After the Nazi era, is there a place in the public space for war heroes?
In his inimitable style, Thomas Bernhard shows the everyday fascism of conventional, conservative society, and the pain it causes victims and sensitive thinkers. A professor, driven away from Vienna during the Nazi regime, returns to the city after the war, only to realise he can’t stomach the stupid and blind arrogance of its inhabitants who never truly turn their backs on the ideology of national socialism. He buys an apartment close to the Heldenplatz - the “place of heroes”, where Hitler proclaimed the Austrian Anschluss in 1938 in front of cheering Viennese masses. The professor’s wife suffers from hearing those masses persistently shouting in her head decades later, and she can’t get over the brutal memories of the fascist regime. A slave to her inner voices and her pain, she is increasingly unhappy, but her husband can’t make the decision to sell the apartment at the Heldenplatz - “driven away by the Nazis for a second time”.
Reading Thomas Bernhard again after many years, I am stunned at the continued relevance of his sharp tongue. Across the world, we have put up monuments to celebrate military success, and we proudly look up to people who lead countries into war and destruction, often representing an oppressive ideology or religion.
Who tells the stories of those who suffered from the victories of the national heroes? Who tells the stories of those who were terrified when they heard the masses roar in front of a populist leader? Who tells the stories of those who said no to violence and fame and honour and dominance and were punished for it?
Thomas Bernhard does. His voice might not be welcome, as he calls everyday fascists by their proper names. His voice might enrage those who need heroes to feel superior to other people, and to justify themselves and their historical identity. But his voice is necessary as a counter-balance to the shallow historical understanding that puts a famous military leader on a pedestal and urges the masses to worship him for “bravely” killing fellow human beings.
Where do we draw a line? Which military action is admirable, and which one is condemnable?
Reading Thomas Bernhard, I think it is time to put the victims of violence on pedestals: slaves, women, children, people resisting war and violence. Nurses, doctors, educators, philosophers, human rights activists. Why do we still celebrate military power in a world that can be wiped out on a whim? Is it not time to reconsider the terms of honour and heroism and let go of public military glorification? Do we really still want our youth to admire and worship the warriors of the past? Military history belongs into textbooks and museums, and should be studied with care and thoughtfulness, but should it really decorate our public spaces? Isn’t it time to put peaceful representatives of society on pedestals to watch over our daily movements?
I hear the victims of ideological warriors scream, just like Thomas Bernhard.
Highly recommended!