History is being rewritten in several countries
Professor Berber Bevernage: ‘A culture of remembrance is an attractive target for politicians who want to polarize’

© Camilo del Cerro (CC BY-SA 4.0)

© Camilo del Cerro (CC BY-SA 4.0)
DATUM AANPASSEN!
A dictatorship always leaves deep wounds. To heal them, memory culture and transitional justice are crucial elements. In an increasing number of countries, the memory of the horror is being traded today for a rewritten history in which uncomfortable truths are replaced by pride in the homeland.
This article was translated from Dutch by kompreno, which provides high-quality, distraction-free journalism in five languages. Partner of the European Press Prize, kompreno curates top stories from 30+ sources across 15 European countries. Join here to support independent journalism.
In the United States, President Trump recently demanded that more than 20 museums present a more positive picture of US history. If they do not, they risk losing their subsidies. In Russia, meanwhile, Stalin’s crimes are durably put into perspective. Here and there, new images of the former Soviet dictator even emerge. And finally, in Israel, the Netanyahu government is constantly reshaping history to erase the existence of Palestine.
The examples of autocratic leaders making a mockery of history for their own gain are numerous. In some countries, this calls into question the already fragile process of transitional justice. Berber Bevernage is professor of Historical Theory in the Department of History at the University of Ghent. He has an in-depth knowledge of transitional justice in Argentina, where the Milei government also wants to rewrite the past these days.
‘Transitional justice is the collective term for extralegal or ostensible judicial mechanisms designed to account for human rights violations committed by a previous regime, in situations where traditional criminal law does not suffice, or is even considered counterproductive, to make the transition to democracy successful’, Bevernage teaches.
Argentina, however, was a pioneer in this process. President Raúl Alfonsín (1983-1989) created the National Commission on the Disappearance of Persons, CONADEP, there in 1983. By investigating and publicly reporting on the facts, those responsible and the victims of the military dictatorship (1976-1983), this truth commission not only provided crucial information for the criminal trial of a small group of junta leaders, but also laid the foundations for a broader culture of remembrance.
This culture of remembrance took shape in museums, cultural centres, memorial sites, formative materials and in a plethora of documentation. A lot of countries have since gone through such a process: South Africa after the abolition of apartheid, Cambodia, Rwanda, Brazil, Chile, El Salvador, Guatemala, Germany, Spain and Northern Ireland.
But never is this a guarantee that outrage at evil retains its power or that evil does not return in a new guise. Even if societies have agreed: ‘Never this again’.
In Brazil, Jair Bolsonaro, who glorified dictatorship, came to power. El Salvador got Nayib Bukele. In Italy, with Giorgia Meloni’s victory, the timidity of bringing a party with ties to Mussolini back to power fell away. In Germany, the far-right AfD struggled to be kept from power, although that party had received additional backing from Elon Musk. The far-right, which likes to joke about the horror of the Holocaust, was an honoured guest at a conference on fighting anti-Semitism in Jerusalem last week, a slap in the face to numerous Jewish organisations.
Fragile balance of power
What makes the work of truth commissions and the whole culture of remembrance so fragile?
Berber Bevernage: ‘Internationally, we notice a growing scepticism towards remembrance initiatives. The idea that moral remembrance, or moral remembering, can put up a dam against authoritarian leaders taking office seems to be waning. This vulnerability has partly to do with context. Transitional justice is often set up in circumstances where the balance of power is extremely fragile. This was certainly the case in Argentina. People there speak of the "civil-military dictatorship" because part of society supported the dictatorship. The military withdrew, but not without giving itself amnesty first.’
Argentine former president Raúl Alfonsín withdrew that amnesty, didn’t he?
Berber Bevernage: ‘Yes, but only after issuing two important laws. When the Punto Final law came into force in December 1986, prosecutions could no longer take place. With the Obediencia Debida law, soldiers who only carried out orders, especially juveniles, went free. Only senior officers were prosecuted.’
‘President Carlos Menem (1989-1999; ed.) again wiped the sponge over the convictions, but under the government of Nestor Kirchner (2003-2007; ed.) the process was fully resumed. This was done with broad support to the memorial bodies like the Mothers and Grandmothers of the Plaza de Mayo, to human rights organisations and through the recognition of memorial sites.’
‘But even this full government support is delicate, because when such a process is too close to the ruling political power, the organisations involved become associated with it and the whole process can be dismissed as leftist.’

Berber Bevernage: ‘It is important that civil society networks continue to spread the message to ensure justice is done and to rebuild democratic foundations.’
© Berber Bevernage
Contradictions of transitional justice
Consequently, this dependence also makes organisations vulnerable?
Berber Bevernage: ‘That’s right. It is one of the contradictions of transitional justice. The process is initiated by NGOs and CSOs, but they often remain dependent on the state for logistical and financial support. Moreover, these groups also seek recognition from the state, which is at the same time the perpetrator. This strained relationship makes the process vulnerable in the event of regime change.’
Yet the link with the state is necessary?
Berber Bevernage: ‘You cannot do without it. Transitional justice is not only about punishing the perpetrators, but also about restoring trust between the state and its citizens. With state terror, as a citizen you experience ultimate powerlessness when the government does not recognise your rights. That trust must be restored in the long run. If a politician violates that trust, the state again proves untrustworthy.’
‘Countries with such a complex balance of power are also often very polarised and have low trust in political systems. This makes it very attractive for authoritarian or populist leaders to play on old fault lines. A wrong photo or gesture can create a storm of outrage.’
Explain.
Berber Bevernage: ‘It often plays on resentment, on feelings of wounded pride or of hurt patriotism. In a recent past in Poland, the National Remembrance Institute was completely taken over by the right-wing PiS (Law and Justice; ed.). In the process, all sorts of revisionist stories began to circulate about how Poland was never involved in the Holocaust. It was very clear that the pride of the nation should not be violated.’
‘Populist politicians like to play on such old fault lines because there are quite a lot of people who still adhere to this provocative streak. The passage of time and generational change also dilutes the outrage about it. Or the past is seen as a burden that people would rather not carry around. The future is more important, it is then called.’
Patriotism and honour is one thing. Isn’t the imposition of a certain economic model often the underlying motive?
Berber Bevernage: ‘That was certainly the case in Argentina, but also in Chile and Brazil. The military dictatorships there organised an economic neoliberal model. The military saw itself as the pioneer of a modernisation in which society was reorganised by combating trade unions and political dissidents. Very many of the victims were trade union militants.’
Painful Congress committee
Are there any lessons for that transitional justice based on today’s decline in moral outrage?
Berber Bevernage: ‘It is important that the civil society networks continue to spread the message to bring justice and rebuild the democratic foundations. Moreover, several aspects are important in that process. A lot of mechanisms of memory politics or transitional justice are largely based on what some thinkers call its "expressive dimension", its symbolic meaning and substantive awareness. It is about more than acknowledging facts, but also about what is expressed in that process. There is also a difference here between knowledge and acknowledgement.’
How do you mean?
Berber Bevernage: ‘Acknowledgement is, for example, when knowledge is officially recorded by a state in school textbooks and official reports. It’s about the expressive power of that recognition and for a lot of people it is very important. In the Congress Committee, for example, politicians couldn’t get around to giving that official recognition, so you have to decide that it doesn’t matter enough to us. That’s very painful. And there again you see that fragility. Because at the end of the day, there are a lot of people in Belgium who do support it, but still this could not lead to an official acknowledgement of responsibility for the abuses.’
‘Also, offering a political apology is often seen as something futile. It is not if the government turns that gesture into action and links those apologies to a remembrance programme, for example. That is part of the process of rebuilding trust. It is that expressive dimension, the substantive meaning, that makes transitional justice so sensitive. When a new politician breaks from restoring trust, the idea that the state is untrustworthy resurfaces. Such a process occurs in a fragile balance of power that can always tilt to the other side.’
It is never acquired, you say?
Berber Bevernage: ‘Exactly. It has to be constantly reaffirmed and secured. And then you bump into another paradox. Because so much is invested in it, and so much symbolic importance is attached to it, that memory becomes all the more attractive to politicians who want to polarize. But alongside that fragility, insights have been gained and networks built that cannot be completely undone. Stories and techniques have been built up on how to remember, but when the context changes, we have to reinvent them each time.’
This article was translated from Dutch by kompreno, which provides high-quality, distraction-free journalism in five languages. Partner of the European Press Prize, kompreno curates top stories from 30+ sources across 15 European countries. Join here to support independent journalism.
The translation is AI-assisted. The original article remains the final version. Despite our efforts to ensure accuracy, some nuances of the original text may not be fully reproduced.
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