How do we explain consistencies in discourses about the past that transcend the different interests and experiences of their contributors? This paper explores the the problem of cultural transmission as it appears in Sigmund Freud's Moses and Monotheism, in which Freud claims that that the residues of repressed pasts can be preserved in the life of the collectivity through means other than explicit transmission or even learning processes of imitation and repetition. These ciphered transits of collective memory pose the greatest challenge for subsequent theorists influenced by Freud, most importantly the German Egyptologist Jan Assmann, whose reformulation of Freud's account as a theory of "cultural memory" the paper outlines and compares to elements in the work of Maurice Halbwachs, the founding father of contemporary work on collective memory.

Human memory in the wild often involves multiple forms of remembering at once, as habitual, affective, personal, factual, shared, and institutional memories operate at once within and across individuals and small groups. The interdisciplinary study of the ways in which history animates dynamical systems at many different timescales requires a multidimensional framework in which to analyse a broad range of social memory phenomena. Certain features of personal memory – its development, its constructive nature, and its role in temporally extended agency – make it apt for various forms of integration into larger socio-cognitive systems. Drawing on ideas from psychology, distributed cognition, and social theory, this paper aims to make conceptual space for a naturalistic ontology of collective memory.

“Collective memory” is an umbrella term for different formats of memory. Interactive and social memory are both formats that are embodied, grounded in lived experience that vanish with their carriers. The manifestations of political and cultural memory, on the other hand, are grounded on the more durable carriers of external symbols and representations and can be re-embodied and transmitted from one generation to another. The relation between “history” and “memory” has itself a history that has evolved over time, passing through three stages: 1) the identity between history and memory, 2) the polarization between history and memory, and 3) the interaction between history and memory. Where history and memory are polarized, the historian assumes an intellectual and ethical function and concentrates on the lacunae of national memory thereby creating a countermemory. However, that there are certain contexts in which history and memory are also conflated in democratic nation states. If we look at the sector of public historical education we can observe a similar self-enforcing relationship between history, memory, identity, and power. In this context, history becomes the stuff of which political memory, identity, and myth is made of.

Forms of participation in collective memory differ widely between informal social memory and the more organized format of political memory. Participation in social memory is always varied because it is based on lived experience and linked to autobiographical memory, while collective participation in national memory, in both totalitarian and democratic states, on effective symbols and rites that enhance emotions of empathy and identification. In the discourse of memory research. the term “myth” is used to distinguish between the object of historical knowledge on the one hand and collectively remembered events on the other. Myth in this sense of “collectively remembered history” is meant as a neutral description. Over the years, a change in style of history textbooks can be observed, which may be characterized by the move from monumental to selfcritical narratives and from isolationist narratives to those that connect to others in a transnational and global perspectives. Criteria are emerging for a critical evaluation of national narratives and political memory.

The 1968 Monday Holiday Bill moved George Washington’s Birthday from February 22 to the third Monday in February. During the late 1970s and 1980s, however, Presidents’ Day emerged spontaneously, replacing Washington’s Birthday, and establishing itself in school curricula and business holiday calendars. Because Presidents’ Day has no definite content and reflects public preference, a new perspective on holiday commemoration is needed to understand it. Neither the conflict model of holidays, which stresses the manipulation of the masses by elites, nor the commitment model of holidays, which stresses elites and masses sharing the same values, account for Presidents’ Day’s distinguishing features. Presidents’ Day is an instance of abortive commemoration, deliberately designed to combine individual vacations with national holidays. Presidents’ Day articulates the de-centering of tradition, waning of affect, confusion, and fragmentation of late twentieth-century American culture.

The appearance of digital photography in the late twentieth century raised a significant challenge to the most powerful idea attached to photography in the nineteenth and most of the twentieth centuries, that it was a kind of memory and hence the source of reliable historical data. Traditional or analogue photographs were assumed to be reliable records of the past simply by virtue of being photographs, the products of a physical process governed by laws of optics and chemistry. The photograph was taken on the word of science and on faith as a reflex of a determinate process. With its ability to generate images and imagery from within itself, the programs it draws upon, digital photography erodes confidence that its images are actual memories. A new condition of post-photography seems already in place. It is an opportune moment to reexamine key sources of the idea of photography as memory and as history. As an example of this major cultural idea at work in the construction of specific cultural memories, the traditional idea of photography as "light writing" can be seen as playing a profound and decisive role in how the American Civil War has been remembered and understood. Those memories have been fundamental to conceptions of nation and nationality in the U. S., and should be taken into serious account in any critique of memories steeped in photographic versions of the past.

An episode of social conflict between Russian and Estonian “mnemonic communities” is used as a framework for exploring issues of collective memory. In order to understand the strong Russian reaction to the Estonian decision to move a memorial statue, it is argued that the notion of “deep memory” is needed, a notion that is, in turn, grounded in the construct of a “narrative template.” The particular narrative template examined is the Russian “Expulsion of Foreign Enemies” plot line. The call for recognizing a distinction between abstract narrative templates, on the one hand, and “specific narratives,” on the other is viewed as applying to a wide range of cases where mnemonic communities seem to exist in implacable opposition. In such cases deep memory and the narrative templates around which it is organized are set forth as strong underlying conservative forces that resist change in collective memory at a deep level. It is suggested that debates grounded in formal history (as opposed to collective memory) may help overcome this resistance to change but that such efforts will be limited as long as the forces of deep collective memory are not recognized.

This article considers the power of food as a vehicle for memory by exploring the ways that food crosses the personal and the collective, the individual and the social. It examines these questions through the lens of certain Easter practices on the island of Kalymnos, Greece, concerning the preparation of lamb. The ovens and pots used to prepare lamb are a marker of Kalymnian identity, but have moved in interesting ways in and out of social practice. By comparing these socially embedded practices with American "junk food" memories, the article suggests some general qualities that make food a useful site for the exploration of the social constitution of memory.

Collective memories are often formed through the conversations community members have with each other. The effectiveness of these conversations to transmit a memory across a community and to produce a shared and stable mnemonic representation is constrained by psychological factors. This essay examines the effects of speakers' retellings of past events (a) on listeners' memories and (b) on their own memories. The first topic involves research investigating social contagion, resistance to influence, and induced forgetting. The second focuses on the saying-is-believing effect and the creation of a shared reality. By illuminating these processes underlying transmission and convergence of individual memories, the essay provides new insights into the formation of their collective counterpart.

The people we call Europeans include many millions of European Union citizens, the Swiss, the Ukrainians, the Turks, the Norwegians, the Croatians, the Serbs, and the Albanians. Do they share memories and a common sense of history? Indeed, should Europeans share memories? Each of the European nations has accumulated a stockpile of tales and myths that allow its citizens to act in solidarity within set boundaries. What, then, does that imply for a united Europe? In what way do Europeans have a “shared memory” We must display the anchor points of supra- and transnational memory as concentric circles: The first circle: the holocaust as a negative founding myth. The second circle: Soviet-communism—equally criminal? The third circle: expulsions as a pan-European Trauma? The fourth circle: the Armenian question— Unanswered? The fifth circle: the European periphery The sixth circle: Europe as a continent of Immigration. The seventh circle: Europe’s success story after 1945.

In this essay, I argue that the political community’s identity and its sense of its own coherence as a responsible agent across time rest squarely on the work of collective memory. The protean volatility of the politics of memory reminds us that in our world (or perhaps it always and everywhere was so), memory is intertwined with power, interest and resistance precisely because it is so vital and fundamental to what we are as citizens and to what our society is a community of justice.

An important role of memory, both individual and collective, is to remind us of what we owe to the past. To understand this role, we need to conceive memory not merely in cognitive terms, but also as what Nietzsche called “memory of the will.” It is this “conative” aspect of memory which explains the link between memory and identity. There still remain problems of how to explain how a collective memory “of the will” is transmitted over long periods of time, and how to explain certain familiar pathologies (repression, the return of the repressed). In the later parts of the paper, I look at Jan Assmann’s important contributions to this question.

This article does not have an abstract.

This article does not have an abstract.