institutions becomes an emotional and intellectual experience which will remain long remembered. An event that will become a point of reference and a refuge of truth that will influence the formation of their own thoughts and experiences.
Today’s adults know more about history and have a better understanding of its importance, because they themselves, as teenagers, visited our Memorial Sites in the 1990s, and later. This also applies to today’s teachers. When they arrive at our Memorial Sites with their students, it is usually not their first visit, but a return to the places that had once given and shown them something important. This indicates how essential it is to assist educators in preparing their class or group for these visits.
To a large extent, generational changes redefine the tactical priorities of our remembrance institutions – we need a reasonable, international conversation in order to be prepared for this redefinition together.
Social dialogue
The COVID-19 pandemic has clearly demonstrated that the sphere of influence of Memorial Sites cannot be confined to their physical boundaries. We have still not shared enough about our experiences from that difficult period and we have not fully explored potential ideas for our future remote-based operations.
We live in a time when the axes of dialogue and the vectors of political discourse are undergoing significant changes that are difficult to define. In the past, sources of knowledge for adolescents were their families, schools, books. Today, these sources have increasingly become online platforms, social networking sites, discussion groups, like-minded online communities, recirculated memes, viral messages and disinformation, slander and hate campaigns.
This forces us to devise and coordinate entirely new, customized pathways to reach our audiences, as well as new methods for narrating the past, passing on and strengthening historical truth and highlighting its consequences for today’s world in an even more compelling way. I am certain that our experience derived from the past decades is a good way to prepare for this effort. Since their creation, Memorial Sites have not been structurally linked to the school education system, and, to a limited degree, were part of the difficult narratives shared within families. And books were not our main tools.
• Peace and war
In the last decades, many people felt surprised when Jewish communities throughout the world, marked by the experience of the Shoah, associated almost every act of antisemitism with the atrocious times of genocide. Today, as we all observe Russia’s attack on Ukraine, politicians, journalists, educators and various other participants in the public debate themselves draw analogies to World War II. It seems to me that never before has a pedagogical understanding of the role of the past been as crucial as it is now.
This is partially due to the disgusting propaganda originating in Moscow, which accuses Ukraine of Nazism and fashions itself as a liberating power. But it can only partially be explained by the Kremlin’s rhetoric. The fact that more than 40 countries have spoken out in support of Ukraine, coupled with the great outpouring of human solidarity with Ukrainian refugees, suggests that the perspective of a passive spectator is largely being abandoned.
The dissemination of our view of history is, certainly, no small contribution to the understanding of the present and a serious warning for the future. But it is also indicative of the public’s increasing understanding that answers to today’s most difficult questions can be found in the patterns of the past. This evolution may only be a short “weather window” triggered by the war. But it validates the relevance of our education and poses new, further-reaching questions. One of them is about preserving a specific vision of history in the public discourse – one which becomes a permanent point of reference, rather than a mere sequence of dates and facts.
• Symbolism
The debate about the values and threats related to the symbolic understanding of our Memorial Sites, which began 25 years ago, has yet to be resolved. The debate has focused on the limits of possible comparisons of cases of genocide. However, symbolism does not only manifest itself in the sphere of comparisons. The “never again” appeal in itself embodies the need to link today’s tragedies with the message of the past. This clearly applies to any case of antisemitic, racist and de-humanizing aggression.
We cannot fail to draw on the experience of the past in the face of mounting populism, manipulation and propaganda. We need to revisit that discussion, without being overcome by fear of what will anyway always remain beyond comparison. We need to do that in order to better and more wisely identify and expose those elements of the political discourse which have been resorting to the same, or at least very similar, tactical or rhetorical ploys that we remember all too well from the past. The “never again” promise cannot only refer to the content of the message being conveyed; it must also be a warning against its present forms and tactical tricks.
• The polyphony of remembrance
Remembrance, to which we have dedicated years of work is not a monologue. This is clear to any guide and any wise teacher and educator. While the discourse of the authorities in a conflict situation always takes on the shape of propaganda, remembrance – especially in a post-conflict context – is always polyphonic. The notes of the polyphony depend on family narratives, local traumas preserved in people’s memories and on one’s own sensitivity. Textbooks will never account for that. But it is the truth, after all.
If we want to be inclusive and credible – while remaining within the frame of unconditional historical truth – we must embrace that polyphonic side of remembrance with greater wisdom. It is also with greater wisdom that we should integrate the accounts handed down within families and encourage discourse with local narratives. We should stimulate the young generation to reflect on what has already been instilled in them, as their history, in order to better show its meaning, its background and its consequences.
• Education and the rite of passage
Referring to my earlier comment, Memorial Sites were not created by education systems. They were created in diverse ways in particular countries and their origins can usually be traced back to the Survivors and the non-governmental organizations created by and around them. We have always been ahead of our times. Decades passed before schools began to align their curricula with what students experienced while visiting the Memorial Sites.
Our narrative has always been threatened by various fashionable changes, novelties and gadgets. Some have been captivated by audio-guides, others by interactive features and still others by multimedia. This is not what should attract the next generations of students to our Memorial Sites, the strength of which was, is, and always will be in their authenticity. Today – as I see it – one does not visit Auschwitz; one passes through it. It is not about observing it from the outside – it is about placing oneself at the core of the great question that is the legacy of Auschwitz. For everyone, it is a kind of rite of passage. We want to and we must do everything in our power to ensure that the young people who pass through our Memorial Sites emerge transformed and that we at least plant the seeds of future change deep inside them.
It is this function of the rite of passage that must remain at the very center of our attention. Both yesterday and today, young people must pass through our Sites and Museums and emerge transformed, able to ask themselves more conscious questions about their own choices in today’s world. Only then will it become possible for our message not to be reduced to a mere history lesson in school curricula. Only then will our message be present in the future, right where it should be - in education about society, politics, media, religion and ethics.
• Moral anxiety
We have placed too much hope in simple emotions. We have seen young people cry, we have seen them stand in silence and reflection, we have seen them at a loss for words. Too many times we were easily convinced that it worked. We chose Anne Frank’s Diary as recommended reading for class after class of young teenagers, because we expected that through identification and empathy we would win education. Meanwhile, those groups of rebellious teens, who – as is typical for their age – saw the world in very contrasting colors, were being encouraged to identify with a person who was doomed to die, whom her own parents could not protect and who was threatened by evil – an evil which was not only external but, even worse - faceless.
Today, we must think deeply about what we want to achieve through our activities. This is not only about historical facts or only about empathetic emotions. If we want the rite of passage to work fully, if we want people to emerge from the Memorial Sites better prepared to act, we need to stir moral anxiety in their hearts. Anxiety about their deeds, words and the choices they make as human beings. This commitment must more fully become a consequence of visiting our Memorial Sites.
We cannot do it alone or in isolation, we need to act together in a planned and concerted way. The moral shape of the world does not depend on schools, the media or politicians. Still, it is what we all see as a priority and to what we have dedicated decades of our lives.