Experiences that take place in virtual reality (VR) become part of users’ autobiographical memory. As memories can impact users’ self-perception, personal beliefs, and social interactions, storyliving in VR narratives can be used to manipulate memory and mould users’ self according to the preferences of the VR narrative creators. Poland's Ministry of Culture and National Heritage has, in recent years, generously invested in the production of VR films that depict events from the Polish historical canon. VR is a spatial technology that positions users ‘inside’ a virtual storyworld and leverages users’ sense of body position and movement to enhance memory and a sense of presence. Three dimensions of presence – self, social, and spatial – are relevant to understanding the role of VR in the politics of memory. The article interrogates a recent Polish VR production, Wiktoria 1920 (2020, dir. Tomasz Dobosz), and argues that VR representations exploit a sense of presence to shape users’ memory, perspective, and emotions in relation to the past.

Before the 1915 Genocide of Ottoman Armenians, the region of Van, in contemporary southeastern Turkey, held hundreds of active Armenian churches and monasteries. After the destruction of the Armenian community, these ruined structures took on new afterlives as they became part of the evolving environments and communities around them. These ruined spaces play a role in the everyday lives of the people who live among them and shape their historical understandings and relationships with the local history and geography. I interrogate the afterlives of one abandoned monastery and examine how local Kurds imagine, narrate, and enact the politics of the past and the present through that space of material ruin. I demonstrate how the history of the Armenian Genocide and ongoing state violence against the Kurdish community are intricately linked, highlight the continuation of violence over the past century, and deconstruct notions of ahistorical victims and perpetrators. This article builds on a critical approach to ruins as it traces how histories of destruction and spaces of material ruin are revisited and reinterpreted by those whose lives continue to be shaped by processes of ruination. It demonstrates how ruins created through violent histories become spaces for articulating alternative senses of history and crafting possible futures.

This article explores the political and discursive framing of the emerging project Holocaust Museum of Greece (HMG) based in Thessaloniki (announced in 2013). As an “in situ” Holocaust museum, the HMG could represent an important step toward recognizing Jewish suffering in a country where—compared with the rest of Europe—unprecedentedly high levels of antisemitic attitudes have been recorded over the past decade. Supported by a qualitative media analysis and supplemented with data from our online survey, we explore how HMG stakeholders and potential local visitors reflect on the project. Occurring amid contemporary endeavors in Holocaust commemoration and Greek-German reconciliation, we connect it with their persistence in combating far-right tendencies and antisemitism. Specifically, we investigate whose memory HMG stakeholders aim to display, how they reflect on dominant Greek historical narratives and whether they express a clear memory commitment and a genuine effort to produce a more integrated historical interpretation of the Holocaust in Greece.

The article discusses Pausanias’ obscure statement (1.26.3) that the early Hellenistic Athenian general Olympiodoros ‘recovered the Piraeus and Mounychia’. By understanding the feat as an episode within the wider context of the Athenian stasis of 295 between the ‘tyrant’ Lachares and Olympiodoros’ democratic resistance, the article shows that the narrative of the enterprise (most likely based on an honorific decree) aimed to i) establish a parallel between Olympiodoros and the illustrious democratic recovery by Thrasyboulos, ii) rehabilitate Olympiodoros as a democratic hero after his involvement in the oligarchic years of the second regime of Demetrios Poliorketes in Athens, and iii) serve as a call to action to recover the Piraeus, which was under Macedonian control when the honours were bestowed.

Scholars of nationalism knew about the role of memory and forgetting in nation building long before the contemporary boom of memory studies. Still, they can learn a lot from this relatively new research field. This article offers an overview of the literature on the politics of memory, focusing on different patterns of dealing with a dark past of genocides, civil wars, and political repressions, on the one hand, and on the observations derived from the recent so-called “memory wars” in Europe, on the other. Both issues elucidate a persistent role of nationalism in the contemporary world.

The article compares the post-Euromaidan Ukrainian politics in the domains of memory and language, two prominent aspects of the politics of identity that have been sites of controversy since the early years of independence. It examines the government’s behavior in the two domains, taking into account constraints presented by opposition parties, civil society, foreign states and international organizations, and the perceived preferences of the population. In both cases, the government must reconcile the active minority’s call for a radical break with the imperial legacy and the majority’s preference for the preservation of the accustomed environment. However, the Ukrainian leadership chose very different courses for the two domains. While pursuing a rather radical nationalist agenda with regard to memory, they largely refrained from a resolute promotion of the Ukrainian language. This difference does not reflect popular preferences and rather can be explained by politicians’ misperception of what the population wants, as well as their apprehension of policies that would radically change the country’s linguistic landscape and thus their own everyday life.

Remembrance of war and conflict exposes the intricate interweaving of cultural memory and identity. Nations commemorate war to link narratives of the past with the present. This linking creates shared national narratives that temporally reinforce identities across the geography of the nation and among diverse citizenry. In this paper, the authors turn their attention towards the experiential and place-based concerns of the politics of memory within the context of war. It is argued that through attentiveness to individual experience we can better understand how cultural memory is enveloped into constructions of identity and critique such constructions alongside official narratives.

The Romanian Academy (and much of the country's historical establishment) is packed with Holocaust deniers and trivializers, many of whom indulge in Holocaust obfuscation against the background of the post-Communist “competitive martyrdom” between the victims of the Holocaust and the Gulag. Quite a few of these deniers and trivializers are also former secret police informers. On closer examination, however, it turns out that explaining the reluctance to face the country's “dark past” as being the independent variable resultant of the post “Romanianization” of the Communist Party and its Securitate is a partial explanation at best. A substantially more convincing one might be provided by scrutinizing the phenomenon as the product of post-mnemonic cultural traumas.