was a formula familiar to the troops. In September 1941, the High Command of the 17th Army provided an even more precise definition of groups to be regarded as suspected Partisans: “Jews of either sex and of any age.”31 The “Commissar Order” The “Commissar Order”, issued on 6 June 1941, envisaged the on-the- spot shooting by troops of any captured political commissars of the Red Army. Although the enforcement of this order was strenuously denied by the Wehrmacht after the war, it is now clear that “the Com- missar Order was car ried out within all armies and tank groups, by at least 80 per cent of the army corps and at least half the divisions.”32 Political commissars were presented to Wehrmacht troops as an image of the enemy into which anti-communist and anti-Semitic projections were seamlessly merged. The bulletin “Information for Troops”, June 1941, stated, for example: “What Bolsheviks are, is clear to anyone who has once taken a look into the face of one of these red commis- sars. [. . .] It would be an insult to animals to describe as animal-like the features of these people, a large, percentage of whom are Jew- ish. They are the embodiment of the infernal, people mutated into a crazed hatred of all that is noble in humanity. In the form of these commissars, we are witnessing the uprising of the subhuman against noble blood.”33 Surviving letters from soldiers at the front demonstrate that the “Commissar Order” was carried out right from the first days of the Russian campaign: on 24 June 1941, the junior officer Heinz H. of the 6th Infantry Division reported home: “Yesterday the first Russian 299 Justice and Memory.indb 299 02.11.2009 13:39:52 captives turned up with a captured commissar. The latter is sure to be shot. In that respect the laws are hard and just.” And the soldier Herman K. knew, too, at the time of the push to- wards Moscow in mid-July 1941, about the fate of captured political commissars: We get nearer and nearer to Moscow. Everywhere the same picture of destruction. [. . .] The people are living in abject misery, and nothing else that has been written about Russia is exaggerated: every commissar who is taken prisoner or who gets snatched is shot immediately.34 Orders concerning the Security Police (Sipo) and the Security Service (SD) The regulations governing the deployment of the Security Police and the Security Service within military formations, decreed by OKW Chief, Wilhelm Keitel, in March 1941, meant that the Einsatzgruppen and the stationary units of the Security Police and the Security Service were empowered to assume executive responsibility for measures af- fecting the civilian population. In black and white terms, this meant that the notorious organisations controlled by Heinrich Himmler were authorized to carry out their programme of murder of the Jewish population throughout the field of military operations. With this ac- commodation between the military and the Reichsführer-SS Heinrich Himmler, “the framework for a state-sponsored war of annihilation against ‘Jewish Bolshevism’ was already in place.”35 On the basis of this accommodation, the Einsatzgruppen were able to murder more than a million Jews with the acquiescence of the Wehrmacht. Orders relating to the treatment of Soviet prisoners of war Whereas captured political commissars of the Red Army were shot immediately, far in excess of half the total 5.5 million Soviet prisoners of war also died, as a result of malnourishment, disease and shooting. In total, 3.3 million died in German captivity – between the summer of 1941 and the spring of 1942 alone, the total was more than 2 mil- lion.36 Responsibility for transport, accommodation, provisions and the care of prisoners of war lay with the Wehrmacht. The OKW had 300 Justice and Memory.indb 300 02.11.2009 13:39:52 ruled that “the Bolshevik soldier has forfeited any entitlement to be treated as an honourable soldier, or in accordance with the Geneva Convention.”37 The Wehrmacht was thus applying a principle laid down by the Chief of Staff General Halder in March 1941: the Com- munist is “not a comrade to begin with, and is not a comrade at any time thereafter.”38 Prisoners’ food rations lay below minimum subsistence levels. Trans- ports to the camps were often survived by no more than 10 per cent of prisoners. The Quartermaster General of the Military, General Eduard Wagner, decreed: “Non-working prisoners of war . . . shall starve”, while the High Command of the Sixth Army issued orders “to shoot all work-shy prisoners of war.”39 The policy of population decimation encompassed not only Soviet prisoners, but also the civilian population. In order to guarantee supplies to the Wehrmacht in the Soviet Union, as well as to the Volks- gemeinschaft at home, the occupied areas were plundered extensively. Moreover, the policy of allowing people to starve and driving out the local population was intended to create space for the settlement policies being pursued. Responsibility for the implementation of these measures lay with the Wirtschaftsstab Ost. Here, the respective tasks of the Reich ministries and the economic departments of the Wehrmacht came under central coordination. The ramifications of the policy were summarized by Wirtschaftsstab Ost as follows: “Many tens of millions of people” would “become superfluous” and “either die or emigrate to Siberia.”40 Crimes of the Wehrmacht in Serbia After the western campaigns, Yugoslavia was invaded in the spring of 1941 and divided amongst the Axis Powers. Serbia came under German military occupation and after partisan forces led by Tito began their armed insurrection against the occupation, the Wehrma- cht began a racially motivated war of extermination. For every dead German soldier, 100 prisoners were shot, for every wounded soldier, 50 were shot. Beginning in the fall of 1941, the first groups to be liquidated by the execution commandos were the male Jews, Sinti and Roma – more than 6,000 victims. After this supply of hostages 301 Justice and Memory.indb 301 02.11.2009 13:39:52 had been used up, the Wehrmacht went over to randomly killing other Serbian civilians. During the two largest massacres on the Balkans in October 1941 alone, 2.056 people were killed in Kraljevo and 2.300 in Kragujevac, including numerous women, children and the elderly – all at the hands of Wehrmacht firing squads.41 None of the soldiers who participated in these killings were ever convicted after the war. All of the trials were dismissed. Bloody Tracks in Greece In summer 1943 the 1st Mountain Division was ordered to Greece to fight the partisans.42 During these actions, the Division categorically did not take any prisoners. Whoever was found with a weapon was shot on the spot. The surrounding villages were plundered and burned down. The remaining inhabitants – from babies to the elderly – were randomly massacred and listed in the troops records as “enemy dead.” During the months of July and August 1943 alone, the 1st Division destroyed 184 towns and killed 1,759 civilians – with their own losses at 22 casualties. The worst crime on innocent civilians was committed in the Epirian village of Kommeno where on August 12, 1943, about 120 members of the division entered the village and without meeting any resistance, began a massacre which would last three hours kill- ing 371 people, among them 172 women and 97 children and youths under 15 years of age. The company did not suffer any casualties or wounded. The case of Kommeno is also a good example of how the Wehrmacht systematically manipulated reports in order to cover up war crimes. While the regiment report (incorrectly) listed “150 civil- ian dead”, the division report mentions “150 enemy dead”, with the report sent to the General Staff referring to “150 dead bandits” and in the German General Staff’s official daily report with the Italian 11th Army, a certain First Lieutenant Kurt Waldheim would laconically note, “Concerning the 1st Mountain Division. The town of Komeno [. . .] was captured in spite of heavy resistance with enemy losses.” Here it becomes evident how by way of four war reports, a crime of war was transformed into a conventional act of defense. Along with the many civilians, Italian soldiers were also among the victims of the 1st Mountain Division. After Italy’s capitulation at the 302 Justice and Memory.indb 302 02.11.2009 13:39:52 beginning of September, 1943, the Italian division Acqui stationed on the Ionic islands Kefalonia and Corfu decided not to put down their weapons but rather to fight against the Wehrmacht. According to a “Führerbefehl” [under direct order of the Führer], the Italian officers were to be shot, and the petty officers and enlisted men were to be deported to the east to forced labour camps. From the over 10.000 Italian soldiers stationed on Kefalonia, 525 officers were killed. About 2.000 Italian soldiers were killed after being captured by members of the 1st Mountain Division. None of the members of the 1st Mountain Division were convicted by Austrian or German courts of any of these crimes of war. Only General Hubert Lanz, the commanding general of the army corps which included the 1st Mountain Division, was put on trial for among other things the murder of the Italian soldiers on Kefalonia during the so-called “Hostages Trial” in 1948 against the generals active in the southeastern theater. He was convicted and sentenced to 12 years in prison, but was soon released in 1951. The investigations and pre- liminary proceedings in Italy, Greece and the Federal Republic of Germany were put to a halt under the influence of the politics of the cold war, the rearmament of the Federal Republic and its integration into NATO. In 1956, the German Army [Bundeswehr] again established a 1st Mountain Division in which soon after its conception, officers from the former Wehrmacht division took on the highest ranking positions. Among them were those accused of being the worst war criminals active in the Balkan theatre. Reasons for the Many Years of Silence about the Crimes Committed by the Wehrmacht One of the arguments claims that it was first possible to have access to adequate information about these crimes after the opening of archives in the east. This argument is very simply not true. The information in these archives increased the number of details about the crimes committed by the Wehrmacht, but the most important material had already been accessible to researchers for decades. This poses the question of why research avoided this aspect. Some of the reasons have already been given: The Wehrmacht tried to sys- 303 Justice and Memory.indb 303 02.11.2009 13:39:52 tematically cover up their crimes. As I showed with the case of Kom- meno, the massacre of 371 innocent civilians was transformed into an indefinite number of “enemy casualties.” Deceptive notions such as “Bandenbekämpfung [fighting against bandits]”, “Sühnemaßnahmen [expiation or atonement measures]”, a neologism for reprisal measures, “Freischärlertum [illegal partisan snipers]” et cetera further complicate getting to the bottom of the reality of the crimes. Of much greater importance, however, was the vow of silence that determined the situation both on a national and international level. In the Federal Republic, it was part of the politics of the cold war, Germany’s integration into the West, and its membership in NATO, that made it possible to sweep these crimes under the carpet on an international scale. The release in the early 1950s of all of the mem- bers of the Wehrmacht who were convicted in the trials held by the Allied powers is without a doubt an example of this. Both the Federal Republic of Germany and Austria were confronted with the problem of how the National Socialist “Volksgemeinschaft” – and here especially the 18 million former Wehrmacht soldiers – could be integrated into a democratic system. The answer to the problem was simply to remain silent about the crimes committed by the Wehrmacht. And as a result, no more than a handful of former members of the Wehrmacht were ever convicted of war crimes. And finally, it was the very positions of power held by the Wehrmacht generation up into the mid-1990s that inhibited this debate. Only after they began to step down from their positions did it become possible, set in motion by the “Wehrmachtsausstellung”, for a broad public debate about the crimes committed by the mainstream of so- ciety. At last, the silence which had obscured the crimes committed by the Wehrmacht was finally broken. Again I would like to return to the final situation report made by the Commanding General of the Wehrmacht which I referred to at the beginning of my paper: “One day, the extraordinary achievements of the front and homeland will find their rightful appreciation in the judgment of history.” It took decades for this Janus-faced statement with all of its criminal impli- cations to be appreciated in its historical significance. 304 Justice and Memory.indb 304 02.11.2009 13:39:52 Notes 1 HEER, MANOSCHEK, POLLAK, WODAK 2008. 2 BARTOV 1991, p. 183. 3 REEMTSMA 2000, p. 276. 4 UEBERSCHÄR 1999. 5 FREI 1996, p. 22. 6 FREI 1996: p. 305. 7 GÄRTNER, ROSENBERGER 1991. 8 UHL 1994: p. 149. 9 EMBACHER 1999. 10 HORNUNG 1996. 11 BÖHLER 2006. 12 BÖHLER 2006: p. 76. 13 POHL 1998: p. 77. 14 POHL 1993: p. 24f. 15 BÖHLER 2006: p. 178. 16 Notes of General Franz Halder, quoted in: UEBERSCHÄR, WETTE 1999, p. 249. 17 Bundesarchiv Militärarchiv Freiburg (BA-MA), RW 4/v. 577: Erlaß über die Ausübung der Kriegsgerichtsbarkeit im Gebiet “Barbarossa” und über besondere Maßnahmen der Truppe (Decree on the exercising of military jurisdiction in the area “Barbarossa” and on special measures for the troops). OKW chief of staff, Wilhelm Keitel, 13 May 1941. 18 G. R. UEBERSCHÄR, Hitlers Entschluss zum “Lebensraum”-Krieg im Osten, in UEBERSCHÄR, WETTE 1999: 41. 19 Id. 20 MÜLLER 1980: p. 42f. 21 See STREIT 2001. 22 See endnote 16. 23 OKW Bandenbekämpfung, 16. 12. 1941, quoted in MÜLLER 1980: 139f. 24 HEER 1995, p. 109. 25 Kriegstagebuch AOK 6, Ic, 7. 12. 1941, quoted in BOLL, SAFRIAN 1996, p. 92. 26 MANOSCHEK 1995, p. 166. 27 Quoted in W. WETTE, Die propagandistische Begleitmusik zum deutschen Überfall auf die Sowjetunion am 22. Juni 1941, in UEBERSCHÄR, WETTE 1999, p. 50. 28 MÜLLER 1980: p. 93. 29 German occupation zone comprising the Soviet Baltic states and parts of Belorus- sia. 30 Quoted in H. HEER, Killing Fields. Die Wehrmacht und der Holocaust, in HEER, NAUMANN 1995: p. 66. 31 Quoted in R. HILBERG, Wehrmacht und Judenvernichtung, in MANOSCHEK 1996: p. 28. 32 J. FÖRSTER, Verbrecherische Befehle, in WETTE, UEBERSCHÄR 2001: p. 146. 33 Quoted in MESSERSCHMIDT 1969, p. 326f. 305 Justice and Memory.indb 305 02.11.2009 13:39:53 34 The two letters quoted are from the Library of Contemporary History (Bibliothek für Zeitgeschichte) in Stuttgart (“Sammlung Sterz”). 35 J. FÖRSTER, Verbrecherische Befehle, in WETTE, UEBERSCHÄR 2001: p. 140. 36 C. STREIT, Die Behandlung der sowjetischen Kriegsgefangenen und völkerrechtswid- rige Probleme des Krieges gegen die Sowjetunion, in UEBERSCHÄR, WETTE 1999: p. 160. 37 OKW, Anordnung für die Behandlung sowjetischer Kriegsgefangener, 8. 9. 1941, quoted in: HAMBURGER INSTITUT FÜR SOZIALFORSCHUNG 1996: p. 179. 38 Notes of General Halder, quoted in UEBERSCHÄR, WETTE 1999: p. 249. 39 See STREIT 2001: pp. 181ff. 40 HAMBURGER INSTITUT FÜR SOZIALFORSCHUNG 2002, p. 14. 41 MANOSCHEK 1995. 42 MEYER 2008. Bibliography O. BARTOV, Brutalität und Mentalität: Zum Verhalten deutscher Sol- daten an der „Ostfront“, in Erobern und Vernichten. Der Krieg gegen die Sowjetunion 1941–1945, in P. JAHN, R. RÜRUP (eds.), Essays, Berlin: Argon, 1991. B. BOLL, H. SAFRIAN, Die 6. Armee. Unterwegs nach Stalingrad, in HAMBURGER INSTITUT FÜR SOZIALFORSCHUNG 1996, p. 62–101. J. BÖHLER, Auftakt zum Vernichtungskrieg. Die Wehrmacht in Polen 1939, Frankfurt/Main: Fischer, 2006. H. EMBACHER, “. . .daß die Ehre der Kameraden unangetatstet bleiben müsse.” Die “Wehrmachtsausstellung” und das Ges- chichtsbild des Kameradschaftsbundes, in H. EMBACHER et al. (eds.), Umkämpfte Erinnerung. Die Wehrmachtsausstellung in Salzburg, Salzburg: Residenz 1999, p. 96–132. N. FREI, Vergangenheitspolitik. Die Anfänge der Bundesrepublik und die NS-Vergangenheit, München: Beck, 1996. R. GÄRTNER, S. ROSENBERGER, Kriegerdenkmäler. Vergangenheit in der Gegenwart, Innsbruck: Österr. Studienverlag, 1991. HAMBURGER INSTITUT FÜR SOZIALFORSCHUNG (ed.), Verbre- chen der Wehrmacht. Dimensionen des Vernichtungskrieges 1941–1944. Ausstellungskatalog, Hamburg: Hamburger Ed., 2002. HAMBURGER INSTITUT FÜR SOZIALFORSCHUNG (ed.), 306 Justice and Memory.indb 306 02.11.2009 13:39:53 Vernichtungskrieg. Verbrechen der Wehrmacht 1941 bis 1944. Ausstel- lungskatalog, Hamburg: Hamburger Ed., 1996. H. HEER, W. MANOSCHEK, A. POLLAK, R. WODAK, The Dis- cursive Construction of History. Remembering the Wehrmacht’s War of Annihilation, Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008. H. HEER, Die Logik des Vernichtungskrieges. Wehrmacht und Parti- sanenkampf, in H. HEER, K. NAUMANN (eds.), Vernichtungskrieg. Verbrechen der Wehrmacht, Hamburg: Hamburger Ed., 1995. E. HORNUNG, Das Schweigen zum Sprechen bringen. Erzählfor- men österreichischer Soldaten in der Wehrmacht, in W. MANO- SCHEK (ed.), Die Wehrmacht im Rassenkrieg. Der Vernichtungskrieg hinter der Front, Wien: Picus, 1996, p. 182–205. W. MANOSCHEK, “Serbien ist judenfrei.” Militärische Besatzungspolitik und Judenvernichtung 1941/42, München: Oldenbourg, 1995. M. MESSERSCHMIDT, Die Wehrmacht im NS-Staat, Hamburg: v. Decker, 1969. H. F. MEYER, Blutiges Edelweiß. Die 1. Gebirgs-Division im Zweiten Weltkrieg, Berlin: Links, 2008. N. MÜLLER, Deutsche Besatzungspolitik in der UdSSR, Köln: Pahl- Rugenstein, 1980. D. POHL, Die Ermordung der Juden im Generalgouvernement, in U. HERBERT (ed.), Nationalsozialistische Vernichtungspolitik 1939–1945. Neue Forschungen und Kontroversen, Frankfurt/Main: Fischer, 1998. D. POHL, Von der „Judenpolitik“ zum Judenmord. Der Distrikt Lublin des Generalgouvernements 1939–1944, Frankfurt/Main: Lang, 1993. J. P. REEMTSMA, Was man plant, und was daraus wird. Gedanken über ein prognostisches Versagen, in M. Th. GREVEN, O. VON WROCHEM (eds.), Der Krieg in der Nachkriegszeit. Der Zweite Weltkrieg in Politik und Gesellschaft der Bundesrepublik, Opladen: Leske + Budrich, 2000, pp. 273–290. C . STREIT, Deutsche und sowjetische Kriegsgefangene, in WETTE, UEBERSCHÄR 2001: pp. 178–192. G. R. UEBERSCHÄR, W. WETTE (eds.), Der deutsche Überfall auf die Sowjetunion, Frankfurt/Main: Fischer, 1999. G. R. UEBERSCHÄR (ed.), Der Nationalsozialismus vor Gericht. Die alliierten Prozesse gegen Kriegsverbrecher und Soldaten 1943–1952, Frankfurt/Main: Fischer, 1999. 307 Justice and Memory.indb 307 02.11.2009 13:39:53 H. UHL, Erinnern und Vergessen. Denkmäler zur Erinnerung an die Opfer der nationalsozialistischen Gewaltherrschaft und an die Gefallenen des Zweiten Weltkriegs in Graz und in der Steiermark, in: S. RIESENFELLNER, H. UHL, Zeitgeschichtliche Denkmalkultur in Graz und in der Steiermark vom Ende des 19. Jahrhunderts bis zur Gegenwart, Wien–Köln–Weimar: Böhlau, 1994, p. 111–197. W. WETTE, G. R. UEBERSCHÄR, Kriegsverbrechen im 20. Jahrhun- dert, Darmstadt: Primus, 2001. 308 Justice and Memory.indb 308 02.11.2009 13:39:53 Israel’s Prenatal Memory: Born 1948 – Traumatised 1938 Moshe Zimmermann The one remarkable thing about collective memory is that it has very little to do with memory’s original meaning, for the individual. The concept of collective memory is used in a metaphorical way, which ignores the real biological and mnemotechnical mechanisms that characterise the process of registering facts and impressions on the individual brain. The memory of an individual person is the recol- lection of an event that happened to him, whereas so-called collec- tive memory is usually a reference to events that either happened before the individual was even born or, if they occurred during the lifetime of the individual, did actually happen – but to other people. The registration of events on an aggregate of individual brains is the outcome of an endeavor of societal agencies, agencies of memory, which are agencies of education and collective orientation that aim to create a collective identity. This is why so many elements of what we usually call collective memory do not belong to the experience of the individuals who compose the community of memory. Within Jewish tradition, collective memory – the imposition of past experiences on the Jewish collective with the help of agencies of socialisation – plays a central role. The Book of Deuteronomy recom- mends that the Jewish people “remember the days of old, consider the years of many generations” (32:7) as a general rule, and specifically that they “remember what the Amalekites did to you when you came out of Egypt” (25:17). Occurrences of the past began to find their way into Jewish collective memory as they were read about in the bible, the Jews’ sacred and most popular text. Thus, past occurrences, whether real or invented, became and continue to become a component of collective memory. This process has a clear aim: Preservation of these memories molds collective identity, which guides the collective in its future actions. 309 Justice and Memory.indb 309 02.11.2009 13:39:53 The State of Israel was born on the 5th day of the Hebrew month of Iyyar 5708 (15.5.1948), yet the State’s memory, the memory of its citizens, extends back to a time much before this birthday, not only because the individual adult citizens of 1948 had memories of the time before, but also because the socialisation of these citizens had focused intensely on the creation or invention of old, even ancient memories. No wonder, then, that the memory of 1938 also became a component of the collective memory of the citizens of the State born ten years later. This quasi-prenatal collective “memory” fulfilled the function of conditioning behaviour compatible with the Zionist ideology as propagated by the State. Of course, 1938 was only one of the fateful historical junctions to be memorised, but it was a central one. At least four major European events of 1938 are not only relevant to collective Jewish memory, but actually entered collective Israeli memo- ry: The “Anschluss” (March); the Evian Conference (July); the Munich Agreement (September); and the “Reichskristallnacht” (November). Of course, events that happened in Palestine in 1938 left a more decisive and direct imprint on later Israeli collective memory: These were, first and foremost, the Arab mutiny (in Hebrew, “unrest”), and the planned partition of Palestine into two states. Yet because the origins of Jewish Palestinian society were European, and because Zionism and anti-Semitism were European phenomena, European memories also became a prominent part of the collective Jewish memory in Palestine, and later of Israeli collective memory. Of the four above-mentioned events in Europe, three directly af- fected the fate of the Jews: The Anschluss, which introduced the Third Reich’s anti-Semitic policy into Austria (now the Ostmark), made its way to Palestine in the form of photos of non-Jewish Austrians jeer- ing at Austrian Jews as they scraped the pavement with toothbrushes – photos that became iconic everywhere, as well as in Palestine. Eich- mann’s Zentralstelle for Jewish emigration from Austria also became an element of collective memory, as a great number of Austrian Jews immigrated to Palestine within one year. The Evian Conference dealt not only with the forced migration of Jews from Central Europe and the need to rescue persecuted Central European Jews, but also touched upon the very relevant problem of Jewish aliyah, Jewish migration to Palestine, where the British Mandate imposed restrictions on the 310 Justice and Memory.indb 310 02.11.2009 13:39:53 number of Jewish immigrants. The Zionist movement in general, and the Zionist leadership in Palestine, in particular, was interested in transforming the Evian initiative into an instrument of mass emi- gration to Palestine. That so little was achieved during and after the conference initially seemed to have become an important component of Zionist memory, with the aim of stressing not only the inevitabil- ity and exclusivity of the Zionist solution to the Jewish problem, in general, but also the need for no less than a Jewish state. The Reichskristallnacht immediately became, from the day it hap- pened, an event to be remembered – in Palestine as everywhere in the Jewish world. In Palestine as elsewhere, this pogrom was seen as an inexplicable but extremely significant event, particularly because it happened in a State that was considered highly civilised, a State that had officially, openly become anti-Semitic. This kind of behaviour – as exemplified by the pogrom – was in itself, of course, not un- precedented: Eastern European Jews had experienced it many times before. But a German pogrom dealt a harsher psychological blow than had the Russian ones – to all Jews. It led to the conclusion that times had changed, and progress had stopped. No wonder that this event, too, left its mark not only on the Jews who were living in Palestine before or during World War II, but also on collective Jewish-Israeli memory after 1948. Since Israeli education and Israeli political dis- course have always underlined allegedly eternal anti-Semitism, and sought the most conspicuous historical examples of Jew-baiting as a justification for Zionism, the Reichskristallnacht of 1938 has since its occurrence been a hallmark of collective memory. Interestingly, in 2008, 70 years after Kristallnacht, this memory was activated not only as a typical example of the fate of Jews in times of anti-Semitism, but also as a warning against the violent tactics used by settlers in the occupied West Bank against Palestinian Arabs. When the Israeli prime minister condemned the attack against Arabs by Jews in the city of Hebron in December 2008, calling it a pogrom, he had the Reichskristallnacht in mind. Also interestingly, the double-edged use of this memory may explain why this element of collective memory has lost its prominence in Israeli collective memory over time. One might have expected this event, which was extremely and ex- clusively anti-Jewish, to become the most prominent one for Israelis reflecting back on 1938. But it did not. The one event that took place 311 Justice and Memory.indb 311 02.11.2009 13:39:53 in 1938, and that looms over the collective memory of Israelis, is no other than the Munich Agreement. This agreement shocked the Yishuv (Jewish settlement in Palestine) in real time, and has remained a most important component of Israeli collective memory ever since. In October 1938, the Yishuv was alarmed by news of the Munich Agreement, which began the process of dismembering Czechoslova- kia. If England was ready to give up its European ally Czechoslovakia, why wouldn’t it be ready to betray the Zionist enterprise in Palestine, and go back on its promise to recognize a Jewish national home in the faraway Middle East? Even the pogrom of November 9th, Kristallnacht, was interpreted in light of the Munich Agreement accordingly – that is as an outcome of the policy of appeasement, and of England’s lack of will to use its power in its own interest. Given the growing Arab pressure on England in the Middle East in the 1930s, and given the threat that Fascist Italy and Nazi Germany posed in this context, the Zionist leadership, as well as the Yishuv in general, could not help but become most pessimistic about the future of the Jewish national home. Indeed, England relinquished the plan it had proposed in 1937 of creating two states in Palestine, one of them a Jewish state. Moreover, in May 1939, a short time after Hitler had turned Bohemia into a German protectorate, England went so far as to practically pro- hibit Jewish immigration to Palestine. Thus the Munich Agreement – this traumatic event – left a deep impression on the Yishuv, and ever since has been a pivotal component of the collective memory of Israeli society. In Israeli schoolbooks, the Munich Agreement is not merely mentioned, but rather is explicitly used as a lesson, even as a warning for Israelis: A small state, even if it is a democracy, may be sacrificed by its stronger democratic allies if they are confronted by a seemingly overwhelming threat. The combination of the memory of the Munich Agreement with the widespread tendency to compare Arab states or the Arab world to Nazi Germany has rendered this warning most effective. When Israelis are reminded of 1938, they are first and foremost reminded of the Munich Agreement and its consequences for Czechoslovakia. It was the partition of Palestine into two states following the UN decision of November 1947, and the existence of an Arab minority in the newly created State of Israel, whose neighbours were Arab states, which almost automatically called to mind a comparison with 312 Justice and Memory.indb 312 02.11.2009 13:39:53 the situation of Czechoslovakia in 1938. The expulsion of Palestinian Arabs during the war of 1948 could thus retroactively be justified by the historic experience of Czechoslovakia following the Munich Agreement. In fact, prior to 1977, it was the right-wing opposition to Israel’s then social-democrat government that most frequently used this comparison to justify its criticism against that government’s policy. Moreover, when right-wing politicians came to power in 1977, they instrumentalised the memory of the Munich Agreement in order to justify their policy toward the Arab world, while the more radical right-wing fringes used the same memory in opposition to the government, which they considered not sufficiently right-wing for their radical purposes. The Munich Agreement thus became iconic, and one of the most convincing arguments in favour of hard-line politics. The following provide some concrete examples: In 1985, when Mikhail Gorbachev became the leader of the Soviet Union and instituted the process of Glasnost, the situation in the Middle East began to change, too. On July 24, 1985, a short time after the change in Soviet leadership, the Knesset, Israel’s parliament, discussed the changing background of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. A typical reaction, from staunch right-wing MP Uzi Landau, was a comparison to the 1930s: Hitler had also talked about peace, and Chamberlain was duped by Hitler’s false pretences. Therefore one should not be- lieve in the authenticity of change, neither in the Soviet Union nor in the Arab world.1 Geula Cohen, who had been Menachem Begin’s partner in terrorist activities prior to the founding of the State and who in 1985 was a member of Knesset representing a party on the far right, brought another effective icon into the debate: Chamberlain’s umbrella. One need not mention the word “Munich” in Israel, but merely to say the word “umbrella” – which is associated with Cham- berlain and his policy – to raise the specter of the Munich Agreement and persuade listeners that any policy of concession on the part of Israel will signal collective feebleness and cowardice, and therefore is a mistake, even a crime. Two years later, when Glasnost was no longer a secret by any means, another MP from the right-wing Likud party (then as in 1985 a part- ner to the coalition) typically remained suspicious, and attacked the plea of then Foreign Minister Shimon Peres (the Israeli Labor Party 313 Justice and Memory.indb 313 02.11.2009 13:39:54 was the other partner in the tandem coalition) for a change in Israeli policy toward the Palestinians with the words: “God forbid we imitate the Munich Agreement”. He was seconded by Rabbi Meir Kahhane (a member of Knesset with a clear nazistic program), who went so far as to identify the already-ratified 1979 Camp David Agreement with Egypt as “Munich”. By this time, Menachem Begin, the right-wing Israeli prime minister who had signed the Camp David Agreement, was a retired politician. However, in June 1982, when the war he had waged against Lebanon was criticised by the London “Times”, he had used the same tactic: He brushed aside the criticism with the argument that a newspaper that supported the Munich Agreement in 1938 did not have the moral authority to criticise Israel or him personally. The Oslo Accord between Israel and the PLO signed in September 1993, which was an unprecedented breakthrough in Israeli-Palestinian relations, again activated the historic memory of Munich. Especially outspoken in this respect was then-MP Rehavam Ze’evi (nicknamed “Gandhi”), leader of the Moledet (Homeland) Party, which propagated the “transfer” (the euphemism used for expulsion) of Arabs out of the Land of Israel. For him, the Oslo Accord was a red flag; again and again, he called it “the Oslo-Munich-Agreement”, and “pure madness that must be stopped” (29.11.1994). For him, the lesson of Munich 1938 was not only that no similar agreement should be signed by Israel, but also that the “transfer” of Arabs was the only effective precaution against repetition of the Munich error by Israeli foreign policy. After all, Germans living in the Sudentenland had indeed been expelled by the end of World War II with the consent of the Allies; Ze’evi wanted to implement the same solution in a prophylactic way in the Middle East. Ze’evi was not alone. In December of 1994, after Arafat, Rabin and Peres had won the Nobel Peace Prize, then Member of Knesset Landau commented: “It is like giving the Nobel Prize to Hitler, Daladier and Chamberlain”. This comparison proved decisive in the process of de-legitimization of the Oslo Accord, and served as an important excuse for the assassination of then Prime Minister Rabin in 1995. These automatic references to Munich would not have been as effec- tive as they were without the help of both the media and the educa- tion system. Both preserve the memory of Munich in such a way that 314 Justice and Memory.indb 314 02.11.2009 13:39:54 three key words – Munich, Chamberlain and umbrella – condition Israelis to an attitude of intolerance and defiance toward the world, especially the Palestinians. School history books never fail to mention Munich, using it as a most acute warning and as proof that history lessons are practical (and dangerous), after all: They nip in the bud any attempt to end the conflict between Israelis and Palestinians. Thus, the appropriation of this specific memory of 1938 by Israeli right-wing politicians has helped create a general shift toward right- wing ideology and politics in general. The tripartite memory of Munich-Chamberlain-umbrella has proved to be such an effective tool in the service of the political right wing, that its use (or misuse) has become more widespread with time. The Iraq War of 2003, and the alleged Iranian nuclear threat to Israel, have served as direct catalysts for a “Munich reaction”. One need not read only reports of the Knesset and follow parliamentary debate. Much relevant material is to be found in the commentaries of the press, and in the relevant talk-backs of online media portals. Criticism of US and Israeli Iraq policy is reflected by remarks such as, “Today’s Chamberlain with the umbrella is Mitzna [then the leader of the Israeli Labor Party]”2; or “Peres refuses to learn from history – he ignores the lesson of Munich”.3 This retrospective interpretation of the Munich Agreement goes beyond criticising appeasement as such; in fact, it lays blame on the political left of 1938, so as to present a clear-cut symmetry between 1938 and the present, and so as to draw a parallel between the European lesson and the Israeli conclusion. The Israeli left of today, which does not favour a pre-emptive strike against Iran, is described as being hesitant and perfidious, as stalling, like its predecessors in 1938. Thus, paradoxically enough, in Israeli collective memory the events recalled by “Munich”, “Chamberlain” and “umbrella” overshadow other, seemingly more relevant events of 1938. “The Anschluss” or “Evian” do not ring a bell, and the Hebrew translation of “Kristall- nacht”, though better known to the general public, does not play the role it should play among the heirs of the victims of discrimination and persecution, or the role it could play against the background of the reversal of roles between Jews and non-Jews as victims and per- petrators in the Jewish State created in 1948. 315 Justice and Memory.indb 315 02.11.2009 13:39:54 Notes 1 The quotes here and below are from the official Proceedings of the Knesset (Divrei ha’Knsset). 2 YNET, 8.12.03 3 Makor Rishon, a radical right-wing daily, 9.3.08 316 Justice and Memory.indb 316 02.11.2009 13:39:54 Contributors Christine Anthonissen Associate Professor and Chair of the Department of General Linguis- tics, Stellenbosch University since 2004. Her research focuses mainly on Discourse Studies, Critical Discourse Analysis and social aspects of Bilingualism and Multilingualism. She has done an analysis of media discourses of the late 1980s considering how the South African news media managed stringent censorship regulations. More recent work relates to discourses in coming to terms with a traumatic past, related to the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission, and dis- courses between health workers and patients in an HIV/AIDS clinic. Recent publications refer to censorship and self-censorship in the media (in Wodak, R and Koller, V. (eds.) 2008. Handbook of Applied Linguistics vol.3), to experiences of interpreters at the TRC hearings (in Journal of Multicultural Discourses 3:3, 2008), and to intercultural com- munication in an HIV/AIDS clinic where patients are supported in the introduction to and use of anti-retrovirals (with B.Meyer in Stellenbosch Papers in Linguistics PLUS, Vol. 36, 2008). http://www.academic.sun.ac.za/linguist/personeel/ca_eng.htm Mitchell G. Ash Professor of Modern History, head of the Working Group in History of Science and Speaker of the Ph.D. program, “The Sciences in His- torical Context” at the University of Vienna, and a Full Member of the Berlin-Brandenburg Academy of Sciences. Ash is author or editor of eleven books and numerous articles and chapters concentrated in the following research fields: the relations of science, politics, society and culture in German-speaking Europe since 1850; forced migration and scientific change during and after the Nazi era; and the history of modern psychology and psychoanalysis. 317 Justice and Memory.indb 317 02.11.2009 13:39:54 Recent publications include American and German Perspectives on the Goldhagen Debate: History, Identity and the Media. Holocaust and Genocide Studies, 11 (1997), 396–412; Forced Migration and Scientific Change: Steps Towards a New Approach, in: R. Scazzieri & R. Simili (eds.), The Migration of Ideas. Sagamore Beach, MA: Science History Publications, 2008, pp. 161–178. http://www.univie.ac.at/Geschichte/htdocs/site/arti.php/90051 Aleida Assmann English Literature and Egyptology studies at the universities of Hei- delberg and Tübingen. Since 1993 she holds the chair of English Literature and Theory at the University of Konstanz. She was a fel- low of the Wissenschaftskolleg at Berlin in 1998/1999 and lectured at various universities such as Princeton, Yale, Vienna and Chicago. Her publications deal with theories of fiction between the 16th and the 18th century, the history of writing and of print media, and the forms and media of cultural memory and the development of col- lective memory in post-war Germany. Recent Publications: Erinnerungsräume. Formen und Wandlungen des kulturellen Gedächtnisses (Spaces of Memory: Forms and Development of Cultural Memory), München 1999; Der lange Schatten der Vergangen- heit. Erinnerungskultur und Geschichtspolitik (The Long Shadow of the Past: Cultures of Remembrance and Commemoration, München 2006: Geschichte im Gedächtnis. Von der individuellen Erfahrung zur öffentlichen Inszenierung, München 2007. She has also edited volumes on literary analysis and cultural studies, including Weisheit (1990) (Wisdom), Texte und Lektüren (1996) (Texts and Readings) and Verwandlungen (2005) (Transformations). http://www.uni-konstanz.de/ang-ame/index.php?page=704 Walther L. Bernecker Professor, born in 1947, majored in History, German and Hispanic studies at the Friedrich-Alexander-University Erlangen-Nürnberg, 1973-1977 and 1979-1984 Assistant Professor at the Chair of Modern and Contemporary History at the University of Augsburg, 1984/85 „Visiting Fellow“ at the „Center of Latin American Studies“ at the University of Chicago, 1986 post doctoral degree (Habilitation), 1988-1992 Chair of Contemporary History at the University of Bern, 318 Justice and Memory.indb 318 02.11.2009 13:39:54 since 1992 Chair of Culture and Civilizations of Countries of Roman Languages at the University of Erlangen-Nürnberg. Recent publications: (together with Sören Brinkman) Kampf der Erin- nerungen. Der Spanische Bürgerkrieg in Politik und Gesellschaft 1936–2006. Nettersheim 2006, 22006, 32007, 42008 [erweitert und überarbeitet]; Spanien-Handbuch. Geschichte und Gegenwart. Tübingen 2006; (ed. together with Günther Maihold) España: del concenso a la polarización. Cambios en la democracia española. Madrid–Franfurt/Main 2007; Span- ien heute. Politik, Wirtschaft, Kultur. Frankfurt/Main 2008. http://www.awro.wiso.uni-erlangen.de/bernNEU.html Rudolf de Cillia Associate Professor of Applied Linguistics and Second Language Acquisition Research (Sprachlehrforschung) at the Department of Linguistics, University of Vienna. He has studied German and Roman languages and literature and general as well as applied linguistics at the University of Vienna and worked as a High School teacher be- fore his Habilitation (Postdoctoral Dissertation) in 1995. His focus of research is Language Policies/ Politics (European and Austrian lan- guage policy, foreign language policy, linguistic minorities, language and migration), Critical Discourse Analysis (language and politics, the discursive construction of identity, language and identity, language and prejudice) and Language Teaching Research and Foreign Lan- guage Didactics, and he has widely published in these areas. Recent publications: Smeds, John/Sarmavuori, Katri/Laakonen, Eero/de Cilia, Rudolf (eds.): Multicultural Communities, Multilingual Practice. Monikulttuuriset yhteisöt, monikielinen käytäntö. Festschrift für Annikki Koskensalo zum 60. Geburtstag. Turku: Turun Yliopisto. 2005; Rudolf de Cillia and Ruth Wodak: Ist Österreich ein „deutsches“ Land? Sprachenpolitik und Identität in der Zweiten Republik. Innsbruck u.a.: Studien Verlag. 2006; Ruth Wodak, Rudolf de Cillia, Martin Reisigl, Karin Liebhart (2009): The discursive construction of national identities. Second and extended edition. Edinburgh University Press; de Cillia, Rudolf/Wodak, Ruth (2009): Gedenken im „Gedankenjahr“. Zur diskursiven Konstruktion österreichischer Identitäten im Jubiläumsjahr 2005. Wien/Innsbruck: Studien Verlag. http://www.homepage.univie.ac.at/rudolf.de-cillia/php/ 319 Justice and Memory.indb 319 02.11.2009 13:39:54 Marek Czyzewski Professor at the Institute of Sociology and Head of the Department of Research on Social Communication, University of Lodz, Poland. Main interests include: public and mass communication, public opinion and democracy, violence, war and collective memory, “discourse of hostility” and hate speech, knowledge-based society and “governmen- tality”, intercultural and international communication, qualitative social research (predominantly discourse analysis and sociology of interaction), social theory (especially interpretive-constructivist ap- proaches, sociology of knowledge and Foucault). Recent publications include: Öffentliche Kommunikation und Rechtsex- tremismus, Lodz 2005; six articles in the Polish Encyclopedia of Sociology: “Discourse”, “Ethnomethodology”, “Goffman”, “Intersubjectivity”, “Prejudice”, “Qualitative Analysis” (1998–2005); Rhetoric and Poli- tics: Twenty Years of Polish Transformation (co-editor; forthcoming in Polish); Discourse of Hostility (editor and co-author; in preparation, in Polish). Co-editor of Sociological Review [Przeglad Socjologiczny, a Polish sociological journal] (1998–), editor of the Polish edition of Strukturwandel der Öffentlichkeit by Jürgen Habermas (2007), and co- editor of the Library of Public Discourse. Culture, Rhetoric and Democracy (in Polish 2009–). http://www.eksoc.uni.lodz.pl/is/czyzewski.html Titus Ensink General linguistics studies at Nijmegen University, and as a visiting fellow sociolinguistics and ethnomethodology at the University of California, San Diego. He is Senior Lecturer in Discourse Studies at the University of Groningen (The Netherlands). His research inter- ests are: Political rhetoric in relation to commemorations, and frame analysis of text and of media messages. Recent publications: Framing and perspectivising in discourse (co-ed.), Amsterdam & Philadelphia 2003; The Art of Commemoration. Fifty Years after the Warsaw Uprising (co-ed.), Amsterdam & Philadelphia 2003. http://www.rug.nl/staff/e.f.a.j.ensink/index András Kovács Professor at Central European University, Budapest, Nationalism Studies Program / Jewish Studies Program, Academic Director, senior 320 Justice and Memory.indb 320 02.11.2009 13:39:55 researcher in the Institute for Ethnic and Minority Research at the Hungarian Academy of Sciences. Research subjects: Jewish identity and antisemitism in post-war Hun- gary; memory and identity; socio-economic attitudes and political choice. Recent publications: Un débat entre historiens dans les années 80: la tragédie des Juifs hongrois. In: D. Bechtel–É. Patlagean–J.CH. Szurek- P. Zawadzki (eds.): Écriture de l’Histoire et Identité Juive. L’Europe ashkénaze XIXe-XXe siécle. Les Belles Lettres, Paris 2003; New Jewish Identities. (Ed. with Zvi Gitelman, Barry Kosmin), Central European University Press, Budapest, New York, 2003; Jewish Groups and Identity Strategies in Post-Communist Hungary. In: Zvi Gitelman, Barry Kosmin , András Kovács (eds).:New Jewish Identities. Central European Uni- versity Press, Budapest, New York, 2003; Jews and Jewry in contemporary Hungary: results of a sociological survey (Ed.), Institute for Jewish Policy Research, London 2004; Hungarian Jewish Politics from the End of the Second World War until the Collapse of Communism. In: Ezra Mendel- sohn (ed.): Jews and the State. Dangerous Alliances and the Perils of Privilege. Studies in Contemporary Jewry, XIX. Oxford University Press, Oxford, 2004. http://web.ceu.hu/jewishstudies/faculty.htm#akovacs Walter Manoschek Professor for Political Science at the Department of Government at the University of Vienna. He was affiliated to the Hamburg Institute for Social Research for the exhibition “Vernichtungskrieg. Verbrechen der Wehrmacht 1941–1944”. The current focus of his research includes politics of the past as well as National Socialism and Holocaust research. His latest works have comprised extensive research projects on the victims of National So- cialist military courts, and research on the process of denazification at the University of Vienna after 1945. Besides he is working on a movie about a massacre on Hungarian Jews at the end of the Second World War in Burgenland. Recent publications: The Discursive Construction of History. Remembering the Wehrmacht’s War of Annihilation (editor together with Hannes Heer, Alexander Pollak and Ruth Wodak), Palgrave Macmillan, Basingstoke – New York 2008. Austrian victims of National Socialist military justice, 321 Justice and Memory.indb 321 02.11.2009 13:39:55 in: Bernard Mees/Samuel P. Koehne (Eds.), Terror, War, Tradi- tion. Studies in European History. Proceedings of the XVth Biennal Conference of the Australasian Association for European History, Melbourne, July 2005, Unley 2007 http://staatswissenschaft.univie.ac.at/index.php?id=11290 Anton Pelinka Professor of Nationalism Studies and Political Science, Central Euro- pean University, Budapest, Director, Institute for Conflict Research, Vienna. Research Interests: Comparative Politics, Democratic Theory, Aus- trian Politics, European Integration. Recent publications: Democracy Indian Style. Subhas Chandra Bose and the Creation of India’s political Culture, Transaction Press, 2003; Demokratie in Indien. Subhas Chandra Bose und die Entstehung der Politischen Kultur, StudienVerlag 2005; Vom Glanz und Elend der Parteien. Struktur- und Funktionswandel des oesterreichsichen Parteiensystems, StudienVerlag 2005; Vergleich politischer Systeme, Boehlau, 2005; Kreisky – Haider. Bruch- linien österreichischer Identitäten (with H.Sickinger, Karin Stoegner), Braumueller, 2008. http://web.ceu.hu/polsci/faculty/personal/pelinka.htm Martin Reisigl Lecturer for Applied Linguistics at the University of Vienna, work- ing on a habilitation project supported by research fellowships of the German Alexander von Humboldt Foundation and the Austrian Academy of Sciences (APART). From April 2006 until February 2007, he was a visiting professor at the university “La Sapienza” in Rome, Italy. From February until June 2007, he was a visting fellow at the Institute for Human Sciences (IWM) in Vienna. His research interests include (critical) discourse analysis and discourse theory, text linguistics, academic writing, sociolinguistics, (political) rhetoric (language and discrimination, nationalism, racism, populism), language and history, linguistics and literature, argumentation analysis and semiotics. Recent publications: Nationale Rhetorik in Fest- und Gedenkreden. Eine diskursanalytische Studie zum „österreichischen Millennium“ in den Jahren 1946 und 1996 (Tübingen: Stauffenburg, 2007); The Discursive Con- struction of National Identity (together with R. Wodak, R. De Cillia and 322 Justice and Memory.indb 322 02.11.2009 13:39:55 K. Liebhart, Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 22009); Rhetoric of political speeches, in: R. Wodak, V. Koller, (eds.) (2008): Handbook of Communication in the Public Sphere. Berlin, New York: Mouton de Gruyter. pp. 243–269; Analyzing political rhetoric, in: R. Wodak, M. Krzyzanowski, (eds.) (2008): Qualitative Discourse Analysis in the Social Sciences. London et al.: Palgrave. pp. 96–120. http://www.univie.ac.at/linguistics/personal/florian/Schmerzpro- jekt/de/reisigl.htm Dirk Rupnow Professor at the Institute for Contemporary History, University of Innsbruck; studied History, German literature, Art history and Phi- losophy in Berlin and Vienna; 1999/2000 Project researcher with the Historical Commission of the Republic of Austria; Fellowships at the International Research Center for Cultural Studies (Vienna), the Institute for Human Sciences (Vienna), the Simon Dubnow Institute for Jewish History and Culture (Leipzig), the History Department of Duke University, and the Center for Advanced Holocaust Studies at the US Holocaust Memorial Museum; 2007 Visiting Assistant Profes- sor at Dartmouth College; Lecturer at the Institute for Contemporary History at the University of Vienna. Recent publications: Aporien des Gedenkens. Reflexionen über ‚Holocaust’ und Erinnerung, Freiburg/Br. – Berlin 2006; Vernichten und Erinnern. Spuren nationalsozialistischer Gedächtnispolitik, Göttingen 2005; (together with Gabriele Anderl) Die „Zentralstelle für jüdische Auswanderung“ als Beraubungsinstitution, Munich 2004; Täter – Gedächtnis – Opfer. Das „Jüdische Zentralmuseum“ in Prag 1942–1945, Vienna 2000 http://www.uibk.ac.at/zeitgeschichte/mitarbeiterinnen.html.de Gitta Sereny Born in Vienna, 13 March 1921, and witnessed Hitler’s entry into Vi- enna in 1938 – on her birthday. She was attending the Sorbonne when the Nazis invaded, and volunteered to help with refugee children, taking a group to a castle in the Loire. Escaping to the United States in late 1941, wrote and lectured on children in Europe, and later joined UNRTA as a children’s officer, in DP camps in Germany. Her books and articles have often dealt with two themes: children in trouble – The Case of Mary Bell (1972) and Cries Unheard (1998) – and 323 Justice and Memory.indb 323 02.11.2009 13:39:55 the Third Reich – Into That Darkness (1974), Albert Speer, His Battle with Truth (1995), and The German Trauma (2002). For her contribution to British-German understanding, she was awarded the CBE (Com- mander of the British Empire) in 2004. Cecilie Felicia Stokholm Banke Senior Researcher at the Danish Institute for International Studies specialized in Holocaust and genocide studies. From 2005-8 Associate Professor in 20th Century European history at Roskilde University. Banke has a PhD-degree (1999) in history from Roskilde University with a dissertation on progressive social policy in Scandinavia, and a MA-degree in history and sociology from Roskilde University/Lund University with a thesis on modernization and social change in Spain and Russia. Recent Publications on Spain during General Franco, the Scandina- vian welfare state (Den sociale ingeniørkunst i Danmark. Familie, stat og politik fra 1900 til 1945, 1999), Danish refugee policy during the 1930s (Demokratiets skyggeside. Flygtninge og Menneskeretttigheder i Danmark før Holocaust, 2005) and on the legacies of the Holocaust in post-war Europe (Remembering Europe’s Heart of Darkness in A European Memory?, Malgorzata Pakier & Bo Stråth, 2009). Banke serves as member of the Danish delegation to Task Force for International Cooperation on Holocaust Remembrance, and is in charge of the activities at DIIS, Holocaust and genocide. http://www.diis.dk/sw7581.asp Thorsten Wagner Research fellow at Scandinavian Studies Department, Humboldt University of Berlin, since 2008. Studies at the Hebrew University, Jerusalem, at the Technische Universität Berlin and the Freie Uni- versität Berlin. Postgraduate studies at the University of Wisconsin- Madison, USA. Ph.D.-project on the emancipation and acculturation of Danish Jewry 1780–1849 in a comparative European perspective. Since 2001 docent at the Educational Dept. of the Jewish Museum of Berlin, and fellow of the Danish Research Council, in affiliation with the Danish Center for Holocaust and Genocide Studies, Copenhagen, 2001-–005. Since 2007 docent for the Berlin program of the University of Washington-Seattle. Regular workshops and lectures at the Danish 324 Justice and Memory.indb 324 02.11.2009 13:39:55 Institute for Study Abroad, University of Copenhagen. Recent Publications: Hans Lassen Martensen. In: Wolfgang Benz (ed.), Handbuch des Antisemitismus. Judenfeindschaft in Geschichte und Gegen- wart, Saur, München 2009, forthcoming “Wiege der Haskalah? Der Kopenhagener Kontext der Familie Euchel.” In Andreas Kennecke (ed.), Vom Nutzen der Aufklärung oder: Woß tut me damit: Isaak Euchel (1756–1804), die jüdische und die deutsche Aufklärung, Berlin 2008, forthcoming.“Belated Heroism: The Danish Lutheran Church and the Jews, 1918-1945.” In Kevin P. Spicer (ed.), Antisemitism, Christian Ambivalence, and the Holocaust, Bloomington 2007, pp. 3-25. (Published in association with the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, Washington, D.C.) Ruth Wodak Distinguished Professor of Discourse Studies at Lancaster University since 2004 and has remained affiliated to the University of Vienna. Besides various other prizes, she was awarded the Wittgenstein Prize for Elite Researchers in 1996. Her research interests focus on discourse studies; gender studies; language and/in politics; prejudice and discrimination; and on ethnographic methods of linguistic field work. She is member of the editorial board of a range of linguistic journals and co-editor of the journals Discourse and Society, Critical Discourse studies, and Language and Politics, and co-editor of the book series Discourse Approaches to Politics, Society and Culture (DAPSAC). She has held visiting professorships in Uppsala, Stanford University, University Minnesota, University of East Anglia, and Georgetown University, and is corresponding member of the Austrian Academy of Sciences. 2006 and 2007, she was chair of the Humanities and Social Sciences Panel of the EURYI awards (ESF). 2008, she was awarded the Kerstin Hesselgren Chair of the Swedish Parliament (at University Örebrö). Recent publications: Ist Österreich ein ‘deutsches’ Land? (with R. de Cil- lia, 2006); Qualitative Discourse Analysis in the Social Sciences (with M. Krzyzanowski, 2008); Migration, Identity and Belonging (with G. Delanty, P. Jones, 2008), The Discursive Construction of History. Remembering the Wehrmacht’s War of Annihilation (with H. Heer, W. Manoschek, A. Pol- lak, 2008), The Politics of Exclusion (with M. Krzyzanowski, 2009), and 325 Justice and Memory.indb 325 02.11.2009 13:39:56 Gedenken im Gedankenjahr (with R. de Cillia, 2009). The monograph The construction of politics in action: ‘Politics as Usual’ (Palgrave) is in press (2009). http://www.ling.lancs.ac.uk/profiles/Ruth-Wodak/ Moshe Zimmermann Professor for German History and since 1986 Director of the Rich- ard-Koebner-Center for German History at the Hebrew University, Jerusalem.; Besides various other prizes, he was awarded the Less- ing-Prize of the Lessing Akademie Wolfenbüttel 2006. Author of many publications in German, English and Hebrew about nationalism, antisemitism, the history of sport, film-history and Ger- man-Jewish history, as well as about the Holocaust, collective memory in Germany and Israel, and German-Israeli relations. Involved with the curriculum planning of the Ministry of education. Also present in feuilleton and media discussions. Selected Publications: Wilhelm Marr – The Patriarch of Antisemitism, New York 1986; Wende in Israel. Zwischen Nation und Religion, Berlin 1996; Die deutschen Juden 1914-1945, München 1997; Deutsch,-Jüdisch, München 2000; German Past- Israeli memory, Tel Aviv 2002 [hebr.]; Goliaths Falle, Berlin 2004; Deutsch-jüdische Vergangenheit: Judenfeind- schaft als Herausforderung, Paderborn 2005. Deutsche gegen Deutsche. Das Schicksal der Juden 1938–1945. Berlin 2008. http://koebner.huji.ac.il/zimmermann.asp 326 Justice and Memory.indb 326 02.11.2009 13:39:56 Justice and Memory.indb 327 02.11.2009 13:39:56 Justice and Memory.indb 328 02.11.2009 13:39:56