In the book written by Lea David (2020) we take part in a discussion about memory and how human rights can be related to the key concept of the book – moral remembrance. Described as a proper way of remembering, this set of standardised norms is promoted through human rights infrastructures at the world polity level. Moral remembrance highlights the need to ‘face the past’, the ‘duty to remember’ and the ‘justice for victims’ – and all have their own historical background that needs to be understood, conceptualised, and contextualised (p. 8). Previously in this course, we have read and talked about the effects of normative ways of remembering and how they can take different forms in different cultures (Yea 2002., Silvén, 2018., Jung, 2009., Paxson, 1998. etc). Is there really one right way one should remember?
In this book, we get to explore how memory is tied to politics, human rights, and how different experiences of memorialisation produce a long list of premises that in the long run enforce divisions on the local levels. David mentions a global trend where not only individuals but also entire communities and societies need to deal with their troubled past. In this process, the notion of memorialisation has become a critical element in current struggles for human rights and democracy (p 7). In this argument, human rights operate through the assumption that a proper memorialisation of a past conflict is vital for both democracy and human rights. By extending the invitation to ensure everyone’s rights, equal treatment must exist in all discussions.
Take the example of Jung (2009), the aboriginal people in Canada who was victimised (in many ways) by the Canadian state in the 1900th century, never took any part in the national discussion. No one asked about their rights when being subjected to forced assimilation and the responsibility falls on the state which follows it even today. Moral remembrance has forced the recognition of horrible events such as these, for someone to take responsibility, recognise the issue, and enforce justice for the victims. In Jung’s article, the state engages in the process that involves these steps but does so by little to no extent. The victims are left voiceless once again when the state leaves the conversation after making a public apology. The term transitional justice was mentioned by the state and gave the Indian people hope that they finally would be recognised by a society where they also could belong. However, this was not the experience of the victimised people and the concept of moral remembrance was not efficient in this case.
David means that if applied properly, memorialisation remembrance could strengthen the categories of nation and ethnicity. However, this can fall short if one recurring assumption when applying polity agendas tackling these problematics centres around how human rights norms must trump cultural norms and heritage. Hence, the human rights memorialisation agenda is always understood (at least partially) as oppressive, coercive, and a threat to a seemingly homogenous entity of the nation (p. 15). This way, new social inequalities could emerge and the concept of ideal victimisation becomes relevant in the direct exclusion of minority groups.
Furthermore, David asks the questions of how a troubled past affects social (collective) memory. In this discussion, she explores the ways in which face-to-face encounters can spread human rights ideologies influencing people into moral actions in the long run. The choice of facing the past may not have an efficient result when applied to entire communities. (p. 10) This points to the differences in contextualisation and experiences of past conflicts. A one-size-fits-all perspective will not be suitable for every community, because everyone remembers differently. This leaves me with questions about whether the state really can guarantee that victims of greater conflicts and discrimination will be reciprocated? Is it, for instance, possible to apply national polity systems that will include all groups in a multicultural country such as Sweden?
Lea David (2020) The past can’t heal us: The dangers of mandating memory in the name of human rights. Cambridge university press.