Every year, Holocaust Remembrance Day reminds us of a past that seems extremely distant. It is commemorated with ceremonies, torchlight vigils, and solemn speeches.
Yet, if approached honestly, memory as it is experienced is often domesticated: convenient, reassuring, and compatible with tranquil consciences. It is a memory that does not disturb, that does not challenge daily lives, privileges, or comforting narratives. True memory, instead, would frighten.
“Couch memory”: witnessing tragedy from afar
A genuinely alive memory does not concern only the past; it concerns the present. It would force confrontation with omissions and silent complicities. How disturbed does one feel today when news broadcasts show images of war, hunger, persecution? Gaza, Ukraine, the United States: there is awareness of the tragedy, but for many, it becomes a statistic, a feed to scroll through, a news item to discuss and then forget. Spectators, distant from any urgency to intervene.
Living memory, the kind that hurts, demands facing everyday indifference. This is not merely a moral issue; it is a communication problem that manifests as slacktivism. This form of “couch activism” is symptomatic of a culture that has domesticated memory. It requires minimal real commitment but gives the illusion of meaningful action. From signing an online petition to sharing content; from leaving a comment on a post to simply “liking” something to show solidarity, all without taking concrete action.
The appeal of slacktivism lies in immediate gratification: it allows feeling engaged and like a “good citizen” without risking anything, stepping out of comfort zones, or changing habits.
The silent evil of normality
Evil does not scream. It speaks like everyone else. Tragedies may emerge from monsters, certainly, but the passive acceptance of everyday life as it is, without questioning systems, privileges, languages, or behaviors, plays its part.
It is unsettling to realise that some benefit from this domesticated version of memory. A memory that comforts, absolves guilt, and allows feeling righteous without acting leaves uncomfortable truths outside the door. Yet, how long can the atrocity of the past be commemorated without examining a present that repeats similar dynamics, even in different forms?
The mechanism is subtle: it convinces us that what happens far away is inevitable or impossible to change. «It’s too complicated», «It’s politics», «It has always existed and always will».
And so, pages are scrolled past, social media closed, and attention returns to sofas and comfort. But it is precisely this silence, this distance, that allows evil to recur, even in small daily forms: exclusionary language, unnoticed discrimination, indifference that enables silent violence to persist.
Remembering is not risk-free compassion
If memory were truly alive, it would scare because it demands responsibility, not mere commemoration. It would confront choices: to look or to turn away. Remembering is not only about honoring the victims of yesterday; it is about questioning who is present today, how communication is conducted, and how distance and indifference are allowed to become tools of harm.
Perhaps this explains why domesticated memory is so ingrained in life. It allows pain to be felt without action, compassion without risk, outrage without getting one’s hands dirty. For memory to matter, it must be accepted that it hurts, disturbs, and implicates those who remain passive.
True memory is not a torch to be admired from afar; it is a beacon illuminating what is being neglected here and now.
