Engaging Critically with and Learning from the Past

First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist.

Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

—Martin Niemöller

After World War II and the horrors of the Holocaust, Germany created a neologism to describe the country's attempts to deal and engage critically with its past – Vergangenheitsbewältigung. A complicated word with connotations of mastery and with no direct translation into English, it was used somewhat ironically when first coined, in opposition to the real work of Vergangenheitsaufarbeitung (working through the past).¹ What does it mean to know and learn from the past? Is the past ever really behind us? And how can we use it to live a better life today? How do we continue to confront intersecting, implicated, difficult histories in meaningful and thoughtful ways? If we as educators are to face the past in all its complexities, how best do we do that? And if we see it only as the past – distinct from today – how relevant can it be?

Focused on Holocaust education, this issue of the Journal of Museum Education frames the major debates around how we deal with this dark moment in history through the lens of our work in the museum. It asks how this moment of unimaginable hatred can remain relevant today, particularly in the context of an increasing awareness of other atrocities in our shared history. At the heart of this issue lies the tension between the specific horrors of the Holocaust – particularly its virulent antisemitism and the genocide of the Jews – and the universal lessons that we can learn from it. To readers outside of the German-speaking world, the debates about the singularity of the Holocaust may be somewhat new. But within Germany and Austria, where the long shadow of this history continues to shape public discourse and identity, these debates have a long, complicated history and have become increasingly central to national identity and the relationship to the past. As Mirjam Brusius writes, “the question of who saw themselves as victims … is not straightforward. German perpetrators … initially saw themselves as victims of the war … presenting themselves as oppressed by a system of Nazi rule.”² In the post-war period, a divided Germany prioritized different groups in their victimhood – communists in the German Democratic Republic (GDR) – and later other groups victimized by the Nazis rightly claimed space in the conversation, from Sinti and Roma, to disabled people, to members of the LGBTQI+ community.

Appearing in 2021, Dirk Moses’ essay, The German Catechism, proved a flash point for these debates.³ In his essay, Moses argued that the Holocaust's uniqueness provides the moral foundation of official German identity, sparking a debate about Opferkonkurrenz (hierarchy of victimhood) and competitive victimhood. Critical of such models, Moses's article ignited a media storm about Germany's relationship to the Holocaust and colonialism. And the question of the extent to which the Holocaust should play a singular role in the memory culture of Germany (and to a lesser extent Austria), at the possible expense of other difficult histories, came to dominate the media landscape for months in the wake of Moses’ essay. Within this debate, the historian Michael Rothberg's Multi-Dimensional Memory argues for considering the Holocaust in relation to other forms of hatred and oppression, rather than framing it as zero sum game of victimhood.⁴ Others, most famously Natan Sznaider and Saul Friedländer, while not supporting Opferkonkurenz, have suggested the Holocaust is better understood in its own specificity.⁵ Within this contested landscape at the intersection of antisemitism and colonial power structures educators must find a productive space to engage audiences in meaningful ways.

In the context of Austria, where I live and work, these debates are not simply academic discussions, removed from our work in the museum. After all, my colleagues and I move through a city scared by the history of National Socialism but also influenced by histories of other forms of racism and prejudice that continue today. And as we discuss this history and its embeddedness in our city, we welcome diverse visitors, many of whom are themselves victims of structures of othering and prejudice today. How do we address the reality of moving through and living in a city scarred by the terrors of the Shoah? And how do we discuss the Holocaust with, for example, Turkish Austrians who are commonly discriminated against now? How can we avoid falling into Opferkonkurrenz while acknowledging both the particulars of the Nazi terror and the connections to other forms of hate, othering, and bias in the past and the present?

The famous quotation above from Martin Niemöller reminds us that valuing the life of others and challenging hatred is always relevant to us, that we should – as Karin Schneider writes in her essay in this issue – strive to “garner an understanding of reciprocal connections and to use them for the purpose of solidarity.” The articles collected here offer models of thought and action for understanding the specifics of the Holocaust and its larger embeddedness in histories (and present realities) of hatred. Conceived of over two years ago, the issue is being published in a new political landscape, a post-October 7 world in which debates have become increasingly polarized. This issue of the Journal of Museum Education stands as testament to the fact that our work discussing and critically engaging with the past in museums has never been more relevant, important, and essential. Now more than ever it is our responsibility to open up true dialogue, to question assumptions about history, and to engage with the public in difficult and challenging discussions about the complexities of history and structures of hatred.

Rather than shy away from a potentially controversial topic at this moment of heightened tensions, I am proud that this board and our journal have chosen to publish it, recognizing that the study of antisemitism and the Holocaust is not in opposition to a concern for others, but rather a way to study our past in the hopes that our future may be a more humane and caring one. I hope that this issue offers readers a chance to think critically about how we deal with difficult pasts and how we balance honoring the suffering of specific groups while also looking for broader connections and structures of hatred across time and space. Moreover, in a moment of deeply divided political and social thinking, I hope this can remind us that the recognition of one group's suffering need not and cannot blind us to that of others. For as Niemöller writes, if we do not stand up for others, who will stand up for us?

Additional information

Notes on contributors

Nathaniel Prottas

Nathaniel Prottas has worked in museum education for over 15 years, beginning as a lecturer at the Cloisters in New York. Since 2017 he has been the Director of Education at the Wien Museum (the City Museum of Vienna) in Austria. Nathaniel holds Ph.D. in art history from the University of Pennsylvania, as well as an MA in the same subject from University College, London. He has taught both museum education and museum studies as a visiting professor at The Central European University (Austria), The Technical University of Dortmund (Germany), Tulane University (Ferrara, Italy), Masaryk University (Czech Republic), and the University of Vienna (Austria). His publications have appeared in the Journal of Aesthetic Education, Museum Worlds, and most recently in the forthcoming volume, A New Role for Museum Educators: Purpose, Approach and Mindset, edited by Elizabeth Wood.

Notes

1 On complexity of the term, see Mirjam Sarah Brusius, “Introduction,” 3.

2 Brusius, “Introduction,” 4.

3 Dirk Moses, “The German Catechism.”

4 Rothberg, Multidirectional Memory. Originally published in 2009, the German translation appeared in 2021, subsequently receiving huge attention in the German media.

5 Sznaider, Fluchtpunkte der Erinnerung.