Contested Spaces: Sites, Representations and Histories of Conflict
Museums, as such, don't get mentioned much in this book. But it raises important questions about the materiality of place as expressed through memory, interpretation, representation, narrative and preservation.
If its themes are developed within the aftermath of conflict, it is no less relevant to every museum, because all spaces are to some extent contested.
In looking at physical and psychological landscapes shaped by violence, this book is never glib: contradictions are intelligently drawn out and sensitively discussed. It is also inflected by the rawness of a narrative that is based on first-hand experience and observation.
The introduction by an Iraqi victim of torture in Abu Ghraib rails against a proposal to demolish the prison: "A universal symbol of brutality and ruthlessness should not be erased but remembered," she says.
She is also clear about how it should communicate: "Silence will be the language that howls loud to condemn atrocities, violence, humiliation and degradation, and protests our pain." A reminder that sometimes museums should have the decency to get out of the way and respect the ability of a visitor to hear unaided.
Contested Spaces features a series of grouped case studies. Under Dividing Lines describes the restrictions on movement across contested boundaries in Jerusalem, Cyprus and the US/Mexican border.
Layers of History looks at iconic battlefield sites in Scotland and South Africa, at places of conflict with indigenous peoples in Australia and at two sites in Berlin commemorating the impact of two different totalitarian ideologies.
Finally, Return Journeys discusses a Nazi forced labour camp in northern France, post-genocide Rwanda and Long Kesh/Maze Prison in Northern Ireland. It is an eclectic mix, but the themes are universal.
Memorialising atrocity can sometimes stand in the way of peace and reconciliation. In Cyprus the perpetrator/victim model of museum interpretation is out of tune with the mood of the times and stands in the way of reintegration.
A similar dilemma can occur when the wounds are fresh: a survivor of the Rwandan genocide refuses to visit a massacre site for fear that it will again inflame hatred between Tutsis and Hutus.
There are circumstances in which personal and collective experience is so far beyond the norm that ideas of objectivity and balance seem inapplicable. And here lies the challenge: to confront and understand are moral obligations when a neighbour turns murderer - for this is to understand ourselves, our capacity and our complicity.
Photographs of prisoners being abused by US forces at Abu Ghraib are a timeless reminder of what happens when power is abused by people who believe they can act unaccountably.
The partialness and partiality of history is a recurring theme. The last chapter poses questions about narrative truth through the making of a documentary about Long Kesh/Maze Prison in Northern Ireland. The video relied on the testimonies of people connected with the prison.
Participants were "stimulated by the materiality of the site, remembering 'things they had forgotten', and using their bodies to 'relive' and retell some of their experiences". No space is neutral. "Telling stories is an act of negotiation between… speaker and listener at a particular time and place. It is not an absolute truth… it is contingent."
So are all spaces contested and why should museums pay special attention? Whose story is told, how it is communicated and by whom, are informed by societal pressure and by the philosophy and practices of the museum itself, whose spaces are never neutral and are themselves sites where power and authority can be open to abuse.
In a world affected by climate change, museums must connect with peoples and places increasingly conflicted as demand for food, water, fuel and living space outstrip supply. Perhaps the book's most universal theme, though not explicit, is the contest for the space within our hearts and minds.
Museums, as such, don't get mentioned much in this book. But it raises important questions about the materiality of place as expressed through memory, interpretation, representation, narrative and preservation.
If its themes are developed within the aftermath of conflict, it is no less relevant to every museum, because all spaces are to some extent contested.
In looking at physical and psychological landscapes shaped by violence, this book is never glib: contradictions are intelligently drawn out and sensitively discussed. It is also inflected by the rawness of a narrative that is based on first-hand experience and observation.
The introduction by an Iraqi victim of torture in Abu Ghraib rails against a proposal to demolish the prison: "A universal symbol of brutality and ruthlessness should not be erased but remembered," she says.
She is also clear about how it should communicate: "Silence will be the language that howls loud to condemn atrocities, violence, humiliation and degradation, and protests our pain." A reminder that sometimes museums should have the decency to get out of the way and respect the ability of a visitor to hear unaided.
Contested Spaces features a series of grouped case studies. Under Dividing Lines describes the restrictions on movement across contested boundaries in Jerusalem, Cyprus and the US/Mexican border.
Layers of History looks at iconic battlefield sites in Scotland and South Africa, at places of conflict with indigenous peoples in Australia and at two sites in Berlin commemorating the impact of two different totalitarian ideologies.
Finally, Return Journeys discusses a Nazi forced labour camp in northern France, post-genocide Rwanda and Long Kesh/Maze Prison in Northern Ireland. It is an eclectic mix, but the themes are universal.
Memorialising atrocity can sometimes stand in the way of peace and reconciliation. In Cyprus the perpetrator/victim model of museum interpretation is out of tune with the mood of the times and stands in the way of reintegration.
A similar dilemma can occur when the wounds are fresh: a survivor of the Rwandan genocide refuses to visit a massacre site for fear that it will again inflame hatred between Tutsis and Hutus.
There are circumstances in which personal and collective experience is so far beyond the norm that ideas of objectivity and balance seem inapplicable. And here lies the challenge: to confront and understand are moral obligations when a neighbour turns murderer - for this is to understand ourselves, our capacity and our complicity.
Photographs of prisoners being abused by US forces at Abu Ghraib are a timeless reminder of what happens when power is abused by people who believe they can act unaccountably.
The partialness and partiality of history is a recurring theme. The last chapter poses questions about narrative truth through the making of a documentary about Long Kesh/Maze Prison in Northern Ireland. The video relied on the testimonies of people connected with the prison.
Participants were "stimulated by the materiality of the site, remembering 'things they had forgotten', and using their bodies to 'relive' and retell some of their experiences". No space is neutral. "Telling stories is an act of negotiation between… speaker and listener at a particular time and place. It is not an absolute truth… it is contingent."
So are all spaces contested and why should museums pay special attention? Whose story is told, how it is communicated and by whom, are informed by societal pressure and by the philosophy and practices of the museum itself, whose spaces are never neutral and are themselves sites where power and authority can be open to abuse.
In a world affected by climate change, museums must connect with peoples and places increasingly conflicted as demand for food, water, fuel and living space outstrip supply. Perhaps the book's most universal theme, though not explicit, is the contest for the space within our hearts and minds.
