Abstract
Public speeches and commemorations about World War II provide the occasion to reflect on historical events from a national, regional and European perspective. Within this context, Aline Sierp’s, History, Memory, and Trans-European Identity: Unifying Divisions is a welcome publication that traces the convergence of political elites, policy-makers, democratic processes and frameworks of remembrance in Germany and Italy from 1945 to 2010. The more that Europeans become integrated, ‘the more they experience a performative paradox’ (p. 2) in which national history is increasingly narrated within a European framework. Throughout the volume, Sierp investigates whether there is a convergence of national and European frameworks or whether the two narratives run parallel to one another. The empirical examples of Germany and Italy serve as ‘heuristic tools to highlight general developments within memory politics that are influenced by and transferable to the wider European framework’ (p. 5). By combining an analysis of elite political discourse with in-depth research of political speeches reflecting on World War II and the Holocaust, she traces the convergence of national and supranational frameworks of memory. Fluent in German, Italian and English, Sierp is able to combine an analysis of political speeches with individual interviews from members of the European Commission, Council of Europe, International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance, United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) and other organisations for a compelling comparison of the two democratic successor states to Fascism and Nazism. Having worked in archives in Berlin, Rome and Brussels, the book provides a much-needed comparative analysis of Germany and Italy, in addition to a novel discussion at the European level.
Chapter 1 examines history, memory and public policy. What is of utmost importance is the public use of history in the tradition of Jürgen Habermas and Karl Jaspers (pp. 10–19). Given this strong connection between ‘democratic culture and public reflection’ (p. 25), an analysis of public speeches referring to World War II, the Holocaust, National Socialism and Fascism reveal ways in which communities connect to historical events. From a total of 300 speeches in the German parliament, she analysed 106. From 200 speeches given in the Italian parliament, she focused on 112 for close analysis. At the European level, she researched various speeches at the Commission from 1950 to 2010, as well as treaties and European Parliament resolutions. That said, since political speeches by elites are examples of top-down official memory, one cannot help but wonder about their reception by ordinary people.
One of Sierp’s contributions to memory studies is linking the politics of memory with public policy. Indeed, it becomes a kind of ‘interpretive lens’ for an analysis of the past (p. 26). Commemorative speeches given on days of national mourning depict pivotal changes in generations and political systems. Sierp’s analysis is influenced by Reinhart Koselleck’s argument that there are ‘collective conditions for memories’ (p. 30). Hence, although memory is individual, policy decisions, public speeches, commemorations and resolutions provide ‘collective conditions’ enabling a common culture of remembrance. As she makes very clear, political memory takes place ‘from above’. By analysing commemorative speeches, one can better discern ‘memory as a political tool used in power and identity struggles’ in Germany and Italy, at both the national and European level (p. 31). As she argues, it was not simply the end of communism and the Cold War, coupled with the passing of time that affected the memory boom since 1989. The European project of integration allowed for the unifying of divisions across the continent (p. 30).
Chapter 2, aptly titled ‘Forty years of National Memory Constructions’, challenges the misperception of silence in three phases: immediate post-war, 1960s and 1970s, 1980s. Detecting a codification and even ritualisation of national memory during these three phases, she pays particular attention to the collective conditions in each country for remembering World War II. Generational differences in the 1960s and 1970s converged with the left-wing student movements in Germany, but less so in Italy. During the 1980s, German memory converged around a common framework, while the right-wing discourse challenged the Italian anti-Fascist consensus. In Germany, early speeches tended to focus on German victimisation. The introduction of a National Day of Mourning in 1952 remembered all the dead. Konrad Adenauer’s approach, emphasising the future over the past, encouraged what Hermann Lübbe termed a ‘communicative silence’ over a divisive past as the precondition for a democratic future. Sierp however calls the readers’ attention to the speeches of Theodor Heuss, the first president of the Federal Republic of Germany: ‘the decisive confrontation with National Socialism as the evil interlude of German history remains a German task’ (p. 35). Hence, Heuss in contrast to Adenauer underscored the moral and political importance of memory for democratic culture. Moreover, he viewed the 8th of May as a day of liberation and catastrophe. Sierp perceptively points out the difficult balance in the immediate post-war years between memory and justice, and memory and democracy.
In Italy, although the immediate pattern was similar, the memory of the resistance tended to valorise Italian heroism. The fact that Fascism lasted longer than National Socialism influences how it is remembered in Italian political speeches and commemorative ceremonies. The first Prime Minister of Italy, Alcide de Gasperi, argued, ‘Let us reject the reprisals of history and look towards the future’ (p. 42). President Luigi Einaudi referred to the ‘tragedy’ of war. Sierp’s analysis of public speeches traces how ‘negligence in Italy to recognise the wider European framework’ converged with narratives of heroism and victimhood (p. 49). As she notes, Italian commemorative speeches tended to concentrate solely on the national perspective, while German speeches recognised a wider European framework quite earlier on (p. 39). Thus, although public recognition of the war and Fascism were present in the immediate post-war years in both countries, public speeches were visibly constrained by domestic and international politics.
The student movement and social change in the 1960s and 1970s were pivotal in both countries. In addition to Willy Brandt’s symbolic genuflection at the Warsaw Ghetto in 1970, Sierp unearths political statements about the 8th of May that preceded Richard von Weizsäcker’s commemorative speech in 1985. She argues that the political shift in German to the left contributed to an increasing confrontation with the past. With respect to Italy, she highlights how the struggle against terrorism in the 1970s was compared to the struggle against Nazism and Fascism in the 1940s (p. 56). The Italian Resistance myth became even more important, ‘fostering a common sense of national belonging and pride in the achievements of the past’ (p. 53). Political speeches vacillated between normalisation and contrition in the 1980s. With the election of Helmut Kohl as Chancellor, there was a return to conservative politics in Germany. In Italy, however, ‘the anti-Fascist consensus upon which Italy’s politics of memory had been built started to unravel’ (p. 62).
Chapter 3 focuses on the Europeanisation and convergence of national memory by paying attention to how the revolutions of 1989 and expansion of the European Union (EU) in 2004 were part of a Europeanisation of memory. The Balkan crisis in the 1990s, with the sudden return of war to Europe entailed increasing reference to the Holocaust and World War II. Throughout the chapter, Sierp highlights the ‘transformative quality’ of memory for a democratic future. She reminds the reader that the European dimension of remembrance was already visible in the Adenauer years as his early speeches from 1949 demonstrate: ‘There is no doubt for us that, as regards our origin and our convictions, we belong to the Western European world’ (p. 107). In von Weizsäcker’s speech on 8 May 1985, he stressed the link between German and European memory ‘8 May 1945 is a date of decisive historical importance in Europe […] 8 May is an important turning point, not only in German but also in European history’ (p. 108). Likewise, the fall of communism in 1989 was accompanied by numerous programmes and policies oriented towards the integration of Europe and the overcoming of national divisions.
The title of Chapter 4, ‘A European Memory?’ immediately raises the question of whether there is a unified memory. The EU’s common engagement with the past is linked with a supranational attempt to create a common identity from above. What are the problems and limits of European memory and identity? Is there a ‘floating gap’ between the national and European framework? Sierp suggests that one of the aims of the EU is to provide a post-national forum in which to discuss divisive pasts. Speeches in the 1990s were marked by a reawakened interest in European integration and painful pasts as the EU moved towards enlargement in 2004. Through insightful interviews – most notably with members of the Europe for Citizens Programme, Active European Remembrance – she outlines the increasing Europeanisation of World War II, particularly with respect to the Holocaust.
While Sierp’s title suggests a discussion of history, memory and trans-European identity, the appealing content of the book is its careful focus on national and European communities of memory. Hence the link to Benedict Anderson’s imagined communities and the social imaginaries of Cornelius Castoriadis. However, what seems under-thematised is the divided aspect of German memory 1945–1989. Instead Sierp focuses solely on West German and unified German official speeches. In that sense, Jeffrey Herf’s Divided Memory (1997) is relevant for those interested in the other half. Admittedly there are numerous books on this topic, but the importance of the two post-war Germanies, or the two German successor states, to the Third Reich is an important point that is surprisingly under-represented in Sierp’s otherwise excellent book.
Although the prefix ‘trans’ is part of the book’s title, Sierp analyses how individuals and collective organisations identify themselves as European, rather than trans-European. To that extent, the difference between European and trans-European is not immediately clear to the reader. However, there is an interesting leitmotif, which is captured in the subtitle: Unifying Divisions. At various times, Sierp reflects on the writings of Ernst Renan to emphasise solidarity found in painful memories. ‘Common mourning creates a sense of community and continuity and fosters a nation’s sense of identity’ (p. 23). This is particularly visible in the increasing presence of foreign dignitaries who are invited to speak at public commemorations of the Holocaust and World War II. Moving beyond a national framework into a European one affirms Renan’s argument that ‘common pain unites more than common joy’ (p. 109). In her careful analysis of political speeches and commemorations, Aline Sierp challenges the idea that political experiences in Europe continue to be interpreted and remembered ‘exclusively in terms of national history’ (p. 115). Instead, there is a strong convergence between the two. History, Memory, and Trans-European Identity: Unifying Divisions gives much food for thought and will appeal to a wide range of readers.