Looking back. Looking ahead. 2020-2025

206   SPEECHES | INSTITUTIONS Institutions exhibition on the camp’s history in the former camp laundry in 2007; the second permanent exhibition on the post-war histo- ry of the Flossenbürg concentration camp in 2010; the found- ing of an education centre in the former SS canteen building in 2015, the simultaneous establishment of an inclusively operated café; the expansion of the memorial into a scholarly research institution in 2018; the founding of the Centre for Commemorative Culture with the University of Regensburg in 2020; and the ongoing integration of the former camp quarry into the memorial, starting in 2023. These are, of course, only the milestones. At every stage of their planning and realisation, these develop- ments have consistently relied on discursive and participatory processes. In their concrete forms and in the ways people en- gage with them every day, they embody a new – and necessary – understanding of memorial sites, where remembrance is no longer envisaged as a static state, but as a dynamic phenom- enon that constantly questions itself, welcomes new and di- verse perspectives, continues to evolve, and thereby inevitably exposes itself to critique. When juxtaposed with older, long-established concentration camp memorial sites – such as Dachau, Bergen-Belsen or Buchenwald – the Flossenbürg Memorial’s reconceptualisation since the late 1990s could be described as a catching-up pro- cess. Yet it is far more than that; it is a process that repeatedly examines itself in a critically reflective, purposeful and open environment. The debates held at – and about – this place are as intellectually grounded as they are at times frustrating. They are as invigorating as they are exhausting. They are as enriching as they are consequential. And they are as democrat- ic as they are democratising. Established institutions and subsidy recipients The development of the Flossenbürg Memorial over the past 25 years – like that of many similar institutions in Germany – may appear to be a success story, but this view only paints part of the picture and is sometimes misleading. Remembrance of the Nazis’ crimes against humanity was not handed to us; it had to be carved out against resistance. It is less a story of success than one of learning – scholarly learning, political learning and general human learning. Engaging with these crimes is demanding, and yet the interactions with those who gather at such sites – relatives, visitors and members of the local community – can be extremely rewarding. Concentration camp memorial sites are sensitive indicators of a society’s state of mind; social moods and attitudes are immediately perceptible here. And it seems almost paradoxical that people are drawn to these historical crime scenes in order to remind themselves of the value of our democracy and, indeed, of our own humanity. Gazing into the abyss can sharpen our sense of what really matters – and how fragile it is. As pillars of Germany’s culture of remembrance, concentration camp memorial sites are democratic and democratising places. This can be concluded from our daily work at such sites.We are only able to draw such a conclusion today as a result of decades of hard-fought work. But it should not lull us into a false sense of security – quite the opposite. As British historian Timothy Garton Ash once quipped, our culture of remembrance follows neither a masterplan nor any DIN standards. 11 It is fragile, and its seeming stability makes it especially vulnerable to attack. Thus, today’s culture of remembrance is neither a state success story nor a failure. It is endangered. It needs supporters and fellow campaigners, as well as critical guidance and innovative minds.Without them – and without the dedication of all those who work at and with concentration camp memorial sites – our society would be far more brittle than it is. That much is certain.