Rethinking the Morality of Memory
Susan Neiman’s new work, Call It Evil, confronts the ways societies navigate their darkest histories. She argues that the refusal to acknowledge past atrocities prevents a true understanding of national identity. Germany serves as her primary case study, given its post-war efforts to institutionalize remembrance of the Holocaust. Neiman examines how this public reckoning compares to the silence often found in other Western nations. She finds that the German experience is not a perfect model but a necessary point of comparison.
Her analysis moves beyond simple guilt to look at how history affects current policy. She notes that the way a country remembers its past dictates its legislative priorities in the present day. For Neiman, the failure to address historical wrongs creates a vacuum that allows harmful political narratives to take root. This is not just a historical debate. It is a matter of immediate democratic survival for states that claim to value human rights.
The Architecture of National Silence
Neiman identifies a distinct pattern in how nations shield themselves from uncomfortable truths. She observes that institutions often prioritize national cohesion over historical accuracy. This protective instinct creates a distorted view of the past, where trauma is minimized to maintain a comfortable status quo. By suppressing these narratives, governments leave the next generation without the tools to identify authoritarian trends.
She points to specific legislative gaps in the United States and elsewhere. While monuments are often contested, the deeper work of educational reform and systemic reparation remains stalled. Neiman suggests that the desire to avoid discomfort is a bipartisan failure. It transcends party lines and creates a shared blind spot in the political discourse of the modern West.
Global Implications of Historical Amnesia
What happens when a country refuses to reckon with its history? Neiman argues that such states become intellectually dishonest. They lose the ability to argue for universal human rights because their own foundation is built on historical omissions. This hypocrisy makes it difficult for these nations to hold moral authority in international relations. When a state cannot face its own past, it cannot effectively challenge oppression in the present.
She looks closely at the rise of nationalist movements that capitalize on this forgotten history. By framing the past as a time of unblemished glory, these groups gain traction among voters who feel alienated from their own cultural heritage. Neiman warns that this is a dangerous turn. It replaces critical inquiry with myth-making, which rarely ends well for those outside the majority group.
Moving Toward an Honest Future
Neiman concludes that acknowledging evil is not a task with an end date. It is a persistent requirement for a functioning society. She calls for a shift in how we approach history in schools and public squares. This means moving away from celebratory history toward a more grounded, sometimes painful examination of institutional failures. The goal is not to shame the present, but to ensure that the mistakes of the past are not repeated.
Still, there is no guarantee that such efforts will be welcomed. The resistance to rewriting textbooks or removing statues indicates how deeply these myths are held. Neiman recognizes that the push for honesty faces massive opposition. Her message is clear: if we avoid the cost of honesty now, we will pay a much higher price in the future when the past returns to haunt our democracy.