Ron Eyerman's "The Past in the Present Culture and the Transmission of Memory" (Summary)

 

Ron Eyerman’s article aims to introduce the concept of cultural trauma, focusing on its relevance to the experience of slavery and the development of African American identity. It explores the ideas of 'collective memory' and 'collective identity' in connection with a theory about intellectual generations. The argument suggests that the notion of being 'African American' emerged as a response by a group of black intellectuals who grappled with their exclusion from American society, despite promises of full integration after the Civil War (1861–1865). In this process, slavery was not merely an event but a powerful memory that played a central role.

 

Historical accounts have traditionally revolved around the belief that history is made up of lived stories, both individual and collective. Historians were seen as storytellers tasked with uncovering and retelling these narratives. The truth of these narratives was believed to lie in their alignment with the lived experiences of people in the past. However, as history evolved into a formal discipline, its connection with collective memory became more complex and constrained by scientific norms and evidential standards. Despite this, the narrative form and intention persisted, even with a heightened focus on factual documentation.

 

Hayden White offers a thoughtful exploration of the interplay between history and memory, seeking to reconcile their relationship by placing both within their respective temporal and socio-political contexts—essentially, within the broader scope of history.

 

Sociologists don't frequently delve into the realm of memory, and even less so into history. Here, Eyerman aims to depart from that tradition by emphasizing the significance of the past and collective memory in shaping identity. While this discussion is based on the research into the formation of African American identity within the framework of cultural trauma, the essay presenta a more general model centered on the concepts of cultural trauma, collective memory, and narrative.

 

Cultural trauma, provides a framework for understanding how collective identities develop in response to significant events. Unlike individual trauma, which involves personal emotional distress, cultural trauma refers to a profound loss of identity and meaning experienced by a cohesive group of people due to a major societal upheaval. This trauma doesn't necessarily affect every member of the group, nor do they all have to directly experience the traumatic event. However, it's crucial to establish the event's significance and recognize its traumatic impact. This process takes time and requires public reflection and discussion. In modern societies, media representations play a significant role in shaping collective understanding.

 

Neil Smelser defines cultural trauma as a memory that is acknowledged and accepted by a relevant group, recalling an event or situation loaded with negative emotions. It's seen as indelible and is believed to threaten the society's existence or challenge its core cultural beliefs. The key idea is that the formation of collective identity, closely tied to collective memory, can be rooted in experiences of loss and crisis, as well as moments of triumph. In fact, one way groups cope with loss is by attempting to transform tragedy into a narrative of triumph. This is a recurring theme in studies of cultural trauma, particularly in contexts like that of African Americans who have historically occupied a marginalized or subordinate position in society.

 

Sociologists don't often focus on memory, and when they do, it's sometimes viewed negatively as mere nostalgia. In modern times, there's a strong emphasis on looking forward to the future, rather than dwelling on the past. This idea is a core part of modernity and a key theme in classical sociological thinking. The aim is to break free from the constraints of history. Marx, for instance, pointed out how the weight of past events can heavily influence the present.

 

However, memory is essential for understanding society and how people interact within it. It serves as a mental map that helps individuals and groups navigate who they are, why they exist, and where they're headed. Memory is a crucial part of both personal and collective identity.

 

Usually, memory is thought of as something individual, residing within each person's mind. Theories about how people form their identities and develop socially tend to see memory as part of this process. Some models of collective identity, such as those in the collective behavior school, suggest that a "loss of self" occurs, freeing individuals from the constraints of memory, allowing new collective identities to emerge on their own.

 

In contrast, the Durkheimian tradition in social thought sees collective memory as vital for maintaining and perpetuating society. This view emphasizes collective events, rituals, and ceremonies that help uphold social cohesion. This perspective, as articulated by Paul Connerton, defines collective memory as shared recollections of the past passed down through ongoing acts of commemoration. These official rituals serve to remember a group's common heritage, with a shared history being a central component. These practices involve both physical and emotional elements, as the past is embodied and remembered through cultural customs.

 

In this view, individual memory is seen as stemming from collective memory. It's the collective memory that guides a group, providing the temporal and mental framework mentioned earlier. Collective memory brings a group together across time and space by offering a narrative framework, a shared story that situates individuals and their life stories within it. Because this narrative can be represented in various forms like text, art, or communication, it can be transported and shared widely.

 

This connection between collective memory and the formation of collective identity aligns with concepts of myth and ideology. Susan Sontag, in her discussion about the role of photography in representing pain, argues that there's no true "collective memory" in the strictest sense. Instead, what's often referred to as collective memory is more of a collective agreement on what's important and the story of how it happened. Images play a significant role in solidifying this story in our minds, serving as archives that support common ideas and evoke predictable thoughts and feelings. This distinction helps clarify the boundaries between the disciplines of history and collective memory.

 Slavery holds significant cultural importance and serves as a key memory in the shaping of African American identity. Successive generations of African American intellectuals have reflected on and reinterpreted its meaning, contributing to the collective narrative. After the American Civil War ended in 1865, there was hope for freedom and full citizenship for black Americans. However, as time passed, a new notion of "white-ness" emerged, leading to a reevaluation of the past, particularly the memory of slavery.

 

The first generation of black intellectuals arose in the 1890s, following the disappointment of the Reconstruction era and the reestablishment of segregation through practices like "Jim Crow." This led to a cultural trauma, prompting a reexamination of the past. The intellectuals, including figures like Booker T. Washington and W. E. B. Du Boi, played a significant role in this process.

 

Washington and Du Bois believed that cultural politics was crucial for gaining acceptance in American society, especially when traditional politics was not accessible to them. They emphasized the unique opportunities that slavery presented for black Americans, framing it as a stepping stone to racial progress. This perspective laid the groundwork for a progressive narrative that influenced the second generation.

 

In addition to these intellectuals, popular culture played a vital role in shaping the consciousness of this generation. Former slaves' narratives gained popularity, as did black-faced minstrel shows and the emergence of black novelists, poets, and folk music like the blues. These forms of expression transmitted the memory of slavery across generations.

 

The conditions and events that were formative for the second generation included black Americans' participation in World War I and the resulting demographic shifts. The Great Migration saw millions of black Americans move from rural areas to urban centers, fundamentally changing perceptions of their experiences. This period also saw the rise of mass media beyond print, with radio, film, and the recording industry playing significant roles.

 

The third generation was shaped by the Second World War, another wave of the Great Migration, and post-war prosperity. The progressive narrative gained prominence, framing the terms of representation. This narrative gave rise to the civil rights movement, led by figures like Martin Luther King, Jr., who emphasized inclusion through good works and religious themes.

 

As the civil rights movement progressed, a modernized form of Black nationalism emerged, influenced by new visions of Africa and anti-colonial movements. This revitalized the redemptive narrative, which competed with the progressive narrative for support among African Americans. The mass media, particularly television, played a crucial role in shaping public perceptions.

 

Ultimately, the civil rights movement saw a convergence and reconciliation of these two narrative frames. This history has been institutionalized in Black Studies programs at colleges and universities across the United States.

 

To conclude, in this study, Eyerman aimed to develop a theory of cultural trauma centered around the significance of slavery in shaping African American identity. While focusing on representation, it is crucial to acknowledge the real suffering and costs associated with this historical experience. He links the formation of collective identity with collective memory, viewing memory as a meaningful practice that underpins group identity. The term 'African American' emerged as a response to the collective rejection faced by black individuals by American society after the Civil War. Slavery, viewed not just as an experience but as a remembered concept, played a central role in this process. As the dominant white society reinterpreted the Civil War, pushing slavery and former slaves to the margins, a crisis of identity emerged for marginalized groups. This led to the proposal of the term 'African American' and the concept of a 'New Negro' shortly after. Successive generations of African Americans collectively shaped their identities in relation to the dominant society, with slavery as a backdrop.

 

This process took place in various domains, including politics through organizations like the NAACP, as well as through social movements and cultural struggles for representation and recognition. Throughout these arenas, the past always remained a significant factor.

 

The issue of how well the narratives align with actual experiences remains a topic for further exploration. It's akin to the challenge of established frameworks not fitting new situations, a concept often discussed in sociological studies of science or ideologies. These frameworks serve as the foundation for collective thinking.

 

At a practical level, both narrative frames—progressive and redemptive—implied specific courses of action. The progressive narrative aimed for long-term social integration to overcome marginalization, while the redemptive narrative, championed by figures like Malcolm X, advocated for withdrawal and separation.

 

On another level, the concept of narrative directly relates to personal experience. For instance, in discussions about the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa, narratives of memory are seen as a means to attain a more truthful understanding of apartheid. These narratives connect directly with experience and encourage critical reflection, offering an alternative perspective to established discourses of power.

 

In essence, narratives are accounts of events that structure them within a meaningful framework. They carry a truth-claim, which can be subject to challenge, as different frames of interpretation may lead to varying conclusions about the same set of facts. This usage of narrative encompasses both everyday understanding and broader theoretical frameworks, aiming to capture the evolution of understanding that guides social practices.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Looking at things from this viewpoint, the past serves as a shared reference point that shapes the collective identity of a group, even if not everyone experienced it firsthand. This understanding of the past is brought to life through symbolic interactions, storytelling, and discussions. Memory itself is influenced by these interactions and is used to validate and construct identity.

 

While physical objects, urban layouts, and museum displays can embody elements of the past, the meaning of the past is conveyed, understood, and passed down through language and conversation. These conversations take the form of stories, narratives that organize how they're told and impact how they're received. All communities and nations have foundational stories that explain who they are by recounting their origins. These narratives serve as core frameworks and are transmitted through traditions, rituals, ceremonies, and public events that reconnect the group and confirm membership. In this process, "we" are remembered, and "they" may be excluded.

 

These foundational narratives can be likened to discourse in the sense explored by Foucault, especially as outlined in his work "The Archaeology of Knowledge." While Foucault's discourses impose order from above and from outside through established knowledge, narratives are less rigid and more adaptable. Discourses dictate how texts should be interpreted, producing the meaning they convey; this links discourse to established power and, consequently, to ideology. Discourses, in this sense, unify and legitimize a diverse set of practices, creating a "system of relations." Even in fields like literature or popular culture, discourses can silently influence what gets published, read, and discussed.

 

Both narrative and discourse serve as framing structures that include and exclude, give voice and impose silence, shaping what can be seen and said, and by whom. Unlike Foucault's notion of discourse, collective narratives leave more room for individual agency while still providing a framework for individual stories to gain broader significance. While discourses involve power dynamics and empower those in the right positions, narratives can offer a platform for a "counter-story" from a minority or oppressed group, where some central concepts of a dominant discourse can be adopted and reinterpreted. For example, the concept of "race" was taken up and redefined by African Americans in their struggle to redefine their status in society. However, even within this process, more powerful representatives of a marginalized group can still exert a discursive influence in determining how their groups should be represented.

 

In many cases, founding narratives revolve around a significant and often traumatic event from which the collective identity of a group is said to have emerged. While these narratives share similarities with myths, they typically lack the all-encompassing and ontological scope usually associated with myths. However, regardless of their nature, these narratives are emotionally impactful. Founding narratives are about not only establishing a collective identity but also creating an "imagined" community. While this process is often studied in the context of nation-states and nation-building, it has been applied in studies of social movements and, more recently, in the examination of ethnic minority groups like black Americans, where a generational perspective complements the concepts of cultural trauma, collective memory, and narrative.

 

Cultural trauma draws attention to how we collectively remember events and the role of representation. There's also a power dynamic at play, with political leaders and mass media influencing which events get represented, impacting what gets remembered or forgotten. In the case of major events like civil wars, understanding and interpreting them may take time and distance. When there are winners and losers, the losing side might struggle to have their perspective heard, and it could take years, even generations, for them to share their side of the story.

 

In a study of how Spain remembers the Spanish Civil War, Igartua and Paez (1997) highlight four key factors in how memory changes over generations:

 

The need for enough time to pass for people to emotionally distance themselves from the traumatic event, whether it's a personal or a collective experience.

 

The requirement of social resources to support activities that commemorate and remember the event.

 

The natural aging of individuals involved, leading to selective remembering and forgetting.

 

The impact of this aging process on socio-political repression.