On the borders of memory
Barriers of multidirectionality within hegemonic memory of the Netherlands
Erik van Halewijn University of Amsterdam Research Master Cultural Analysis
Supervisor David Duindam, University of Amsterdam d.a.duindam@uva.nl Reader Boris Noordenbos, University of Amsterdam, b.noordenbos@uva.nl June 11, 2020 Word count: 16.735
2 For the memories that echo in deafening silence.
3
Abstract
In this thesis, I explore recent developments in the hegemonic memory of the Netherlands. In three different instances of commemorative practices, I identify deviating conceptions of history that are introduced to challenge the hegemonic memory in place. Through a critical discourse analysis, I contextualize and analyze the statements that relate to the deviating conceptions. In doing so, I do not only consider the segments themselves, but trace them along the development of certain practices and understandings of memory in the Netherlands. Centralizing the memories of multicultural communities, I identify structures that constrain the integration and articulation of these memories in the framework of hegemonic memory in the Netherlands. On a theoretical level, I simultaneously provide necessary commentary of Rothberg’s theory of multidirectionality. I argue for a nuance that conceives the interaction between collective memories as neither competitive nor multidirectional. In my analysis, I consider the constraining factors of articulation that emerge from the introduction of complex implications, alternative frames of mourning and deviating conceptions of decolonial
approaches. The barriers of multidirectionality that I identify provide valuable insight into the restrictive workings that still exist within the memorable articulation of histories.
Keywords: multidirectionality, hegemonic memory, memorability, colonial legacies,
4 Table of Contents Abstract ... 3 Introduction ... 5 Memories in motion ... 8 Methodology ... 12 Overview ... 13
Emerging complex implications ... 15
Implicated pasts ... 17
Memories of the Holocaust ... 20
When implicated subjects appear ... 23
Conclusion ... 27
Bodies worth remembering ... 29
Framing the past ... 30
Bodies worth commemorating ... 34
Frames in action ... 38
Conclusion ... 41
Confronting colonial legacies ... 43
A past worth remembering ... 45
Colonial legacies ... 47
What does it mean to decolonize? ... 51
Conclusion ... 54
Conclusion ... 56
5
Introduction
Situated in an empty church, Dutch writer Arnon Grunberg spoke on the 75th
Commemoration of the Dead (Dodenherdenking). Broadcast on national television, Grunberg reflected on the contemporary relevance of the commemoration. The son of two Holocaust-survivors himself, Grunberg noted that “the belly that birthed the Third Reich is still fertile”1
(Grunberg). Indeed, Grunberg saw the contemporary relevance of the commemoration as intrinsic to the act itself, as “this commemoration is also always a warning”2 (Grunberg)
Moreover, Grunberg applied the narrative of the past a filter on the present. “For me it was clear from the start”, Grunberg stated, “when they talk about [Dutch-Moroccans], they talk about me”3 (Grunberg). Through the memory of the Second World War, Grunberg identifies
with the marginalized position of Dutch-Moroccans in the present. Indeed, it appears that through the articulation of the memory of the Second World War, current day hardships can be illuminated. Foremost, however, the explicit delineation of the cultural background of this group shows that there is a systemic exclusion that takes part. More than articulating these hardships, then, there is a need to address the problematic roots that this structure entails.
In this thesis, I explore recent developments in the hegemonic memory of the Netherlands. In each chapter, I identify an event in which deviating conceptions of history are introduced to challenge the hegemonic memory in place. Through a critical discourse analysis, I contextualize and analyze statements that relate to the deviating conceptions. That is, I do not only consider the segments themselves, but trace them along the development of certain practices and understandings of memory in the Netherlands. While some of the analyzed memories take on a transnational character, I focus on the national articulation offered in the
1 Original text: “De buik die het Derde Rijk baarde is nog steeds vruchtbaar”. All translations provided by the
author, unless indicated otherwise.
2 “Deze herdenking is altijd ook een waarschuwing”
3 “Voor mij was het vanaf het begin af aan duidelijk. Als ze het over Marokkanen hebben, dan hebben ze het
6 selected cases. In particular, I explore three occurrences that (attempt to) offer a new narrative to be included in hegemonic memory. First, I analyze the apology offered by Rutte at the National Holocaust Commemoration in 2020. I take Rutte’s statement as a revision of hegemonic memory, in which political narrative arises that shapes national identity. Following, I explore two separate instances of proposed protests at the national Commemoration of the Dead. In chapter two, I take the 2017 proposal by Rikko Voorberg, in which he suggests an alternative commemoration to happen alongside the official ceremony. I use this instance to explore the interaction between different frame and their implications for mourning. Following I explore the deviating conceptions of decolonial practices that appeared the year following. Here, activist Rogier Meijerink initiated a proclaimed decolonial protest, which was subsequently protested by other non-white communities in the Netherlands. The short period of time in which these instances happened show the changing nature of hegemonic memory in the Netherlands. The contestations and revisions of the narrative in place, I argue, provide rich objects of analysis that provide insight into the current state of hegemonic memory in the Netherlands. In analyzing these cases, I outline who is in charge of determining the memories that are amplified in hegemonic memory. Similarly, I focus on whose memories are actually installed.
On a more personal note, the motivation for this research concerns the responsibility I attribute to memory studies as a field. The source of conflict that these instances provide, however, signal a need to address different attitudes that these practices invite. Above all, the hostile and sometimes violent responses that diverging opinions attract, indicate the importance that the practices I analyze have in the everyday life of individuals. In this vein, memory studies has a role to fulfill in theorizing these contentions, and look at the forms of marginalization that pertain to them. Indeed, the research I conduct is personal, insofar as I locate myself within the practices that I analyze. The developments I explore simultaneously influences the sense
7 of identity I obtain from participating and drawing from these practices of memory. I certainly do not place myself outside of the objects of analysis, and wish to emphasize the influence this might indirectly have on the interpretations provided in this thesis.
In the chapters to follow, I centralize the position of histories that do not adhere to hegemonic memory and the commemorative performances that mark the canon. In this case, the selection of objects provides insight into the various dispositions that the memory of various multicultural4 communities hold towards the hegemonic canon. I choose to highlight these
dispositions in my analysis, so as to supplement the field of memory studies in at least three ways. Foremost, I explore the relationship that exists between hegemonic memory and those memories of multicultural communities. Indeed, the memories of individuals often exceeds the boundaries of the nation state, but the frameworks deployed in memory studies are often lacking in this regard (Rothberg Multidirectional Memory in Migratory Settings 125). Oftentimes, these histories concern those of recent patterns of migration, but in certain cases these histories may also concern multicultural communities that have resided in the Netherlands for a longer time. Furthermore, and relating to the first point, addressing these barriers can serve to work towards more inclusive practices of memory. Indeed, the image of the nation being exercised through memory practices is a recurring thought in the selected cases. Nevertheless, if the terms and conditions are based upon a culturally homogenous memory, it fails to adequately capture the presence of memories in the Netherlands. In other words, this thesis deals with how the created memory of the nation can more include its
4 I use the term ‘multicultural communities here to denote those social groups who identify with memories
that do not conform with the cultural strain of Dutch hegemonic memory. There are several other terms that I have considered, yet have hazardous corollaries associated with them. For instance, the term ‘bicultural communities’ do not allow for the presence of more than two cultures in any given context. In addition, I choose not to use the term ‘ethnic communities’ due to the danger the term carries when used in improperly defined context, where the emphasis of their cultural background works in an oriental fashion. Moreover, such a term may be seen to imply the absence of ethnicity in for ethnically Dutch individual, a problematic
implication which leads to terms such as blank. At the same time, I disprove of the alternative term “migrated histories” in cases where it actually concerns memories of second, third or even fourth generation members. Here, the term fails to capture the intertwinement these memories have with local contexts.
8 changing demographics. Finally, in addressing these discrepancies, I argue that the limits of current approaches within memory studies can be identified. The cultural scope of memory studies has struggled with the inclusion of non-Western cultures, with colonial corollaries emerging in prominent pieces of analysis (see Rothberg Multidirectional Memory: Remembering the Holocaust). Looking at the incongruities that exist provides a direction for a way forward.
Moreover, on a more theoretical level, I take on Rothberg’s theory of multidirectionality, in which I accentuate the interaction between memories in the public sphere (Multidirectional Memory: Remembering the Holocaust 2). Specifically, I emphasize the manners in which multidirectionality fails to manifest itself, or how certain statements may constrain multidirectionality in the future. The focus I place on these (anticipated) barriers of multidirectionality serves to develop a more comprehensive approach of the interaction between memories. I argue that far from being a space of limitless articulation, not all interactions between memories in the public sphere adhere to a framework of multidirectionality. Rather, I contend that several factors and existing structures of inequalities constrain the articulation of particular memories.
Memories in motion
The interaction between memories and the ways in which this is influenced by commemorative practices has been a much debated topic in the field of memory studies. The interaction between sites and acts of remembrance is theorized by French historian Pierre Nora, introducing the concept of lieux de mémoire (7). Noting the absence of static environments in which memories are captured (so-called millieux de mémoire), Nora argues that these sites “where a sense of historical continuity persists” (7). For Nora, these sites function as places where the memory of the nation is anchored. In a (now) much-criticized distinction between history and memory,
9 Nora perceives the former to be a subjective organization of the past, while the latter is “only accommodates those facts that suit it” (8). Indeed, this formulation buttresses a nationalist project that perceives it as a natural an apolitical phenomenon. Nora assumes a naturally positive association to exist between a site and the memory it emits. On the contrary, these sites are subject to change, so that different groups may diverge in their associations. As such, they can become “places of abjection” as well (Bernbeck et. al 12). Indeed, it is this mystifying force that Nora ascribes to sites of memory that veils the colonial pasts of post-imperial countries (Bernbeck 254). Derderian expands on this notion, noting the transference of memories through non-material media. It is through these paths that colonial blind spots within national memories can be addressed (40). In addition, the concept of lieux de mémoire relies too heavily on centralized forms of memory, neglecting scattered and ephemeral sites of memory. The consideration of specific sites of memory as places where the past is mediated is significant, insofar as it helps understand why they oftentimes form a platform for confrontation.
Irish-Dutch memory studies scholar Ann Rigney widens the scope, considering the manners in which memories reproduce themselves beyond lieux de mémoire. In her work, Rigney identifies the presence of a “plenitude and loss” model that ascribes a higher degree of authenticity to perceived primary sources of memory (13). Moreover, it is through this conception that memory is seen as either being preserved or in need of being recovered (13). Rigney counters this conception, specifically focusing on the influence that forms of cultural memory have on recollection in the present. Rather than a process of ‘excavation’, Rigney argues that “memories of a shared past are collectively constructed and reconstructed” (14). Here, memory is taken as a containing performative aspects that constantly renegotiate the relation to the past as perceived in the present. Moving beyond the binate plenitude and loss, Rigney argues that memories are selectively recollected by “individuals and groups … through
10 various media” (17). These memories are recalled along two lines. First, there is what Rigney labels “mobile media” such as text and image, who “connect up people” without “[meeting] up face-to-face” (20). Secondly, these memories are recollected through the “recursivity”, or the “[repeated performance] of acts of remembrance” (20). Here, Rigney refutes the possibility of complete retrieval of the past through commemorations, arguing instead that these perform “a pious desire to remember on the part of those who survived or those of later generations” (22). This is not to place the acts of remembrance outside of current interests, as they are often appropriated to fit modern needs. Indeed, it is through repetitive recollection that memories might fragment to form new memory mosaics (18).
For Rigney, the articulation of memories pertaining to marginalized groups is, therefore, not so much a process of recovery, but of facilitating “mnemonic technologies and memorial forms” in place (24). In a similar vein, the use of certain resources and commemorations in place is central in the development of Rothberg’s theory of multidirectionality. Looking at the interaction of memories in the public sphere, Rothberg argues that “far from blocking other historical memories from view in a competitive struggle for recognition, the emergence of Holocaust memory on a global scale has contributed to the articulation of other histories” (Multidirectional Memory: Remembering the Holocaust 6). In other words, rather than seeing the public sphere as one with limited room for memories to be articulated in, Rothberg perceives the interaction between collective memories5 as that of a
faciliatory nature. In particular, Rothberg resists what he claims has been a dominant understanding of collective memory as “competitive memory”, or a “zero-sum struggle over scarce resources” (3). In other words, the Holocaust does not overshadow the articulation of
5 For Rothberg, collective memories simultaneously emphasize the individual frame of remembrance – an
interpretation that returns throughout the demonstration of his argument. More than a rigid understanding of collective frames, however, Rothberg arguments rest on a more permeable conception of memory
11 other narratives. Rather, Rothberg perceives the interaction between collective memories as one that is “subject to ongoing negotiation, cross-referencing, and borrowing; as productive and not private” (Multidirectional Memory: Remembering the Holocaust 3, emphasis added). In other words, the interplay between memories is necessarily advantageous, contributing to the emancipation of more non-canonical memories. While the arguments strikes optimistic note, it is nonetheless naïve. Although Rothberg demonstrates the proposed argument through a number of selected cases, this does not mean that every interaction is productive in the articulation of memories. The critique of a zero-sum perception is certainly in place, the capsizing to the other end of the spectrum is shortsighted. Moreover, Rothberg identifies multidirectional memory as a theoretical concept that works towards alleviating colonial residues – a focus that I welcome. Nevertheless, the absence of Rigney’s work in Rothberg’s discussion of multidirectionality is striking, to say the least. The absence of nuance in this understanding forms one of the points of departure of this thesis. Despite the absence of Rigney in Rothberg’s work, the critical debate surrounding the theory of multidirectionality is lacking. Rather, Rothberg’s theory has been widely adapted, functioning as methodological approach instead of a disputable approach to the workings of memory6. In the chapters to follow, I
provide some of the discrepancies that exist between theory and practice.
Throughout this thesis, I make use of the term ‘hegemonic memory’. I use this term to denote the dominant narrative that surrounds the acts of remembrance that I analyze. More specifically, I take hegemonic memory to be a form of cultural memory that is through the “institutional buttressing of communication” (Assmann and Czaplicka 131). That is, in each scenario I identify institutions and their spokespersons that are heavyweights in the creation of encapsulating narratives on a national scale. Indeed, it is through hegemonic memory that a dominant and “culturally institutionalized heritage of a society” (Assmann and Czaplicka 130).
12 This is not to consider it omnipotent, as the objects of analysis contain vocal discrepancies. Certainly, as Frank van Vree notes, the term has its limits in the consideration of more individual workings of memory (4). Nevertheless, the presence of official commemorative definitions and instructions hold significant weight in the determination of meaning relating to these practices. Similarly, the representative roles that some of the analyzed discourses have, relate directly to (state) institutions that greatly shape the dominant memory discourse. Nevertheless, to supplement for the abstract conceptions of the term, I simultaneously consider the specific and more individual elements that mark the situation.
Methodology
The method that I make use of in this thesis concerns critical discourse analysis. Language is taken as a social conductor in which a larger web of societal patterns lies embedded. As such, it forms an access-point through which “structures of power and ideologies”, as well as the “hidden causes” of the system in which language operates can be addressed (Tenorio 187). The ‘critical’ aspect of this approach makes it so that the scope of analysis does not limit itself to the language as such, as it attempts to contextualize it in a broader sociopolitical setting. In this vein, I do not only analyze the selected arrays of discourse in isolation, as I place them in larger theoretical debates within memory studies. Moreover, in order to capture the foundation on which these statements are built, I furthermore trace earlier prominent discourses that surround the issues and practices of memory that are raised through the object. I deploy the method of critical discourse analysis so as to provide a meticulous approach that is capable of arresting language in its relation to a broader sociopolitical setting.
13
Overview
This thesis is divided up into three chapters, each of which deals with distinct discrepancies relating to hegemonic memory. In each chapter, I introduce the object, after which I move into a discussion of the relevant theoretical debates. Next, I trace the development of the pertinent memories and memory-practices in their relation to the object. I conclude each chapter with a critical discourse analysis and offer some thoughts on more inclusive practices of memory.
Chapter one deals with a remarkable occurrence at the 2020 National Holocaust Commemoration, where prime minister Mark Rutte apologized on behalf of the government for the role it fulfilled during the Second World War. The first of its kind, this statement and the commentary with which it was presented represent a revision in the hegemonic memory of the Second World War. Here, I discuss the transference of memory and responsibility through Hirsch and Rothberg. In the analyzed discourse, I identify the presence of an implicated subject – more specifically, a complex implication. I explore the conditions under which the complex implication appears, where I pay attention to the dispersion of the newly articulated responsibility. Moreover, I look at the effect the introduction of the complex implication has on the articulation of excluded histories. Here, I argue that through the introduction of a complex implication, a historical continuum arises that excludes a diverse set of memories in the Netherlands. The political agenda that is introduced through Rutte’s statement prioritizes memories of the Holocaust that are tied to national boundaries, restricting the articulation of migrated histories.
In the second chapter, I look at a proposed commemoration that was to take place simultaneously with the national 4th of May commemoration in 2017. The alternative
commemoration utilized the framework of the national commemoration to articulate the recent history of refugees who perished in their crossing to Europe. This performative piece was fiercely opposed in several media outlets, leading to the eventual cancellation of the proposed
14 commemoration. I analyze the discussion that took place in the run-up to the anticipated commemoration, accentuating the interaction between different frames of commemoration. First, I outline the concept of the frame using Halbwachs and Butler, after which I look at the Commemoration of the Dead as an act of remembrance. Here, I also look at earlier contentions that the frame of the national commemoration witnessed. Finally, I look at the televised debate two days before the planned commemoration, where I focus on the degree of multidirectionality that is introduced in the alternative commemoration. I contend that the more ‘aggressive’ approach taken fails to articulate the memory of the refugee crisis in the public sphere, further posing it is a concrete dilution of the cultural significance embedded in the Commemoration of the Dead.
The final chapter deals with a subsequent disruption that marked the Commemoration of the Dead in 2018. Here, I analyze a proposed protest that was to instigate an auditory disruption during the two minutes of silence of the Commemoration of the Dead. Despite its intention, the proposal also received critique from the Moluccan football supporter club AFCA Maluku – indicating a lack of consensus of what it means to decolonize. I trace the placement of colonial legacies in the hegemonic memory, with a specific focus on the memories of the Indonesian National Revolution. Next I look at the social memory of the South-Moluccan community in the Netherlands, where I consider their relationship with the Dutch state. Finally, looking at the statement released by AFCA Maluku, I discuss what it means to decolonize and how a more comprehensive decolonial approach can be established. Specifically, I argue that two contesting narratives surrounding the colonial rule of the Netherlands problematize Meijerink’s decolonial approach. Instead, I contend that a more nuanced understanding of colonial structures is needed to move forward.
15
Emerging complex implications
Once a year, the Wertheimpark in Amsterdam turns into a ceremonial space where politicians and members of the Jewish, Sinti and Roma communities gather to commemorate the victims of the Holocaust. Known as the National Holocaust Commemoration, the event takes place on the last Sunday of January. In 2020, the commemoration coincided with 75th anniversary of the
liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau and was marked by a significant gesture. Amidst the congregation, prime minister Mark Rutte held a speech in which he stated,
“When the reign [of the German forces] became a threat, our governmental institutions fell short as the guardians of justice and safety. Now that the last survivors are still amongst us, I apologize today on behalf of the government for the manner in which the government acted [overheidshandelen van toen]. And I do that realizing that no word can encapsulate something so big and horrid as the Holocaust.”7 (“Toespraak van
minister-president”)
Acting as the representative of the government, Rutte introduces a nuance that reframes the historical position of the government during the Second World War. Here, the government is configured as falling short as “guardians justice and safety”, leaving it as an unfulfilled responsibility in diachronic terms. The revision of the memory of the government positions it as neither victim nor perpetrator, but a gradation of involvement. Moreover, in addressing the public on behalf of the state, Rutte’s statement is significant in its symbolic charge. Its complete
7 “Toen het gezag een bedreiging werd, zijn onze overheidsinstanties tekortgeschoten, als hoeders van recht en
veiligheid … Nu de laatste overlevenden nog onder ons zijn, bied ik vandaag namens de regering excuses aan voor het overheidshandelen van toen. Dat doe ik in het besef dat geen woord zoiets groots en gruwelijks als de Holocaust ooit kan omvatten.”
16 connotation is best illustrated through the remark provided by Rutte in an interview immediately after the commemoration, stating
“Of course, all commemorations of the Second World War are important. But this one concerns something so awful, the inhumane separation, murdering of more than one hundred thousand Dutchmen; Jews, Sinti, Roma, men, women, children. If now, today, we want to combat discrimination, anti-Semitism, we need to understand what happened back then. And we need to articulate this, because it is so huge, that if you realize this, I hope that people will say that we cannot give anti-Semitism another chance. That it shouldn’t be allowed”8 (“Rutte biedt excuses aan”)
In this commentary, Rutte complements the repositioning of the government with an educational value. Omening the possible forms of contemporary discrimination, Rutte portrays the understanding of the government’s implication during the Second World War as one that contains a sense of urgency. In complementing a revision of the mode of implication with an articulation of its contemporary relevance, Rutte’s speech raises question about the context in which such a revision of memory occurs. Under what circumstances do revisions of historical roles appear and on whose account? Moreover, how do these revisions affect the articulation of other histories?
In this chapter, I analyze these two passages of Rutte’s speech at the National Holocaust Commemoration. First, I trace current debates surrounding the transfer of memories between generations and the responsibilities associated with them. Here, I outline the notion of
8 “Alle herdenkingen over de tweede wereldoorlog zijn belangrijk. Maar deze gaat over zoiets verschrikkelijks,
het onmenselijke apart zetten, vermoorden van over de hinderduizend Nederlanders; Joden, Sinti, Roma, mannen, vrouwen, kinderen. Willen we nu, vandaag, antisemitisme, discriminatie, antisemitisme bestrijden, dan moeten we snappen wat er toen gebeurd is. End at moeten we ook uitspreken. Want dat is zo groot, dat als je dat realiseert, hoop ik dat mensen ook zullen zeggen, dat kunnen we niet opnieuw een kans geven dat antisemitisme. Dat kan niet”
17 postmemory and the implicated subject. Next, I provide an overview of the development of the memory of the Holocaust in a national context. I choose to focus on a broader development of the post-War narrative rather than just the commemoration itself, as the analyzed statements concern a change in the overall discourse. Addressing earlier changes in the memory of the Second World War, I pay specific attention to earlier instances that foreshadow an apology on behalf of the government. Finally, I address the conceptions of implication and responsibility that are established through the two statements, where I accentuate the effect this has on the articulation of other histories. Here, I argue that the introduction of the complex implication through Rutte’s statement is charged with a clear political message. Rather, I contend that it is through the political narrative produced that a historical continuum is conjured that limits the articulation of migrated histories as such.
Implicated pasts
In this section, I outline some of the forms in which memories are transferred between generations and the implications this has in the present. That is, I explore the ways in which we are ‘caught up’ in events that precede our birth, and how our memories are affected by it. In the field of memory studies, the inheritance of memories of the traumatic events of the Holocaust have been a much-debated topic of discussion. More recently, however, the transfer of memories through particular structures have been explored in different contexts as well. The emergence of new comprehensions of responsibility and relations to the past introduce multiple theoretical questions that remain to be addressed.
Focusing on the relation that the children of Holocaust-survivors hold towards memories of the Holocaust themselves, Romanian-American memory studies scholar Marianne Hirsch theorizes the intergenerational transfer of memories within families marked by traumatic experiences of the Holocaust. Hirsch introduces the concept of “postmemory” as
18 a structure with which to understand these relations (105-106). Hirsch argues that these “inherited memories” are dominant in the lives of the second generation, to the extent that they “seem to constitute memories in their own right” (107, emphasis in original). To this end, the notion of postmemory is a structure of transmittance that “approximates memory in its affective force” (109). Moreover, it is the presence of postmemory as that which prompts a sense of “personal/familial/generational sense of ownership and protectiveness” concerning events of the Holocaust (104). Centered in familial transference, Hirsch argues for the “close proximity” that these children hold to the hardships of the past, suggesting an inescapability that marks the postmemorial structure as such (112). Indeed, it is through these structures that children become entangled in the traumatic pasts of their families. As such, Hirsch is productive in providing some of the ways in which memories are transferred between generations. At the same time, while Hirsch is successful in considering the direct relation of the second generation, the concept of postmemory remains within the bounds of familial structures. In placing her focus on the analysis of cultural works of other second-generation artists, Hirsch unintentionally implies the possibility for identification with postmemory outside of the familial structure. That is, in basing the notion of post-memory on her reading of other second-generation artists, Hirsch accesses the postmemory of other familial structures. The implication in the past does not only result from the familial structure, as there is a need to factor in the broader social and political conditions under which these structures are formed. Furthermore, in suggesting a sense of ownership and protectiveness, Hirsch proposes an almost untouched intergenerational transfer of the victims’ trauma. This rigidity in conceptions of the past does not allow for nuances or revisions in the memory of certain events. In other words, this formulation is problematic insofar as it nearly equates the transference of trauma in familial structures with the actual witnessing of the trauma itself. This conception of transference lacks an understanding of agency, which is especially problematic when considering the transference
19 of memories other than that of Holocaust survivors. How does the concept of postmemory affect the descendants of historical perpetrators and bystanders? While Hirsch raises this problem at a certain point, it remains an unanswered point in the analysis (107).
In order to address this multiplicity of historical implications, Rothberg introduces the concept of the implicated subject. Extending the scope of analysis beyond the children of Holocaust-survivors, the implicated subject works to consider the “entanglement in historical and present-day injustices” (Implicated 2). In between identification and disidentification, Rothberg positions the implicated subject as a nuanced understanding that deals with the “implication in the conditions that [contribute]” to certain injustices (Implicated 6). It is through this understanding that a rigid conception of victimhood and perpetratorship can be overcome, which Rothberg argues lies at the foundation of debates surrounding traumatic inheritance (Implicated 7). In doing so, the implicated subject works as an overarching category that also captures legally less articulated forms of perpetratorship and victimhood. Moreover, Rothberg moves beyond a singular conception of victimhood and perpetration, allowing for their coexistence. The “coexistence of different relations to past and present injustices” are what Rothberg labels “complex implications” (Implicated 8). Through complex implications, a subject can occupy multiple positions simultaneously within different histories. In this vein, Rothberg supplements Hirsch in considering the effects of multiple generations of history and the involvement within them.
Nevertheless, I identify two underdeveloped theoretical aspects in these theories, relating to the possibility of articulation and the effect of complex implications. Apart from familial structures identified by Hirsch, the social conditions under which implicated subjects appear are lacking in their theorization. While Rothberg considers the functioning of the implicated subject as such, the moments in which implications are articulated requires refinement. Once articulated, the effect of complex implications on the articulation of excluded
20 histories – that is, those histories that are not taken up in the narrative of complex implication – has not been explored. This understanding is important, insofar as the presence of certain histories influences the formation of perpetratorship and victimhood to date. In reading Rutte’s speech as the articulation of a complex implication, I simultaneously theorize the contemporaneous effects it instigates on the articulation of excluded histories.
Memories of the Holocaust
In this section, I trace the development of the memory of the Holocaust in the Netherlands. The articulation of the Holocaust as a trauma that differs from the suffering of the nation only appeared gradually, after which it became increasingly integrated in national hegemonic memory. Within this process, I focus on the development of the National Holocaust Commemoration as a public ceremony. In order to contextualize Rutte’s apology at the 75th
anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, I also look at the various positions of the government towards its own involvement during the Second World War.
The hegemonic narrative concerning the memory of the Holocaust has witnessed multiple conceptions of perpetratorship and suffering. Shortly after the Second World War ended, a narrative ensued that focused on reconstructing a national self-image. In practice, it relied on a rhetoric that “depicted [The Netherlands] as a small country invaded by its giant neighbor, and [where] collaboration was portrayed as the appalling behavior of a small group that needed to be punished in order to purge society” (Duindam Signs 20). In other words, perpetratorship was solidified in a faction of open collaboration, absorbing the nation’s guilt. With the expulsion of this band from the national community, the image of national suffering remained. Foremost, this conception was embodied through an accentuation of the deceased partisans of the Dutch army and resistance movement. Within this narrative, the targeted approach of the Nazi apparatus was not addressed, so as to construct a sense of unified suffering
21 for which these armed forces had fought. In order to maintain this construction, the modes of implication that certain actors had in the suffering of others remained unarticulated. Works discussing the systemic affliction – most noticeably that of Abel Herzberg – still approached the issue as ‘externalized’ history, not belonging to the nation-state as such (Duindam Fragments 53). The suffering of specific communities was left out, despite their targeted deportation. For instance, the policies aimed at constructing a narrative through monuments and commemoration in public space virtually granted no space to commemorate Jewish victims, leaving the communities to fend for themselves on religious parameters (Duindam Fragments 50). This is also the case for National Holocaust Commemoration, whose basic principle was formed in 1952. Seven years after the liberation of Auschwitz, an international commemoration was held in Poland to commemorate the victims of Auschwitz-Birkenau. Here, urns were distributed that contained the material remains, functioning as a memory of those who were murdered. Upon their return, the Dutch Auschwitz-survivors who attended the international commemoration placed urn with material remains on the Oosterbegraafplaats (‘Eastern Cemetery’) (“Spiegelmonument”). On top of the urn, a tombstone placed that read “Nooit meer Auschwitz” (‘Never Again Auschwitz’), which subsequently became a site of commemoration that circumvented the lack of access to public space (“Spiegelmonument”).
The memory of the persecution of the Jews would gain momentum later on during the 1960s. Here, the suffering of the Jews was initially paralleled with that of the nation, maintaining a “memory discourse of unity and resistance” (Duindam Signs 20). In this vein, the suffering of the victims of the Holocaust was still paralled with that of the nation as a whole, leaving no discussion of grey areas or bystander trauma’s so as to reestablish and boost an emerging post-War national identity. The articulation of the Holocaust as a Jewish trauma was largely influenced by the Eichmann Trials, which included 112 testimonies given by survivors of the Holocaust (Franklin 89). Its influence also reached the Netherlands, where the Trials
22 sparked discussion that dealt with the more complex distribution of roles, including its “passive collaboration” (Duindam Fragments 94). Furthermore, in 1965 Minister Vrolijk called for a similar debate, asking the population to “scrutinize its own role during the war” (Duindam Fragments 94). Originally written by Loe de Jong, the speech was tuned down in its use of language, omitting “the phrase ‘passivity as cooperative guilt’” (Duindam Fragments 95). While not vexed on the specific role of the government, the speech nevertheless indicated a new sense of reflexivity. In other words, these instances show the emergence of a refined understanding of the positions that were held during the war – although an official recognition embedded in the hegemonic narrative would remain absent. In the meantime, the “Auschwitz Commemoration” at the Oosterbegraafplaats started to become an established part of the ceremonies dealing with the memories of the Second World War. As the site of commemoration became increasingly ill-equipped for the number of attendants, the tombstone was replaced with the Spiegelmonument (‘Mirror Monument’) in 1977 (“Spiegelmonument”). The monument was designed by Dutch artist Jan Wolkers and was inscribed with references to the perceived incomparable nature of the Holocaust. While not of Jewish descent himself, Wolker’s emotional investment in the events of the Holocaust show the more central position that the memory of the Holocaust attained. Eventually, in 1993, the monument was reinstalled at the Wertheimpark, so as to accommodate a larger crowd (“Spiegelmonument”).
In spite of the increasing integration in national hegemonic memory, the governmental position towards its own implication in the Holocaust has only been a recent development. For instance, the political party Partij Voor de Vrijheid requested the issuing of an official apology in 2012 (“Excuses”). The demand was supported by the Auschwitz Committee, the organ responsible for the organization of the National Holocaust Commemoration. Despite this support, Rutte – who was already active as prime minister - denied the request, claiming that there was no backing for such a gesture (“Excuses”). Rather, Rutte referred to an earlier
23 apology that had been stated in 2000, where the cabinet apologized for the ‘bleak reception’ (kille ontvangst) of the Jewish survivors after the Second World War (“Excuses”). The decision to apologize eight years later at the National Holocaust Commemoration is a significant turning point. Marking the 75th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, the apology for the manner
in which the government acted during the Second World War is the first recognition of its sort. Rutte’s speech marks the emergence of an implicated subject, whose assessment can assist in shedding light on theoretical gaps. Specifically, I pay attention to who is perceived to be a part of the complex implication as such.
When implicated subjects appear
In this final section, I analyze the two statements of Rutte’s speech outlined earlier this chapter. First, I explore the manner in which a complex implication is introduced through Rutte’s speech, where I look at the multiple positions that are cast to it. Moreover, looking at the subjectivities that are presented in the two segments, I assess the extensive reach of this complex implication. Finally, I look at the effect of these newly formed complex implications on the articulation of excluded histories.
Rutte’s apology comes paired with a new historical admittance articulated on behalf of the government. In shifting away from paralleled victimhood, Rutte repositions the government as having “fallen short as the guardians of justice and safety” during the Second World War. This grand expression should not be seen as an admission of guilt or active involvement; a testimony of perpetratorship. In this ambiguous stance, Rutte recasts the government as the implicated subject, one that “...is neither a victim nor a perpetrator, but rather a participant in histories and social formations that generate the positions of victim and perpetrator …” (Rothberg Implicated 1). In other words, this statement becomes a manner of coming to terms with the past in which the government narrative is not devoid of innocence, nor does it narrate
24 actively facilitating the persecution as such. It is, then, not a shift away from the narrative of occupation and national victimhood, but a refinement in which a self-perceived responsibility is left unfulfilled. Simultaneously, Rutte’s repositioning of the government as implicated subject is complemented new understanding of the past, one which is necessary for the confrontation of contemporary forms of discrimination. Commenting that “[if] now, today, we want to combat discrimination, anti-Semitism, we need to understand what happened back then”, Rutte produces a direct link between the manner in which we approach the past and the developments in contemporary society. Moreover, it is in this segment that the implication in the past is supplemented with an identified issue in the presence. In doing so, Rutte raises a complex implication in which multiple roles are occupied at the same time. In articulating the historic shortcomings of the government, Rutte simultaneously develops a synchronic position that calls for the combatting of discrimination and specifically Anti-Semitism. Indeed, the complex implication, here, is one that is created to address current issues, constituting a form of political memory. As Aleida Assmann points out, institutions and other actors that contribute to the articulation of hegemonic “do not ‘have’ a memory, [but rather] ‘make’ one” (Re-framing memory 42). It is through this creation, Assmann argues, that identities are constructed (Re-framing memory 43). In this case, the identity that is articulated is one that resonates on a national scale.
The construction of the identity attached to this complex implication can be located in the attribution of educational value in the present. Namely, it is in this arrangement that the complex implication comes to regard more than just the government. That is, in addressing the contemporary relevance, Rutte introduces a political “we” that diffuses into the population. Here, it becomes apparent that the apology stated is not one that adheres to the state in isolation, embodied in its various institutions, ministries or executive powers. Rather, in arguing that “we need to articulate this [history], because it is so huge, that if you realize this, I hope that people
25 will say that we cannot give anti-Semitism another chance”, the responsibility embedded by the state becomes one shared with its citizens. Rutte verbally compels the “people” to carry out this social obligation, aimed at preventing a possible recurrence. As such, the state’s complex implication becomes shared with its citizens, infusing the population with a symbolic responsibility to prevent the recurrence of the Holocaust. The account produced is one that reads “never again”, accentuating the unstable position that certain communities hold and the responsibility that the nation’s citizens carry in relation to it. Through the implicated subject, then, this integration into the hegemonic memory is simultaneously mobilized for purposes in the present. As such, the narrative that is produced through the introduction of the complex implication produces a “clear and invigorating message” (Assmann Re-framing memory 43). The complex implication does not emerge in a political vacuum, but is a tool used to shape the political agenda. At the same time, the dispersion of responsibility in the present carries a bilateral function. In calling for an identification with the state apparatus, the failure of the state during the Second World War is one that becomes a shared burden through this process of identification in the present. The identification with the “guardians of safety and justice” synchronously results in a recognition of this past shortcoming, so that Rutte’s speech initiates a relationship between the social obligation in the present and the perceived slight in the past. In this process, the implicated subject is not one that remains limited to the government as such. The “guardians of safety and justice” becomes an ahistorical responsibility carried out by the imagined community as a whole, while simultaneously recognizing the failure to do so in the past. In terms of the new articulation that is offered, it calls for a national solidarity on the basis of prevention - that which had not been achieved before.
Once in place, the complex implication stresses the importance of the memory of the Holocaust. While calling for identification on a national scale, its introduction can be seen to restrict the possibilities of multidirectionality for excluded histories as well. This reading is not
26 so much based upon an intentionalist fear of erasure and dilution of the Holocaust, but is rather vested in the mode of remembering. Here, the Holocaust is presented as the pinnacle of national memory that constrains the emergence of other narratives. Partially, this is achieved by accentuating the unique character of the Holocaust, so that “no word can encapsulate something so big and horrid as the Holocaust”. In a comparative sense, this reduces the valor of other memories. Moreover, it is in presenting the Holocaust education as a modern remedy that other memories cannot achieve this status. While other memories might be relevant in a cultural sense, they do not provide the answers to the current form of discrimination as Rutte posits. In this vein, the complex implication conjures a historical continuum that stresses the importance of the emerging hegemonic conception of the Holocaust, which it mobilizes for present purposes. The elements that are emphasized remain within the borders of the nation-state by focusing on the role of the Dutch government. In taking the Holocaust within the national context as shared anchorage, the actions and persecution of the population during this period is taken as a significant determinant for the present. The complex implication, emerging as a new collective, casts a stable past that not only requires identification in the present, but also in historical terms. Through centralizing the national context of the Holocaust, Rutte’s introduction of the complex implication severs the migratory ties that mark the population. The historical continuum that is conjured remains within the nation-state, neglecting “the impact of phenomena that break apart the borders of individual and group identity" (Rothberg Multidirectional Memory in Migratory Settings 125). The complex transnational landscape of memories is white-washed, amplifying only those memories that remain within the designated geographical space. As such, it fails to register the influx of new communities and their collective memories and frameworks through which the past is understood. That is, within the political narrative offered, there is no room for “fragmentary and diverse” narratives (Assmann Re-framing memory 43). The individual identities that find their memories located outside of
27 the nation, then, fail to be integrated in the group identity as such. The clear political message that emerges through the complex implication isolate migrated histories as individual cases that do not belong to the collective being of the nation.
Moreover, the centralization of the Holocaust can lead to the exclusion of migratory communities on another level as well. For instance, exploring the issues of memory and belonging in a German context, Rothberg and Yildiz consider the complexities of Turkish minorities in relation to German history. In their work, a paradox is identified concerning the relation these communities are expected to have to the history of the Holocaust. This double bind, as the authors explain, make it so that “migrants are simultaneously told to stay away from the Holocaust and then castigated as anti-Semitic for their alleged indifference to its remembrance” (36). This mechanism is especially significant in the case of Muslim minorities, or communities that are approached as such (Rothberg and Yildiz 36). Indeed, as Rothberg and Yildiz argue, the maintenance of a culturally homogenous memory is paradoxical insofar as it preserves a “notion of ethnicity” that “was one of the sources of those crimes” (35). In this reading, the complex implication might actually serve to provide the foundation for the events which it tries to prevent.
Conclusion
Rutte’s speech as the National Holocaust Commemoration is the first formal recognition of the government’s implication during the Second World War. The apology stated is significant, insofar as it has provided a ground on which to theorize the implicated subject further. In this chapter, I have argued that the implicated subject that appears in Rutte’s speech is one that is simultaneously mobilized for present purposes. It is a clear political narrative, that constructs a national identity. As such, Rutte introduces a complex implication that conjures the revised
28 memory of the Holocaust as an essential tool for combatting discrimination to date. Nevertheless, in the articulation of this mission, Rutte diffuses the responsibility into the national population. In a bilateral sense, the complex implication comes to concern the state’s citizen as well. Through this process, however, the national context of the Holocaust is introduced as the pinnacle of the national hegemonic memory, establishing a historical continuum in the process. As such, it functions to constrain the articulation of excluded histories.
29
Bodies worth remembering
In the run-up to the Commemoration of the Dead of 2017, an alternative commemoration was announced that was to commemorate the refugees who had perished on their way to Europe the year before. A combined effort of Rikko Voorberg, Matthijs Jasper and artist Tinkebell, the commemoration was intended to call attention to the conditions faces by the refugees. The proposed commemoration consisted of an installation of three thousand white crosses on Rembrandt Square, symbolizing the refugees who had perished during their journey to the Netherlands. As such, the planned commemoration provided a frame in which different subjects were introduced as those worth remembering. In adapting parts of the official Commemoration of the Dead, the commemoration simultaneously contained performative aspects that challenge the framing of the Commemoration of the Dead. The crosses were marked with individual dates and causes of death that related to the deceased refugees. Voorberg, who appeared as the spokesperson in several media outlets, framed the commemoration as a “moral appeal”, in which he asked whether the national population was “still willing to make sacrifices for those in that are in need now”9 (Pauw). The instigation
resulted in discussions surrounding the contemporary relevance of the Commemoration of the Dead. In some instances, this opposition was so severe that it resulted in the cancellation of the proposed commemoration. Nevertheless, both the intentions of Voorberg and the opposition his proposal received provide different understandings of the function of the commemoration and the subjects that should be included in the frame. Moreover, it is in these debates that the interaction between different frames can be observed. What happens when a hegemonic frame is confronted with an alternative frame? What arguments are used to ensure the maintenance of the frame in place?
30 In adapting the structure of the national commemoration, the proposal by Voorberg10
revealed the borders of its interpretative framework. Adapting parts of the existing frame of the Commemoration of the Dead, Voorberg’s proposal functions as a form of multidirectional memory. At the same time, the eventual cancellation of the commemoration shows the presence of barriers of multidirectionality as well. In what follows, segments of public discourse are analyzed to understand the interaction between different frames. This chapter proceeds as follows. First, I outline theoretical conceptions of the frame, paying attention to its intertwinement with bodies and mourning. Next, I trace the development of the Commemoration of the Dead, where I look at earlier criticisms of its framing. In this segment, I also consider Voorberg’s proposal in relation to earlier oppositions. In the final section, I analyze one televised debate that was broadcast two days before the commemoration. Here, I pay attention to the argumentation used to maintain the frame of the Commemoration of the Dead, and how these arguments position Voorberg’s proposal. Here, I argue that the degree of multidirectionality deployed by Voorberg fails to manifest itself in the public sphere. Rather, it is this more ‘aggressive’ capitalization on the Commemoration of the Dead that poses the frame introduced by Voorberg as a threat to the cultural integrity of the commemoration.
Framing the past
In this section, I outline the concept of the frame as it appears in two major theoretical texts. Both understandings of the frame are productive in considering the functioning of memory on a collective level. Moreover, the specific focus on the body and its possibility to be grieved is particularly relevant in the case of the Commemoration of the Dead. In commemorating a narrowly defined set of individuals in a particular fashion, both the Commemoration of the
10 While Jasper and Tinkebell were also involved in the initiation, I will subsequently refer to the proposal as
31 Dead and Voorberg’s proposed commemoration produce a certain frame of commemoration. It is through this theory that a more comprehensive approach towards the frame concerning the commemoration can be developed.
As one of the foundational texts of memory studies, the French sociologist Maurice Halbwachs explores the influence of social ties on the production of memories. For Halbwachs, participation in certain social groups result in the adaption of cadres sociaux, or ‘social frameworks’, in which collective memories are produced. Collective memories, here, are the “result, or sum, or combination of individual recollections of many members of the same society” (39). The bilateral relationship of collective memory and social frameworks operates insofar as “it is to the degree that our individual thought places itself in these frameworks and participates in this memory that is capable of the act of recollection” (38). In other words, individual recollection is not a process that occurs in isolation, but is influenced by one’s position in society. At the same time, it is through participation in the social frameworks that “a sense of our identity is perpetuated” (47). The social groups and corresponding frameworks we adhere to work to maintain a certain self-perception; a relation to a larger whole. Nevertheless, despite his lasting influence, Halbwachs has been criticized for his abstract conception of collective memory. Scholars such as Aleida Assmann have refined the notion of collective memory to consider more specific forms of memory in social contexts (see Assmann Re-framing Memory). Moreover, Halbwachs has been criticized for his collective approach, which leaves individual agency insufficiently addressed. For instance, in her study on Holocaust survivors Jean Améry and Martin Walser, Aleida Assmann concludes that not all memories are retrievable at all times11 (Two forms 133). In addition, the perceptions of both
11 Améry identifies a “dialectical process”, in which “the more ready the perpetrators are to forget their past,
the heavier it weighs on his shoulders…” (Two forms 124). With the disappearance of memories of the war in society, Améry takes on the duty of remembering. Moreover, Améry identifies a moral obligation that marks the remembering of these events. On the other hand, Walser argued for dealing with the guilt resulting from the war on a more individual level. As Assmann puts it, “[if] Améry pronounced his veto against the social
32 survivors differ, so that the concept of shared remembrance through collective frames is problematized. Indeed, Halbwachs’ conception of what constitutes the ‘individual’ in his work is ambiguous, insofar as relies heavily on the participation in solidified social groups. On the other hand, scholars such as Rigney still perceive an individual recollection that precedes the participation in social frameworks (15). In a similar vein, Bernbeck et. al contend that Halbwachs argument concerns the process of active commemoration, leaving ample space for individual memory (15). In his review of Halbwachs, Rothberg introduces a nuanced take that argues “while individual subjects are the necessary locus of the act of remembrance, those individuals are imbued with frameworks common to the collectives in which they live” (Multidirectional Memory: Remembering the Holocaust 15). Rothberg’s position is useful in the analysis of discourse, insofar as it allows for the social positioning of individual statements, while still reserving room for personal agency. Thus, while social frames influence individual recollection to a degree, it is not omnipotent as such.
Though not native to the field of memory studies, American philosopher Judith Butler supplements Halbwachs in considering the relationship between the body and the social frame. While Halbwachs rightly notes the influence that social groups have on the production of social frameworks, the power dynamics between different social groups remain unaddressed. Moreover, the necessary (bodily) qualifications to be included in a frame on a more collective level is unclear. Butler’s starting point concerns the possibility of grief relating to certain bodies, which she locates in the feasibility of recognizability (5). In line with Halbwachs, Butler considers the frame as a structure that depends on norms and values in place, where Butler emphasizes the political influence at play. For Butler, the frame functions as a regulating force in the organization of knowledge. This relationship between the frame and what can be
milieu of a general forgetting, Walser, thirty years later, pronounced his veto against a milieu of intensive public memorialization” (Two Forms 128).
33 known, Butler argues, can be understood as “intelligibility, [or the] general historical schema or schemas that establish domains of the knowable” (6, emphasis in the original). This relation also extends to the body, as it not only serves to “[organize] our visual experience”, but also produces a “specific [ontology] of the subject” (3). In other words, the frame regulates the understanding of the subject, which determines the possibility of recognition. Moreover, Butler locates the presence of these frames in the formation of policies that regulate the movement of bodies. In this move, Butler provides a critical incision that deals with the racial constructions that are maintained through these frames. Nevertheless, the limits of Butler’s argument appear in its application to the field of memory studies. Indeed, the frame in Butler’s text is taken more in its literal sense, where a reliance on media studies is apparent. Nevertheless, the frame of social memory, central to both the creation and interpretation of different media, remains unaddressed. As such, an exploration of Butler’s theory in the field of memory studies can serve to identify the framing and ‘grievability’ of bodies in hegemonic memory. In addition, as is the case with Halbwachs, there is no consideration of a multiplicity of frames; how different frames interact with each other. This is significant, as it is in the failure to reproduce itself that the frame appears in its entirety (Butler 24).
Juxtaposing Halbwachs and Butler thus serves to consider the position of the body in social frames of memory. Moreover, what remains unaddressed in these texts are the factors that shape the interaction between different frames in the field of memory studies. What if an established frame is challenged through the introduction of a different frame? Moreover, how is the introduction of a different ontological subject negotiated through this confrontation? The responses that negate the introduction of a new frame are insightful, insofar as they outline the incongruity established framework. Voorberg’s proposal introduces a frame that challenges the established frame of the National Commemoration of the Dead. In what follows, I analyze
34 segments of public discourse that surrounded the proposed commemoration and its relation to the national commemoration.
Bodies worth commemorating
In this section, I outline the development of the Commemoration of the Dead since its instigation after the Second World War. Particularly, I focus on earlier criticisms surrounding the framing of the commemorated individuals. Throughout the years, several definitions have been articulated concerning the purpose of the commemoration. Nevertheless, despite its several alterations in the definition of the commemoration, the Second World War has remained the point of anchorage. In the last part, I analyze Voorberg’s proposal in relation to earlier criticisms, outlining the manners in which it differs from earlier opposition.
Following the end of the Second World War, the manners in which recent events were to be commemorated were not yet institutionalized. Because of this, grassroots initiatives emerged as well. In this ritualistic and ceremonial vacuum, Jan Drop instigated such a commemoration protocol. Drop, who was active as a resistance fighter during the Second World War himself, sought a commemoration that honored those who had fallen during the war. As such, he established the Commissie Nationale Herdenking 1940–1945, which subsequently produced a protocol for a scripted commemoration that was to be carried out in unison throughout the nation (van Ooijen & Raaijmakers 466). Amongst the drafted guidelines, two central elements involved the apolitical character and the presence of a two-minute-long moment of silence12. Central to the scheme was the liberty that allowed for local narratives to
emerge, keeping in line with an overarching structure (Duindam 85). The protocol was posted to different municipalities, who adapted it with the idea that these were state-sanctioned
12 While the two minutes of silence are still widely practiced, the commemoration has become increasingly
35 guidelines (Duindam 85). On the 4th of May 1946, its first appearance resulted in a total of 600 local ceremonies (Duindam 85). Due to its success, in 1947 the committee was requested to produce an official procedure that was to be implemented throughout the country, turning the grassroots initiative into a hegemonic form of memory (van Ooijen & Raaijmakers 466). As such, the commemoration on the 4th of May came to signify “the heroic death of resistance fighters and Dutch and allied soldiers” (van Ooijen and Raaijmakers 467).
In this vein, the National Commemoration of the Dead provides a social frame in which certain bodies are commemorated. This frame is captured in the memorandum, where the membership of those who are commemorated is explicated. The heroism embodied by those commemorated suggests that these bodies are more memorable than others, deserved of a commemoration of national status. Indeed, it is because of the heroic associations of the frame that it has been repeatedly been confronted with alternative conceptions. The most notable protest occurred in 1952, when the Veteranen Legioen Nederland (Dutch Veteran Legion, VLN) started lobbying for the inclusion of those soldiers who had fallen in in the wars of the Dutch-Indies, New Guinea and Korea since the Second World War (van Ooijen and Raaijmakers 470). As part of their protest, the VLN organized an alternative commemoration on the 27th of December, insisting on the “exclusive character” of the National Commemoration
of the Dead (van Ooijen and Raaijmakers 470). In 1961, the VLN succeeded in their efforts, so that the frame was widened to include their comrades as well. Later, the memorandum was altered to include all “war situations [and] peacekeeping operations since the outbreak of the Second World War” (Memorandum). In 2015, the memorandum was altered to limit the commemoration of the deceased to those in possession of Dutch nationality (Memorandum). This version of the memorandum – which was also in place during Voorberg’s proposal in 2017 – emphasizes the national character of the commemoration that is performed each year.
