Memory Entrepreneurship: Armenian Genocide Recognition in Europe

Abstract

Scholars have analyzed how political actors appropriate Holocaust-related memory laws to whitewash the past and undermine democratic traditions in various European countries. However, political actors in Europe have debated several other memory laws, which far-right MPs appropriate to serve their own purposes. The recognition of the Armenian Genocide is an understudied example of this phenomenon. Drawing from data collected in four countries—Bulgaria, the Czech Republic, Latvia, and Sweden—this analysis introduces the rhetorical strategies of memory justification and memory extrapolation to examine how far-right MPs, in very distinct geopolitical contexts, appropriate and instrumentalize Armenian Genocide memory to attack pluralism and promote their own versions of Europe. Through an analysis of the instrumentalization of the Armenian Genocide, this article examines a growing crisis at the center of contemporary European politics. This crisis, which involves actors promoting very different goals and values, increasingly threatens the socio-political cohesion of Europe.

Los académicos han analizado cómo los agentes políticos se han ido apropiando de las leyes de memoria relacionadas con el Holocausto con el fin de blanquear el pasado y socavar las tradiciones democráticas en varios países europeos. Sin embargo, los agentes políticos europeos han debatido algunas otras leyes en materia de memoria, de las que se apropian los diputados de extrema derecha con el fin servir a sus propios fines. El reconocimiento del genocidio armenio es un ejemplo poco estudiado de este fenómeno. Este análisis presenta, a partir de datos recopilados en cuatro países diferentes (Bulgaria, República Checa, Letonia y Suecia), las estrategias retóricas en materia de justificación de la memoria y de extrapolación de la memoria con el fin de desentrañar cómo los diputados de extrema derecha, en contextos geopolíticos muy distintos, se apropian e instrumentalizan el reconocimiento del Genocidio Armenio con el fin de atacar el pluralismo y promover sus propias versiones de Europa. Este articulo estudia, a través de un análisis de la instrumentalización del Genocidio Armenio, una creciente crisis existente en el centro de la política europea contemporánea. Esta crisis, en la que participan agentes que promueven objetivos y valores muy diferentes, amenaza cada vez más la cohesión sociopolítica de Europa.

Les chercheurs ont analysé comment les acteurs politiques s'approprient les lois relatives au souvenir de l'Holocauste pour étouffer le passé et remettre en cause les traditions démocratiques dans différents pays européens. Or, les acteurs politiques européens ont débattu de plusieurs autres lois sur le souvenir, que les députés d'extrême droite s'approprient pour servir leurs propres intérêts. La reconnaissance du génocide arménien est un exemple sous-étudié de ce phénomène. En se fondant sur des données collectées dans quatre pays (Bulgarie, République tchèque, Lettonie et Suède), cette analyse présente les stratégies rhétoriques de justification du souvenir et de l'extrapolation du souvenir pour décomposer comment les députés d'extrême droite, dans des contextes géopolitiques très différents, s'approprient et instrumentalisent la reconnaissance du génocide arménien pour s'attaquer au pluralisme et promouvoir leur propre version de l'Europe. Par le biais d'une analyse de l'instrumentalisation du génocide arménien, cet article s'intéresse à la crise croissante au cœur de la politique européenne contemporaine. Cette crise, qui implique des acteurs qui défendent des objectifs et valeurs très différents, menace de plus en plus la cohésion sociopolitique de l'Europe.

Introduction

In the last two decades, several European parliaments have passed resolutions recognizing the Armenian Genocide. Many of these recognitions occurred alongside another phenomenon—namely, the mainstreaming of xenophobic, far-right political parties (Mudde 2014, 2019, 2022).¹ In diverse geopolitical contexts throughout Europe, far-right parties have manifested strong support of Armenian Genocide recognition. To be sure, it would not be accurate to argue that most of these parliamentary recognitions took place because of far-right support of them; indeed, in several cases, they played little to no role.² Nonetheless, far-right political actors have consistently appropriated and instrumentalized Armenian Genocide memories to pursue their own strategic agendas.

Scholars have examined how right-leaning political actors across Europe appropriate Holocaust-related memories to whitewash the past and erode democratic traditions (Koposov 2017; Subotić 2019; Mälksoo 2021). As the research shows, Holocaust memory politics often has less to do with Jewish history than it does with political actors’ objectives. This important scholarship, however, has paid less attention to the appropriation of other memories. Since the fall of the Soviet Union, creating a common, collective memory about the crimes of Nazism and the Soviet Union has proven a contentious process, one in which diverse members of parliament (MPs) across Europe have posited wide-ranging values and goals (Sierp 2023). Memory politics about the Holocaust remains contentious, but, from the early 2010s, the Armenian Genocide has increasingly become a narrative through which diverse political actors articulate a new set of political goals for Europe. Elected officials on the right often appropriate the Armenian Genocide to condemn communist regimes and undermine democratic traditions as they do in the context of Holocaust memory appropriation. However, many also instrumentalize memories of the Armenian Genocide to pursue very different agendas—that is, in diverse geopolitical spaces, Armenian Genocide recognition becomes emblematic of the far right's nativist and self-appointed role of “defending” civilization from Muslims (or Muslim immigrants), Turkey, and the political opponents, whom, they urge, fail to confront societal challenges. By unpacking the far-right politics of Armenian Genocide recognition in Europe, this analysis reveals several dimensions of the ideological schism and political competition that have been taking place across Europe—in particular, the far right's efforts to attack ethnic and religious pluralism. These dimensions overlap somewhat with Holocaust memory politics, particularly in the ways political actors promote revisionist, whitewashed accounts of history. However, in other ways, far-right actors rely on the Armenian Genocide for quite distinct purposes—namely, to alienate Turkey from the EU and demonize Muslim immigrants. Indeed, appropriating the Armenian Genocide is a common strategy far-right actors use to combat pluralism, undermine foreign policies, and, as Ugur-Cinar and Altınok have argued, project themselves as “the sole representatives of the people” (1106, 2021).

Drawing from data collected in Bulgaria, the Czech Republic, Latvia, and Sweden, this article expands the existing research on memory politics. By applying what Jelena Subotić refers to as “memory inversion,” it looks at how political actors employ similar rhetorical strategies to promote both the Holocaust and the Armenian Genocide. However, this analysis also builds on what scholars refer to as “memory entrepreneurship” (Olick and Robbins 1998; Neumayer 2015; Autry 2017) by introducing two new rhetorical strategies—namely, memory justification and memory extrapolation. Memory justification is the act of justifying a political position or policy—in this case, one that is nativist, anti-pluralistic, and/or Islamophobic—by appropriating the memory of the Armenian Genocide and inserting it into current European politics. On the other hand, memory extrapolation projects the memory of past atrocities into the present or future of Europe, and, in so doing, distorts history by anachronistically drawing parallels between the perpetuators of, in this case, the Armenian Genocide and contemporary Muslims. These strategies explain how, in quite distinct spaces, far-right political actors attempt to advance their careers and their parties by instrumentalizing Armenian Genocide recognition efforts to alienate Turkey from the EU, demonize Muslims, and promote their own, typically nativist versions of Europe. While I do not suggest that these efforts are coordinated, the consistent manner of appropriating the Armenian Genocide helps clarify some dimensions of the growing influence of the far right in Europe.

Memory Politics and Laws

In research on collective memory, Jeffrey Olick and colleagues analyze how knowledge about the past interacts with the social present in conditioning political action (Olick and Levy 1997; Olick and Robbins 1998). Their research highlights how these dynamic interactions—that is, of constructing or creating the present out of the past—are mutually constitutive and perpetual processes (Olick and Levy 1997). Based on research about Holocaust memory in Germany, Olick and Levy argue that “mythical and rational images of the past sometimes work together and sometimes do battle, but these images always shape identity and its transformation” (934, 1997). These images provided Germany's post-Second World War political culture with its unique, identity-shaping character.

Over two decades after Olick and Levy published their seminal work on collective memory formation in Germany, contestations about memory continue to shape the political culture of Europe (Mälksoo 2009; Bull 2016; Brubaker 2017). However, those contestations are not confined to national boundaries; rather, they take place in the construction of a unified European political culture and identity (Sierp and Wüstenberg 2015). This is particularly evident in the proliferation of memory laws over the last several decades (Blacker and Etkind 2013; Assmann 2014; Fedor et al 2017).

In the voluminous scholarship on memory politics, memory laws are a subset (Barkan and Lang 2022). As Uladzislau Belavusau and Aleksandra Gliszczyńska-Grabias note, a memory law “enshrines state-approved interpretations of historical events” (2017, 1). These laws take many different forms, such as the establishment of state holidays, Holocaust denial prohibitions, Armenian Genocide recognition resolutions, and many others. While memory laws have a long history, they have significantly increased since the 1980s.³ Marina Bán and Belavusau have enumerated the growing classificatory scope of this scholarship (2022). This scope includes punitive—non-punitive (Fronza 2011), normative—declarative (Garibian 2006), anti-racist—anti-fascist (Koposov 2017), among many others. As the list suggests, memory laws (as with memory politics in general) serve wide-ranging functions in different national contexts. However, scholars have also unpacked the role of memory politics in supranational or transnational contexts (Levy and Sznaider 2006; Sierp and Wüstenberg 2015). For example, Aline Sierp argues the establishment of memory laws relating to the Holocaust played a central role in the creation of a transnational yet unified European culture and identity (2014).

Still, whether nationally or transnationally, memory politics and collective identity often become entangled processes. Appropriating Western European discourse in relationship to Holocaust commemoration, Central European, Eastern European, and Baltic political actors have relied on narratives about the past to cultivate their own projects. These projects often manifest quite diverse intentions (Mälksoo 2018; Bucholc 2019; Pető 2022). In several countries, where the people suffered considerably under both Soviet and Nazi regimes, memory narratives have come to signify a means by which to posit claims regarding victimhood as well as historical crimes (Koposov 2017). At the same time, Holocaust memory laws also signal to the “West” (broadly defined) a willingness of Eastern European states to deal with their pasts in such a way that has meant democratic transition—or a willingness to embrace European values (and thereby gain access to the European Union and the North Atlantic Treaty Organization or NATO). However, for many right-wing political actors, these memories often serve very different purposes.

Tasked with nation building and developing a national narrative about the historical deprivations of the titular groups, many elected officials selectively use memories to help construct a national identity vis-à-vis communist aggression. By equating their histories with those who suffered during the Holocaust, European right-wing nationalists, particularly those in Eastern Europe, have constructed memories to stoke anti-communist/Russian and pro-nationalist sentiments—or, as Adam Lerner frames this approach, “victimhood nationalism” (Lerner 2020). Some states have even gone as far as to criminalize alternative views as those put forward by nationalist policymakers (Demirel 2022). Referring to national security, these policymakers, in essence, forbid understanding history (openly or publicly, at least) in ways that do not conform to their own understandings. While the resulting memory contests have created a plethora of historical interpretations and injunctions, this approach has proven a common use of memory in the process of, as Rogers Brubaker argues, “nationalizing states” in Europe (1996). By equating crimes perpetuated by communists and Nazis, post-communist right and far-right MPs use memory laws to distance themselves from historical responsibility, sever ties with the communist past, forge new ones with the “West,” and construct nationalized identities (Subotić 2019).

As this scholarship has made clear, memory laws often relate more to the construction of a contemporary political culture than the acknowledgment of a historical past. For example, Nikolay Koposov (2017) and Jelena Subotić (2019) have produced important studies, which unpack the appropriation and weaponization of the Holocaust in several European countries. As their research shows, memory laws strengthen dogma regarding nation-states, particularly as they legitimize/memorialize the collective trauma of the titular nationalities.

Subotić’s book, Yellow Star, Red Star: Holocaust Remembrance after Communism (2019), powerfully frames these evolving dynamics in Europe. Subotić argues post-communist elites have appropriated, weaponized, and instrumentalized Holocaust commemoration to delegitimize communism. As Subotić argues: “A more nuanced way of understanding this type of Holocaust remembrance, I suggest, is as memory appropriation, where the memory of the Holocaust is used to memorialize a different kind of suffering, such as suffering under communism, or suffering from ethnic violence perpetrated by other groups” (9, 2019). This approach adds to the existing scholarship, which treats a tendency among many political actors to reject Holocaust-related legislation and promote their own “competitive martyrdom” (Shafir 2014) or “victimhood nationalism” (Lerner 2020). Subotić applies a typology of memory appropriation—consisting of memory inversion, divergence, and conflation—to describe “the attempts of Eastern European countries to deny or cloud their participation in fascist crimes” (6, 2019). Linking Holocaust narratives in Serbia, Croatia, and Lithuania with several states’ integration into the European Union, Subotić examines how collective memories about the Holocaust have been used to vilify and highlight the crimes of communism. These narratives often downplay the suffering of the Jewish people and exculpate titular nationalities. As such, Holocaust memories become a tool for Eastern European and Baltic states constructing their post-communist political identities. By conflating historical atrocities, political actors whitewash their own collaborative complicity and, instead, advocate for recognition of a genocide they endured under Soviet or communist rule.

While Holocaust-related research has played a singularly important role in developing the existing scholarship, it does not exhaust analyses of memory appropriation in the context of Europe (or elsewhere). For example, Assyrians, Greeks, Roma, Kurds, Crimean Tatars, Armenians, and several other populations also mobilize in efforts to gain state-sanctioned recognitions to commemorate their own historical tragedies (Kelso 2013; Williams 2015; Khosroeva 2017; Koinova 2020). And, similarly, diverse political actors promote these memories to pursue their own agendas. A prominent example of this is the Armenian Genocide (Hovannisian 2009; Kasbarian 2018). To date, governmental bodies in over thirty countries have debated and passed resolutions recognizing the Armenian Genocide. Diverse actors—Armenian organizations in the diaspora, Armenian diplomatic staff, elected officials from diverse political parties, and many others—support Armenian Genocide recognition for various reasons (Tölölyan 2000; Fittante 2023a). And, as with memory politics related to the Holocaust, political actors must respond to and construct memories out of similar constraints, geopolitical circumstances, and national narratives. Furthermore, these actors’ appropriations of Armenian Genocide memory often have less to do with the historical facts themselves than they do officials' conceptualizations about what it means to be European today—and who “belongs” in Europe. And this tendency occurs beyond post-communist Europe.

Rogers Brubaker argues that, in Europe, the perceived threat of Muslims has generated new iterations of populism (2017). In many of these iterations, xenophobic, far-right elected officials argue that Muslims threaten the bedrock of civilization; these political actors have stepped forward, in their rhetoric, to defend Europe. For Brubaker, a central feature of this brand of populism is the role of Christianity. The central role Christianity plays in far-right rhetoric does not, however, denote an increase in religious feeling or even practice, but rather relationally distinguishes Europeans from Muslims: “Crudely put, if ‘they’ are Muslim, then ‘we’ must, in some sense, be Christian. But that does not mean that ‘we’ must be religious” (2017, 1199). It is in this capacity that a growing group of elected officials identifies with and appropriates the Armenian Genocide. Several events have created a common cause for xenophobic officials across Europe: For example, the prospect of Turkey joining the EU in the early 2000s (Adjemian 2012; Kévorkian 2012) and, subsequently, the Syrian migration crisis from the early 2010s onward (Fittante 2023b).

As with Holocaust-related memories, the far right also consistently appropriates the Armenian Genocide. The existing parliamentary recognition resolutions do not typically occur because of these actors’ promotions of them; rather, they have come about from the work of diverse actors, who often prioritize historical injustice and human rights (Fittante 2023a). In fact, far-right political actors often have limited influence in the passage of many of the existing resolutions. Nonetheless, the far-right actors, who appropriate and weaponize Armenian Genocide memories, fit what has been characterized as “memory entrepreneurship”—speaking generally, actors who instrumentalize historical events in making demands for legal accountability or commemoration (Pollak 1993; Olick and Robbins 1998; Autry 2017; Neumayer 2015; Dean and Failler 2021). While memory entrepreneurship covers a broad range of activities in the existing scholarship, this analysis focuses specifically on memory politics—and, more specifically, the political actors who appropriate and support the Armenian Genocide to advance themselves, their parties, and their own goals. This analysis also adapts and builds on Subotić’s concept of memory inversion in application to Armenian Genocide appropriation. However, in addition to applying Subotić’s concept of memory inversion, I identify two new strategies to describe the appropriation of the Armenian Genocide-related memories among the far right—namely, memory justification and memory extrapolation. As with those Subotić identifies in the context of Holocaust appropriation, these strategies clarify the distinct uses of the Armenian Genocide in the instrumentalization of memory politics in Europe.

As Subotić notes, memory inversion describes political actors’ promotion of memories as an indirect way to advocate and verify their versions of national history—that is, “the Holocaust, its crimes, and its images are directly appropriated in order to make space for the discussion of crimes of communism” (25, 2019). In this analysis, memory inversion occurs not only in application to the crimes of communism but also to those of the Ottoman Empire. By instrumentalizing the Armenian Genocide, right-leaning actors seek to “prove” or promote their own claims about genocides that happened to the titular nationalities they represent.

While this analysis confirms and extends Subotić’s important research on how political actors appropriate Holocaust-related memories, Armenian Genocide memory politics introduces two rhetorical strategies absent in the existing scholarship. These strategies relate specifically to the far right and how its elected officials attack pluralism and promote their own versions of Europe. For example, memory justification occurs when far-right political actors use the Armenian Genocide to justify alienating Turkey from the EU and other European organizations. For many far-right actors, Turkey does not belong in the EU or NATO. While the rhetoric they use often pertains to the human rights abuses of Turkey's leadership and its long-standing denial of the Armenian Genocide (Dixon 2017; Avedian 2018), the underlying rationale relates to the fact that it is a predominantly Muslim country whose policies influence Europe. In addition, Turkey has used the migration crisis as leverage in its interactions with world leaders, particularly as regards preventing migration to Europe (Greenhill 2016; Baldwin-Edwards et al. 2019; Saatçioğlu 2020). This occurrence, too, has mobilized right-leaning opposition throughout Europe. Through memory justification, the Armenian Genocide becomes a narrative medium through which to communicate that Turkey, not acting in accordance with European “values” and “behaviors” (that is, of recognizing the Armenian Genocide), does not belong in Europe (or NATO). Simultaneously, memory justification allows far-right MPs to signal moral superiority over other European political actors, who continue to work with Turkey despite its leadership's human rights violations. Memory justification, therefore, creates, at first glance, a common cause with more liberal or left-leaning elected officials, who also support Armenian Genocide recognition on the basis of historical facts and human rights. This strategy highlights the sort of double-talk many far-right officials use when instrumentalizing the Armenian Genocide. Through memory justification, the Armenian Genocide—and other injustices acted out against Armenians—becomes a vehicle through which the far right generates emotional appeal to distort reality, claim moral superiority, and establish themselves as the “real” representatives of the nation (Ugur-Cinar and Altınok 2021).

Far-right MPs also strategically appropriate the Armenian Genocide in processes I refer to as memory extrapolation. Memory extrapolation occurs when elected officials use the Armenian Genocide to demonize other groups, particularly Muslims or Muslim immigrants. This rhetorical strategy often acts as a rationale for racist characterizations of Muslims as inherently violent or predatory. Memory extrapolation likens different histories of victimhood by anachronistically implying that continuities exist between the crimes perpetuated by past actors (in this case, the Young Turks) and contemporary Muslims. In this way, xenophobic, far-right political actors typically appropriate the Armenian Genocide to show that Muslims are untrustworthy and undesirable elements of society. Memory extrapolation via Armenian Genocide memory politics acts as a way for the far right to potentially distort history (and the present) in creating otherness between Muslims and Christian Europeans. In this way, political actors promote xenophobic policies while, ostensibly, advocating for human rights (Lingaas 2016). For these actors, the Armenian Genocide proves that Muslims and Christians (or Europeans—that is, non-Muslims) cannot live together harmoniously.

For many far-right MPs in Europe, Armenian Genocide memories have become emblematic of a persecuted Christian minority among a Muslim majority. Through different rhetorical stratagems, they transform the historical trauma of Armenians in the Ottoman Empire (and the Turkish state's vociferous denialism) as the embodiment of what they too must fight against in their “crusades” to save Western civilization (Brubaker 2017). Speaking out about the injustices Armenians faced and continue to face as regards the Turkish state helps these actors pursue a range of policy objectives—such as demonizing Muslims, confronting their opponents (for their unwillingness to speak the “truth” or confront human rights abuses of the Turkish government), and rallying their bases.

Methods

Data for this article come out of a larger, ongoing research project, which analyzes Armenian Genocide politics across Europe. For all the countries covered in this article—Bulgaria, the Czech Republic, Latvia, and Sweden—I undertook extended fieldwork in each site collecting data between mid-2019 and early 2023. In collecting data for this article, I relied on diverse primary source materials—fieldwork interviews, parliamentary speeches and debates, and social media.

For fieldwork interviews, I interviewed those most responsible for the creation and passage of the different recognition resolutions. However, I also included several of the main actors, who opposed them. The fieldwork interviews were primarily with MPs from the respective countries; however, I also consulted several local academics, Armenian diplomatic personnel and community members, political assistants, and others. Among MPs, interviews typically covered their motivations for supporting Armenian Genocide recognition resolutions, strategies behind the successful passage, and obstacles or opposition they confronted in the process. I was especially interested in both the personal and party motivations within each country; as such, I tried to meet and speak with several members from all the major parties, particularly those who had a specific stake (for or against) in the respective recognitions. I also interviewed several MPs, who played little to no role in recognition efforts but have relied on the Armenian Genocide memories to pursue their own or their parties’ objectives.

In most cases, the interviews took place in English; however, in a few cases, a professional translator accompanied me. Based on participants’ preferences (and level of involvement), the length of interviews varied widely—from 30 minutes to over 2 hours. Access to interview participants (especially among MPs) also varied in each fieldwork site. In some countries (such as Latvia), I had a high level of access to MPs; in others (such as the Czech Republic), MPs proved less receptive to be interviewed. Where access to MP interviews was lower, I compensated this shortcoming in the analysis by including more speech materials (typically from the respective countries’ parliamentary web pages) and/or social media content (from the individual MPs).

For the speeches and parliamentary archives, I relied on the official online minutes located on the respective countries’ official web pages. In each country, I worked with a local admin person who had specialized knowledge to help me navigate the official web pages and locate pertinent documents (such as motions, speeches, voter breakdowns, etc.). I also used word-specific searches on the public-access, personalized accounts (such as those on the MPs’ Facebook pages). I organized the database based on individual MPs’ parties and motivations. I then juxtaposed individual databases to elicit key themes from all the countries treated in this analysis.

For languages other than English and Armenian, I consulted local experts and translators when necessary. For example, I received assistance for translations of parliamentary speeches and debates. In addition, interviews were audio recorded (with participants’ oral consent) and partially transcribed. Non-English language transcriptions were then translated. I compared both translations rendered for accuracy and consistency.

I chose the countries included in this article because they reflect the range of far-right appropriations and rhetorical uses of the Armenian Genocide across Europe. This selection provides an accurate representation of the phenomenon described in diverse geopolitical contexts. In addition, while anti-Islamic, anti-Turkish MPs appropriated the Armenian Genocide in the early 2000s—such as those in France (Adjemian 2012; Kévorkian 2012)—I selected countries where far-right involvement with recognition efforts began taking place largely from the early 2010s onward.

Europe's Far-Right Instrumentalization of the Armenian Genocide

Memory Inversion

Subotić argues that memory inversion is a rhetorical strategy of appropriating the Holocaust to denounce the crimes of communism. Far-right elected officials appropriate the Armenian Genocide to the same end; however, I only add that, in the context of Armenian Genocide memory politics, right-wing political actors pursue the ulterior motive not only of denouncing the crimes of communism but also those of the Ottoman Empire. Two compelling cases in which this rhetorical strategy has manifested itself are Latvia and Bulgaria. In the former, political actors have used Armenian Genocide narratives to highlight the crimes of communism; in the latter, they used these narratives to criticize the crimes of the Ottoman Empire (and promote genocides acted out against the titular nationalities).

In 2021, Latvia's Saeima passed an Armenian Genocide recognition resolution. Several actors worked together to accomplish this end—the Armenian Ambassador to the Baltic countries, Armenian Latvian political staffers, and MPs across the political spectrum (Fittante 2023a). The political parties that supported this initiative included both left and right-wing factions. The more right-wing parties included the National Alliance (Nacionālā Apvienība) and the Conservatives. Both groups used memory inversion to advocate their versions of history in relation to the Second World War and communism.

The National Alliance comes out of a merger between a previously established nationalist party, For Fatherland and Freedom-Latvian National Independence Movement (Tēvzemei un Brīvībai-Latvijas Nacionālā Neatkarības Kustība, TB-LNNK) and newer All for Latvia! (Visu Latvijai!, VL), which itself formed an alliance with TB-LNNK in 2010 (Auers 2018). Ultimately, the National Alliance joined a coalition, which led to a shift away from an opposition party. The party platform consists of various nativist, authoritarian, and anti-elite tropes. From 2010 to the time of this writing, they have been continuously in parliament—ranging from 8 percent (2010) to 17 percent (2014). Between 2018 and 2022, they retained thirteen members (or 13 percent) in Latvia's Saiema.

In 2014, the New Conservatives (later, the Conservatives) formed after its leadership split from the National Alliance. In terms of their position on the political spectrum, the Conservatives are center-right. However, their agenda does include several far right-leaning tropes, such as Islamophobic and anti-elite stances. In addition, both the National Alliance and Conservative parties advocate for recognition of the Communist Genocide of Latvians. One member of the National Alliance, Edvīns Šnore, created a documentary in 2008, The Soviet Story. In the documentary, Šnore attempts to parallel the totalitarian abuses of the Soviet regime with those of Nazi Germany; the documentary calls on world leaders to condemn the Soviet regime for its genocidal acts (Mälksoo 2018).

For many years, Latvian MPs associated Armenian Genocide recognition with Armenia on account of the Russian-speaking Armenian population of Latvia and the Russian-speaking political party, Saskaņa or Harmony (Fittante 2023a). However, in the late 2010s, several actors shifted this association and passed a parliamentary resolution recognizing the Armenian Genocide. Among those who worked on this resolution were National Alliance and Conservative MPs. They used memory inversion as their primary rhetorical strategy in justifying their support. Armenian Genocide recognition provided Latvian political actors the opportunity to promote the Communist Genocide of Latvians under the pretense of furthering a humanitarian, pro-Western cause.

Several Latvian nationalists played central roles in ensuring the memory law passed. For example, the chairperson of the Foreign Affairs Committee, MP Rihards Kols, numbered among the most important in creating the content for the resolution (Fittante 2023a). While it was frequently noted to me that Kols is comparatively moderate, he identified the strategic efficacy of appropriating Armenian Genocide recognition. On the day of the hearings, he argued as follows:

Even today, Latvians have to realize and reflect on the historical trauma of the land, nation, family. We know what crimes against humanity are, and it is important not to forget that other nations also have such experiences. This is not a matter of barter, mutual benefit, or petty political points.⁴

In a measured speech, Kols subtly uses memory of the Armenian Genocide to make a point about Latvian history. By supporting Armenian Genocide recognition, Kols substantiates historical claims in relationship to Latvia's communist history and the injustices suffered.

Still, not everyone from the National Alliance supported Armenian Genocide recognition. In fact, many continued to associate Armenian Genocide recognition with Russia (and Harmony), and, as such, staunchly opposed the recognition. In a personal interview, Kols explained to me not only the opposition from other National Alliance MPs but also reiterated, among those who opposed it, how the resolution operated as a form of memory inversion for those who did support it:

You have to understand why certain MPs or political parties were against it. It's not against the factual things; it's about Armenia, currently, where they stand when it comes to values and principles. If we look right now, the Russian war in Ukraine, and Armenia's vote in the UN, etc. But from my understanding, you know, our country, our people, we suffered similar atrocities committed against our people during the Second World War and after the Second World War, as well—forced deportations, you know. And we cannot look at these kinds of atrocities and sound indifferent. No, it's the same thing. That's why we also recognize Russia's current crimes in Ukraine as a genocide.

To be sure, the Republic of Armenia does work to spread Armenian Genocide awareness and recognition. This is particularly the case among its diplomatic personnel abroad. In fact, in Latvia, the momentum for this resolution was initiated by the former Armenian Ambassador to the Baltic countries, Tigran Mkrtchyan (Fittante 2023a). Nonetheless, as Kols articulated to me, many National Alliance MPs continued to associate Armenia with Russia. And, for this reason, several opposed the recognition. Still, for those who did support the resolution, Kols identified how the Armenian Genocide acted as a form of memory inversion—that is, it provided a context to address the atrocities Soviets carried out against Latvians during and after the Second World War. By creating a parallel between the Armenian Genocide and the Communist Genocide of Latvians (“No, it's the same thing”), Kols and other nationalist actors sought to verify and add weight to their own claims. Importantly, the interview took place during Russia's war in Ukraine, and Kols pivoted to more contemporary atrocities to make the same point about Latvian history.

Some National Alliance MPs like Kols were not the only Latvian political actors, who supported Armenian Genocide recognition to verify their own claims about Latvian historical injustices. Another key proponent of the resolution, Conservative MP Juriss Jurašs, argued the following:

An honest analysis of history is vital to avoid history's tragic mistakes and crimes against humanity. If we want other nations to stand in solidarity with us in remembering the important events of our history, then we ourselves must show solidarity with those who still have to fight for the expression of historical truth.⁵

In his speech, Jurašs justifies the recognition of the Armenian Genocide to validate his claims regarding the Communist Genocide of Latvians (“If we want other nations to stand in solidarity … ”). The state-sanctioned memory of the Armenian Genocide acts as proof of Jurašs’ ulterior claim that the Soviets committed a genocide against Latvians. In Latvia, the opportunistic ways in which right-leaning MPs appropriated Armenian Genocide recognition resembles what political actors have done with Holocaust memory laws (Subotić’s 2019). However, right-wing MPs use memory inversion in the context of Armenian Genocide recognition to condemn the crimes of other regimes—namely, the Ottoman Empire. This has proven consistently true in Bulgaria.

To date, Bulgaria has not officially recognized the Armenian Genocide. However, in 2015, an ideologically diverse range of MPs worked together—for very different reasons—to pressure the ruling party at the time—Citizens for European Development of Bulgaria (GERB)—to modify its language about the Armenian Genocide (Fittante 2022a). Among those supporting the resolution were several far-right parties, such as Ataka and the National Front for the Salvation of Bulgaria (NFSB).

Since the end of communism, far-right parties have consistently featured in Bulgaria's political landscape, but they have become especially prominent since the early 2010s (Krasteva,2020). The strong presence of these parties relates, in part, to the Syrian migration crisis, Bulgaria's history in the Ottoman Empire, and the Turkish population in Bulgaria (as well as the predominantly Turkish ethnic party, Movement for Rights and Freedom or MRF). The latter, as Ekaterina Rashkova and Emilia Zankina argue, “create favourable conditions for radical right parties to organise and rally against” (Rashkova and Emilia Zankina 2017, 854). As a result, Bulgarian right-leaning officials have mobilized around the topics of Muslim immigration, Euroscepticism, and Turkish political influence (Krasteva 2016; 2020).

One of the first and most long-lasting far-right political parties to emerge in the Bulgarian political mainstream is Ataka. Founded in 2005 by the former journalist Volen Siderov, Ataka has an eclectic array of policies (Ghodsee 2008; Krasteva 2016); however, among those most central to its platform include the supremacy of the state, the institutionalization of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church, and the nationalization of manufacture. Another key point relates to Turkey. Siderov has frequently claimed that Bulgaria remains under Turkish control directly and by proxy (through the MRF party and Bulgarian political parties working with MRF officials). As such, anti-Turkish rhetoric has played an integral role in Ataka’s outreach (Avramov 2015). Ataka was also one of the first Bulgarian political parties to support Armenian Genocide recognition, and its MPs have proposed and debated parliamentary recognition several times from 2005 onward (Fittante 2022a).

For Ataka members, Armenian Genocide recognition has become a convenient expedient for memory entrepreneurs to pursue an ulterior goal—namely, to promote their own genocide recognition. As such, memory inversion has consistently been featured in their parliamentary speeches. This long-standing strategy began in 2005. By 2015, Siderov claimed to have submitted recognition resolutions to parliament eight times in ten years.⁶ Throughout these years, Siderov maintained similar positions, which revolved around memory inversion. As in Latvia, memory inversion provides Bulgarian far-right MPs an opportunity to promote their own claims; however, these claims do not pertain to communism or the Soviet Union. In a parliamentary speech from 2007, Siderov outlined his intentions clearly:

Today, of course, we can commemorate this bloody anniversary of the massacre of one and a half million Armenians. The question is, what do we actually do, though? Why does the Bulgarian parliament delay to this day and does not want to accept this declaration in the face of the ruling majority, does not want to recognize the genocide, the killing of one and a half million Armenians? / In the same way, the Bulgarian parliament will probably react to the draft decision that we in our parliamentary group are preparing. It is very interesting for me to see what the reaction of the majority will be. It is about the project for a decision to recognize the massacre of the Thracian Bulgarians in 1913 by the Turkish state as genocide. This genocide must be recognized by the Bulgarian parliament, but I doubt that in this composition this ruling majority will recognize it. It will be rejected again, I guess, because today we have as a ruling party a party that protects the interests of the state of Turkey—this is MRF.⁷

In this lengthy excerpt, Siderov introduces the Armenian Genocide (and the Bulgarian Parliament's unwillingness to recognize it) as a preamble to discuss his ulterior agenda—namely, to promote the recognition of the 1913 Thracian Massacre of Bulgarians as genocide—that is, by the Ottoman Empire. By appropriating Armenian Genocide memory, Siderov attempts to condemn the Ottoman Empire rather than communism (or Soviet Russia). In the context of the Ottoman (rather than communist) history, Ataka’s appropriation of the Armenian Genocide resembles closely memory inversion regarding Holocaust-related memories. However, in Bulgaria, far-right political actors instrumentalize the Armenian Genocide to pursue agenda items that occur less directly in memory politics related to the Holocaust. Rather, the Armenian Genocide has become a powerful instrument to promote the far right's own “victimhood nationalism” (Lerner 2020) and pursue genocide recognition of the 1913 Thracian Massacre of Bulgarians.

Memory Justification

For several far-right parties in Bulgaria, the Armenian Genocide not only provides an opportunity to promote the Thracian Genocide of Bulgarians; it also serves as an instrument to attack the ethnic political party, MRF, as well as the Turkish state. In this way, Bulgarian far-right political actors use the Armenian Genocide for purposes of memory justification—that is, to legitimize attacks against Turkey and Turkish officials—both in Bulgaria and in Turkey.

There exist compendious parliamentary data featuring Ataka MPs using the Armenian Genocide for this purpose.⁸ But other Bulgarian parties have followed suit. One example of this is the NFSB. Founded in 2011, the NFSB is another far-right party with similar policies as Ataka, such as strong stances against immigration, Muslims, and the Roma population. Ataka is more openly pro-Russian and Eurosceptic than the NFSB, but, otherwise, they share many of the same social policies.

One of the founders of the NFSB, Valeri Simeonov, has led the Armenian-Bulgarian parliamentary friendship group; in addition, he has been awarded the Mkhitar Gosh Medal, which the Armenian President gives to individuals “for outstanding state and social-political activities, as well as for significant services in the spheres of diplomacy, law and political science.”⁹ Simeonov and others from the NFSB have also proven among the most vociferous advocates of Armenian Genocide recognition. In a parliamentary session from 2015, Simeonov said the following:

You cannot represent Europe either, because both the European Parliament and the parliaments and heads of state of many countries in Europe and the world have condemned the Armenian Genocide. / So do you represent the Republic of Turkey and its people here in the Bulgarian Parliament? You probably think so, but here too the answer is: “No”!¹⁰

Simeonov implies that, by not recognizing the Armenian Genocide, Bulgaria is conducting itself like Turkey rather than Europe. As with the speeches of several other Bulgarian MPs, the Armenian Genocide is linked with European behavior, and, inversely, not recognizing it is akin to representing the interests of the Turkish state (or behaving in a fashion similar to the Turkish state). Bulgarian right-leaning political actors therefore consistently use Armenian Genocide memories to criticize their more pro-Turkish adversaries and alienate Turkey from Europe—or to demonstrate that the former does not belong in Europe.

Far-right parties are not the only Bulgarian MPs to instrumentalize the Armenian Genocide as a gauge to measure Bulgarian “Europeanness”; however, their use of memory justification is distinct: As with Simeonov and other Bulgarian political actors, who have used similar rhetoric, claims to Europeanness or European values cover an ulterior agenda of isolating Turks—Turks in Bulgaria, MRF officials, and Turkish officials in Turkey (Fittante 2022a). While the underlying intention pertains to a strong anti-Muslim sentiment, this form of memory justification makes common cause with more liberal, pro-EU MPs, who support Armenian Genocide recognition. And, as the speeches of Siderov, Simeonov, and others reflect, memory justification lends a semblance of moral superiority over the political opponents, who continue to cooperate with Turkey despite its leadership's human rights violations.

In Bulgaria, memory justification is a consistent rhetorical strategy that resonates, in part, on account of the country's history within the Ottoman Empire. However, far-right political actors employ the same rhetorical strategy in European spaces that do not share this part of Ottoman history. One example in which this takes place is the Czech Republic.

The Czech Republic has officially recognized the Armenian Genocide twice—in 2017 and 2020 (Vartazaryan 2022). In both cases, the recognitions occurred as amended resolutions in governmental acts about the Holocaust and the Second World War. The first recognition occurred in the Chamber of Deputies (Lower House) in 2017 and the second in the Senate (Upper House) in 2020. Far-right political actors were not the main forces spearheading these initiatives; however, these actors have relied on Armenian Genocide memory for their own reasons.

The Czech Republic is somewhat distinct from many other Central and Eastern European countries in that far-right parties have played—until recently—such a small role. Distinct from Bulgaria or Latvia, Islam, the Ottoman Empire, and the Soviet state play less prominent roles in the history of the Czech Republic. In addition, distinct from several other countries in Europe, the Czech Republic quickly and effectively transitioned post-communism, politically and economically. Furthermore, their transition ultimately meant adhering to expectations for NATO, the EU, and Holocaust restitution. For this reason, most Holocaust-related initiatives—memory laws, transitional justice, etc.—have received broad-based support. While nationalists have opposed or appropriated Holocaust-related initiatives to pursue their own agendas in several post-communist European countries, this has largely not been true of the Czech Republic (Frankl 2017).

Nonetheless, far-right sentiment has increased significantly since the Syrian immigration crisis (Slačálek and Svobodová 2018). As with Poland, Hungary, and Slovakia, the Czech Republic rejected refugee quotas. In 2013, Miloš Zeman (the Party of Civic Rights) won in the presidential election and the Action of Dissatisfied Citizens Party (ANO) gained seats in parliament. Founded by the billionaire businessman, Andrej Babiš, ANO finished second place in the 2013 parliamentary elections. Given its inconsistent policies, ANO is not easily defined on the political spectrum. At different periods, it has touted Eurosceptic as well as pro-EU policies. As with other relatively recently formed parties across Europe (such as the Five Star Movement in Italy), ANO is ideologically eclectic.

From the early 2010s, anti-Muslim protests broke out and new Islamophobic political parties arose in the Czech Republic. While not easy to define in terms of right and left, the rhetoric of ANO increasingly reinforced the sentiments of far-right policies, particularly as regards Muslims (Vachudova 2019). By 2017, ANO's popularity had increased, and it won approximately 30 percent of seats. In the process, ANO beat more traditional center-right and center-left parties—namely, the Civic Democratic Party (ODS) and the Czech Social Democratic Party. These parties had governed since the early 1990s. After the election, Zeman and Babiš joined forces and their respective parties formed a coalition government.

ANO MPs and President Zeman have articulated anti-immigrant positions (Pehe 2018). They have also used the Armenian Genocide—through memory justification—to criticize Turkey. For example, in 2016, ANO MP Zdeněk Soukup proposed the Czech Republic's Lower Chamber recognize the Armenian Genocide to send a clear message to Turkey:

Therefore, I call on the Chamber of Deputies to send an absolutely clear message to the European Union and Turkey that the Czech Republic will not retreat from basic values, from the principles of democracy and humanism, and will not bend the laws. Where to start? Perhaps an insurmountable condition for Turkey, that it must come to terms with the darker shadows of its past.¹¹

Responding to continued EU accession talks with Turkey, Soukup instrumentalizes the Armenian Genocide as a means to criticize Turkey and its many transgressions of basic “European values.” Soukup's proposal was rejected. It took a very different strategy among Czech Social Democrats in both the Lower Chamber (2017) and Senate (2020) to accomplish Armenian Genocide recognition—namely, by writing Armenian Genocide recognition into governmental acts, in part, dealing with the Holocaust and the Second World War.¹² Nonetheless, Soukup's proposal reflects how Armenian Genocide memory in the Czech Republic can be used to create political distance between Europe and Turkey.

But perhaps the most openly vociferous party about the Armenian Genocide is also its most anti-immigrant, Islamophobic political party, Freedom and Direct Democracy (SPD). Its founder, Tomio Okamura, himself an immigrant, was born in Tokyo to a Czech mother and a Japanese–Korean father. As with several Bulgarian MPs, Okamura uses memory justification to criticize his political foes, whom he accuses of abetting the crimes of Turkish officials. In several social media posts and in parliamentary speeches, Okamura consistently criticizes other Czech MPs for cooperating with an authoritarian Turkish state. The memory of the Armenian Genocide legitimates SPD and other far-right claims. While Okamura certainly does demonize Muslims (see below), Armenian Genocide memory politics is used to highlight his projected moral superiority as compared to other Czech MPs, who do not take (public) issue with the human rights abuses of Turkey's leadership.

Still, by promoting the Armenian Genocide through memory justification, Okamura is seeking another political goal—namely, to alienate Turkey from Europe and NATO. As in other European countries, Armenian Genocide memory validates Okamura's larger claim that Turkey does not belong in Europe (or the “West”). He consistently makes this claim in parliamentary speeches as well as in social media. For example, in a social media post from March 20, 2020, Okamura states the following:

The SPD movement refuses to support Turkey in its aggressive actions and calls for its exclusion from NATO. If NATO decided to support Turkey in a war with Russia, it would be a conflict in complete contradiction to the existential interests of the Czech Republic and in contradiction to the wording of the NATO treaty. The Czech Republic must not get involved in such a conflict. / The borders of European countries must be secured and guarded against another wave of migration. We must respond to the wave of migration caused by Turkey as decisively as Hungary.¹³

It is in this context of attempting to alienate Turkey from the EU and NATO that, for several Czech far-right political actors, the Armenian Genocide becomes a useful rhetorical instrument.

Memory Extrapolation

But SPD officials' instrumentalization goes even further than memory justification; their rhetoric also lends itself to the demonization of Muslims. SPD MPs have gone as far as to call to ban Islam in the Czech Republic and to leave the EU altogether (Kim 2020). Indeed, separation between Muslims and Europe is a key part of SPD MP's platform. As Ondřej Slačálek and Eva Svobodová (2018) argue, one of the central themes of the Czech Republic's far right's platform is political alienation: “There is no sharing of political community with it; indeed, the ultimate aim of the movement's campaign is to ensure that the political community is not shared with it” (486, 2018). It is in this context—in relationship to Islamophobia and anti-Turkish sentiment—that SPD officials have also consistently instrumentalized the Armenian Genocide. That is, they use memory extrapolation to demonize Muslims and Muslim immigrants.

In a statement on the SPD web page, Okamura states the following about the Armenian Genocide:

We should not only officially name the hundred-year-old Turkish crimes, but at the same time it is also necessary to truthfully name the present. We should officially open our eyes and say that the Turks are committing genocide and war crimes against the Kurds, hunting them like animals - bombing their villages and terrorizing them for decades just because they want to remain Kurdish. Of course, the Turks brutally oppress not only the Kurds, but also other minorities and also the minority of democratically minded Turks. The Turkish government tortures, murders opponents and suppresses any free opinion. We need to talk about this in order to know what kind of criminal regime the European Commission and the Sobotka and Babiš governments are colluding with.¹⁴

Okamura employs memory extrapolation to essentialize Turks as preparators of genocides and war crimes. Linking Ottoman atrocities acted out against Armenians to those that Turks act out against Kurds, Okamura characterizes the latter as intrinsically transgressive. He describes the crimes Ottoman officials inflicted on Armenians (and others) to describe Turks’ behavior toward Kurds.

Interestingly, in his efforts to isolate Turkey from Europe (and the “West”) and criticize Turkish leadership, Okamura emphasizes the plight of Kurds, who are a predominantly Sunni Muslim population. Distinct from what Brubaker anticipates, Czech populism, at least here, empathizes with Turkish minorities (both Christian and Muslim). In other speeches and posts, too, he speaks to Turkish officials’ oppression of other Turks: “Of course, the Turks brutally oppress not only the Kurds, but also other minorities and also the minority of democratically minded Turks. The Turkish government tortures, murders opponents and suppresses any free opinion.”¹⁵ While SPD actors typically maintain staunchly Islamophobic rhetoric, it is interesting that, in its appropriation of the Armenian Genocide, some members send contradictory messages of support and sympathy to other Muslim groups.

Still, far-right appropriation and instrumentalization of the Armenian Genocide are not limited to post-communist Europe. For example, in Sweden, some from the far right partake of memory extrapolation to confront and combat the perceived threat posed by Muslim immigrants. At first glance, Sweden may seem a somewhat unlikely place in which political actors would partake of these “memory wars” (Koposov 2017; Belavusau, Gliszczynska-Grabias, Mälksoo 2021). Historically, Sweden has been recognized as exemplary for its welfare programs, gender equality, environmental protectionism, multicultural policies, and human rights achievements (Pierre 2015). More recent scholarship, however, has noted a decline in these associations (Rydgren and Van der Meiden 2019). With rising crime and right-wing politics, Sweden now shares many of the same problems, which occur throughout Europe (Norocel 2016; Adamson 2020). Scholars have referred to these trends as the “end of Swedish exceptionalism” (Schierup and Ålund 2011).

Sweden's Riksdag recognized the 1915 Genocide in 2010. In so doing, it became the first parliamentary recognition, which included Assyrians and Greeks. However, the central government of Sweden has remained staunchly opposed to do the same. In fact, Swedish governmental leadership, as elsewhere, has renounced the parliamentary resolution (Fittante 2023b). Given this dynamic, several Swedish MPs have continued to rally for Genocide recognition since 2010. Among the most supportive Swedish MPs have been the Sweden Democrats. The Sweden Democrats entered the Riskdag in 2010 with 5.7 percent of the vote; by 2022, they had achieved nearly 20 percent of the vote.

In terms of party ideology, the Sweden Democrats seek to create cohesion in Sweden at least in terms of its members sharing the same values (Hellström, Nilsson, and Stolz 2012). As such, a primary focus of the Sweden Democrats is to reduce immigration to and deport immigrants out of Sweden. MPs from the party put a great deal of energy into demonizing Sweden's foreign-born populations; however, they specifically target Muslim immigrants as the source of Sweden's most significant social problems. While the Sweden Democrats tend to be associated as anti-immigrant, many members, in fact, promote immigration among non-Muslim populations. This includes Christians from predominantly Muslim countries. For this reason, the party generates surprisingly high levels of support among disaffected Muslims and Christian Arabs (Mulinari and Neergaard 2019).

Christian minorities from predominantly Muslim countries have become an important focus for some Sweden Democrats—particularly, by linking the projected victimhood of Swedes and Christian minority populations. Historical instances highlighting cruelty against Christian minorities prove a convenient way to partake of memory extrapolation. One of these forms is through the Armenian Genocide. For some of the party's MPs, Armenians’ experiences not only in the Ottoman Empire but also in response to contemporary Turkish denialism embody the projected characteristics in Muslim immigrants, whom Sweden Democrats claim threaten to undermine Swedish society. By championing the Armenian cause, they are, in fact, promoting their own agenda—that is, to characterize Muslims as wicked and unsavory elements of society. In addition, because Sweden has a large population of Assyrians, recognition efforts also can lead to more voter support among other victims of the 1915 Genocide while simultaneously promoting a “just” cause. For these reasons, Armenian Genocide recognition is a part of the Sweden Democrats' platform.¹⁶

Among the founders and leaders of the party, Björn Söder is the most outspoken about the Armenian Genocide (and other Armenian-related issues, such as Nagorno-Karabakh)—in fact, distinct from the Sweden Democrats more generally, he has taken on Armenian Genocide as a sort of personal crusade. Söder's interest in the 1915 Genocide began with his interactions with the former Armenian Ambassador to Armenia, Artak Apitonian. At the time (2014), he was serving as Deputy Speaker of the Riksdag. Through his interactions with Apitonian, he learned more about the Armenian Genocide and became interested in pursuing its recognition by Sweden's central government.

In my interactions with Söder, he manifested a seemingly genuine sense of attachment to Armenia and Armenians. In addition, he has received awards (such as the Mkhitar Gosh Medal) and recognition from the government of Armenia for his work in Sweden to gain Armenian (or 1915) Genocide recognition. As with Okamura in the Czech Republic, he and the other Sweden Democrats do not perceive a contradiction in their advocacy of Armenian Genocide recognition and anti-immigrant policies. In a conversation, he told me the following: “Even if we can criticize the large Muslim immigration to Sweden, we see there can be troubles here—we have a large Muslim population here—it doesn't stop us from standing up for Muslims across the world when they are being attacked. For us, it is a matter of right and wrong.” Still, he also understands the strategic utility of Armenian Genocide memory politics.

In parliamentary speeches, Söder has used memory extrapolation to advocate Genocide recognition. In a motion to recognize the Genocide that Söder put forward in October 2021, he argued the following:

The genocide took place more or less in front of open eyes and some time afterwards several were convicted of their crimes, although many were also acquitted or never even charged. Christian groups were driven from their land and much of the Christians' history was simultaneously tried to be erased by the perpetrators. / As previously mentioned, the issue is still relevant today. The Islamic State has murdered, raped, looted and enslaved people who happened to fall into its path. Many of the groups affected by the Islamic State, such as Yazidis, Assyrians, and Armenians, belong to the same people who suffered during the genocide in the Ottoman Empire. It is important for the outside world to respect the so-called forgotten genocide when there are an incredible number of testimonies and evidence that prove what crimes were committed. During the genocide, which took place between 1915 and 1922, around 1.3 million people were murdered.¹⁷

Söder uses memory extrapolation to link the crimes of the Islamic State with those of the Ottoman Empire (“the issue is still relevant today. The Islamic State has murdered, raped, looted and enslaved people … ”). By connecting the Genocide of Christian minorities in the Ottoman Empire to victims of the Islamic State, Söder essentializes Muslims, geographically and temporally. Despite the rather cavernous historical distance between the Ottoman Empire and the Islamic State, memory extrapolation creates a false sense of continuity and reifies Muslim identity as intrinsically transgressive. Memory of the Genocide fits within the party's objectives—namely, to demonize Muslims, rally support among Christian minorities from predominantly Muslim countries, and partake of virtue signaling all at once. As such, Söder and other far-right actors throughout Europe are both championing and undermining human rights simultaneously. In addition, memory extrapolation mobilizes support for the Sweden Democrats among Sweden's large population of Christian minorities from predominantly Muslim countries. In promoting Armenian Genocide recognition, Swedish political actors from the far right—and, in particular, one of its founders, Björn Söder—employ memory extrapolation as a means to recruit new voters, rally support, and promote a "just" cause.

Discussion

Exploring the rhetorical strategies of memory inversion, justification, and extrapolation, this analysis expands memory politics scholarship to explain how far-right political actors use the Armenian Genocide to advocate other genocide recognition efforts, demonize Muslims, distort history, criticize the Turkish government, and mobilize their bases. Throughout Europe (and elsewhere), the Armenian Genocide is consistently instrumentalized to serve these purposes.

Memory politics and memory laws research about the Holocaust has captured many of the goals and values dividing European actors from the 1990s; other memory laws—such as those relating to the Armenian Genocide—also shed light on evolving political challenges taking shape across Europe, particularly from the early 2010s. As with the Holocaust, memory entrepreneurs transform the memory of the Armenian Genocide and ascribe to it new attributes and meanings in making sense of their contemporary political realities (Olick and Levy 1997; Subotić 2019). For the far right, this has meant promoting a non-pluralistic version of Europe. As this analysis has shown, memory politics continues to play an important role in the way political actors construct and put forward competing versions of the countries whose realities they are attempting to shape (Fittante 2023a).

Within Europe, the cases analyzed in this article do not exhaust other areas of research. For example, in 2019, the Italian Chamber of Deputies passed its own Armenian Genocide recognition. This took place during the 14-month period in which the League (Lega) and the Five Star Movement (Movimento 5 Stelle) formed a coalition government; and, indeed, while the motion received nearly unanimous support among elected officials from the left, League MPs played a decisive role in the successful passage of this resolution.¹⁸ Even outside of Europe, Armenian Genocide recognition instrumentalization occurs for similar reasons. For example, in 2013, the government of New South Wales, Australia, recognized the Genocides of the Armenian, Assyrian, and Greek populations in the Ottoman Empire. Some Australian elected officials from the Christian Democratic Party and Liberal Party had nativist and Islamophobic reasons for supporting the recognition (Fittante 2022b). In addition, reactionary recognitions have likely taken place in non-Western countries, such as Libya in 2019.¹⁹ As such, this analysis leaves room for future scholarship to continue unpacking the appropriation and instrumentalization of Armenian Genocide memory laws inside and outside of Europe.

This analysis also makes several other broader conceptual contributions. First, the findings of this research provide new insights into how the far right simulates (or, perhaps in some cases, genuinely feels) empathy and appeals to prospective voters. While Armenian Genocide memory appropriation occurs in different geopolitical contexts, far-right political actors’ instrumentalization shares many of the same features. In each case, far-right MPs seek to project a compassionate, humanitarian image of themselves and their intentions. At the same time, they appoint themselves, as Brubaker argues (2017), defenders of civilization and saviors against Muslims and/or Turkey (and its projected influence in Europe). This rhetoric proves consistently effective in mobilizing support among titular nationalities in very different contexts. As such, this analysis begins to examine the emotional appeal or brand the far right attempts to construct and disseminate. Armenian Genocide memory is consistently an effective tool through which these actors project moral superiority and establish themselves as the “sole representatives” of the titular nationalities (Ugur-Cinar and Altınok 2021)—that is, memory politics regarding the Armenian Genocide enables them, rhetorically, to humanize themselves in their campaigns to demonize others. Scholars should continue unpacking the Janus-faced rhetoric of memory entrepreneurs and the role it plays in mobilizing far-right bases.

Second, this expanded conceptualization adds to what scholars have said about contentious memory politics creating a unified Europe (Sierp 2023). By unpacking rhetoric about the Armenian Genocide across Europe, we find memory politics at the center of the debate over what it means to be European. Debates over memory pit liberally minded actors, who seek to validate the presence of multicultural, multiracial members of society, against Islamophobic nativists, who seek, in their own conceptualizations, to preserve and defend Christian traditions from Muslim newcomers (Brubaker 2017). Each side's distinct views articulate what it means to be recognized as European (or “Western”). And these views get articulated through the construction and advocacy of memory laws—oftentimes, political actors from opposite ends of the political spectrum will construct and advocate the same memory law—as in the case of Armenian Genocide recognition (Fittante 2023a)—for very different reasons. Through their reconstructions, diverse actors across the political spectrum rely on these state-sanctioned interpretations of history to define the present and foreseeable future. As such, a more expanded conceptualization of memory politics reveals the competing views at stake in a unified Europe, a space in political crisis (Brubaker 2017; Adler-Nissen and Zarakol 2021).

Third, this research sheds new light on scholars’ important analyses of contemporary right-wing politics (Savage 2012; Brubaker 2017). As Brubaker notes, populists identify as Christians to manifest alterity with Muslims rather than to express religious conviction. As such, this narrative creates the overdetermined clash of civilization dialectic (Huntington 1996). However, in the Czech Republic, some Islamophobic MPs instrumentalize the Armenian Genocide to condemn the Turkish government. Through memory extrapolation, they liken the Ottoman authorities to contemporary Turkish leadership. And, in substantiating this claim, they identify Turkish treatment of Kurds and other Turks—that is, other Muslim groups. As in Bulgaria, this rhetoric works to criticize political opponents, who are perceived as susceptible to Turkish influence despite the state's clear and consistent human rights violations. But the parallel between Armenians and Kurds (and, as Tomio Okamura has said, “other democratically minded Turks”) complicates the Christian–Muslim binary that recurs in the scholarship. Future scholarship should continue unpacking the nuances and contradictions of far-right discourse.

Footnotes

1

In differentiating terms, Cas Mudde argues the following: “Accepting that there will never be an academic, let alone a public consensus on highly charged terms like ‘far right’ and ‘populism,’ let me briefly discuss my understandings of the categories. Simply stated, I use ‘far right’ as an umbrella concept for both the extreme and radical right. The main distinction between ‘extreme’ and ‘radical’ has to do with acceptance of the basic tenets of democracy—that is, popular sovereignty and majority rule. While extremism rejects democracy altogether, radicalism accepts democracy but rejects liberal democracy—that is, pluralism and minority rights” (98, 2014). Similarly, in this analysis, I use the term "far right" to describe a range of parties, such as those often characterized as extreme and radical right.

2

One example in Europe of a populist political party spearheading Armenian Genocide recognition took place in Italy's 2019 parliamentary resolution. While very strongly supported by MPs on the left, members from Salvini's League Party (and other right-wing, populist parties) played central roles in the creation and passage of this recognition act.

3

While the Holocaust has been a consistent focus of memory laws in Europe, some scholars have noted that the first memory law could be attributed to the May 1915 Triple Entente declaration, which condemned the Armenian Genocide and threatened reprisals (Koposov 2017).

4

Original: Latviešiem vēl šodien nākas apzināties un reflektēt par pašu zemes, tautas, dzimtas vēsturisko traumu. Mēs zinām, kas ir noziegumi pret cilvēci, un ir svarīgi neaizmirst, ka šāda pieredze ir arī citām tautām. Tas nav bartera, savstarpējā izdevīguma, nedz sīku, mazsvarīgu politisku punktu jautājums (https://www.saeima.lv/lv/transcripts/view/2244).

5

Original: Godīga vēstures analīze ir vitāli nepieciešama, lai nepieļautu vēstures traģiskās kļūdas un noziegumus pret cilvēci. Ja vēlamies, lai citas tautas ir solidāras ar mums mūsu vēstures svarīgo notikumu atcerē, tad arī mums pašiem ir jāizrāda solidaritāte ar tiem, kuriem vēl ir jācīnās par vēsturiskās patiesības paušanu (https://www.saeima.lv/lv/transcripts/view/2244).

6

For report, see https://news.bg/politics/siderov-v-erevan-turskoto-posolstvo-natiska-sofiya-da-ne-priznava-genotsida.html.

7

Original: Днес, разбира се, можем да отчетем с паметни слова тази кървава годишнина от избиването на един милион и половина арменци. Въпросът е какво правим на дело обаче? Защо българският парламент до ден-днешен се бави и не иска да приеме в лицето на управляващото мнозинство тази декларация, не иска да признае геноцида, избиването на милион и половина арменци?/По същия начин българският парламент вероятно ще реагира и на проекта за решение, което ние от нашата парламентарна група готвим. За мен е много интересно да видя каква ще бъде реакцията на мнозинството. Става дума за проекта за решение за признаване на геноцид избиването на тракийските българи през 1913 г. от турската държава. Този геноцид трябва да бъде признат от българския парламент, но аз се съмнявам, че в този състав това управляващо мнозинство ще го признае. Отново ще бъде отхвърлено, предполагам, защото ние имаме днес за управляваща партия една партия, която защитава интересите на държавата Турция—това е ДПС (https://parliament.bg/en/plenaryst/ns/2/ID/290).

8

See https://www.parliament.bg/en.

9

See https://www.president.am/en/medals/15/.

10

Original: Няма как да представлявате и Европа, защото както Европейският парламент, така и парламентите и държавните ръководители на много страни в Европа и света осъдиха Арменския геноцид./Тогава Република Турция и нейния народ ли представлявате тук, в българския парламент? Сигурно така си мислите, но и тук отговорът е: „Не”! (https://parliament.bg/bg/plenaryst/ns/51/ID/5375).

11

Original: Proto vyzývám Poslaneckou sněmovnu, aby vyslala Evropské unii i Turecku naprosto jasné poselství, že Česká republika nebude ustupovat od základních hodnot, od principů demokracie a humanismu, nebude ohýbat zákony. Čím začít? Třeba nepřekročitelnou podmínkou pro Turecko, že se musí vyrovnat s temnějšími stíny své minulosti (https://www.psp.cz/eknih/2013ps/stenprot/048schuz/s048005.htm#r6).

12

I unpack this strategy more closely in a forthcoming publication.

13

Original: Hnutí SPD odmítá podporovat Turecko v jeho agresivních akcích a žádá jeho vyloučení z NATO. Pokud by se NATO rozhodlo podpořit Turecko ve válce s Ruskem jde o konflikt v naprostém rozporu s existenčními zájmy České republiky a v rozporu se zněním smlouvy NATO. Česká republika se to takového konfliktu nesmí zapojit./Hranice evropských zemí je nutné zajistit a střežit proti další vlně migrace. Na Tureckem vyvolávanou vlnu migrace musíme odpovědět stejně rozhodně jako Maďarsko (https://www.facebook.com/tomio.cz/photos/a.185333081477515/3193927617284698/?type=3).

14

Original: My bychom měli nejen pojmenovat oficiálně sto let staré turecké zločiny, ale zároveň je také nutné pravdivě pojmenovat současnost. Měli bychom oficiálně otevřít oči a říct, že Turci páchají genocidu a válečné zločiny na Kurdech, pořádají na ně hony jako na zvířata—bombardují jejich vesnice a po desetiletí je terorizují jen za to, že chtějí zůstat Kurdy.Turci samozřejmě brutálně utlačují nejen Kurdy, ale i další menšiny a také menšinu demokraticky smýšlejících Turků. Oponenty turecká vláda mučí, vraždí a potlačuje jakýkoli svobodný názor. O tom musíme mluvit, abychom věděli, s jakým zločinným režimem se Evropská komise a Sobotkova a Babišova vláda paktuje (https://www.spd.cz/tomio-okamura-uznejme-genocidu-armenu-pachanou-turky/).

15

Original: Turci samozřejmě brutálně utlačují nejen Kurdy, ale i další menšiny a také menšinu demokraticky smýšlejících Turků. Oponenty turecká vláda mučí, vraždí a potlačuje jakýkoli svobodný názor. O tom musíme mluvit, abychom věděli, s jakým zločinným režimem se Evropská komise a Sobotkova, Babišova a Bělobrádkova vláda paktuje./A já vás prosím o podporu našeho hnutí SPD v klíčových říjnových volbách, abychom mohli změnit politiku v České republice směrem ke spravedlnosti pro všechny naše občany (https://www.spd.cz/tomio-okamura-prosazuji-aby-cr-uznala-genocidu-krestanskych-armenu-pachanou-muslimskymi-turky/).

16

The Sweden Democrats entered the Riksdag for the first time in 2010—the same year the Riksdag passed its own Armenian Genocide recognition resolution (Fittante 2023b). As such, they played no role in this resolution. While they have continued advocating for the central government to recognize the 1915 Genocide, their efforts, to date, have not yielded any new legislation.

17

Original: ”Folkmordet skedde mer eller mindre inför öppna ögon och en tid efteråt dömdes flera skyldiga för sina brott, även om många också frigavs eller aldrig ens blev åtalade. Kristna grupper fördrevs från sin mark och mycket av de kristnas historia försökte förövarna samtidigt sudda ut./Som tidigare nämnts är frågan aktuell än idag. Islamiska staten har mördat, våldtagit, plundrat och förslavat människor som råkat hamna i dess väg. Många av de grupper som drabbats av Islamiska staten, som yazidier, assyrier och armenier, tillhör samma folk som drabbades under folkmordet i Osmanska riket. Det är viktigt för omvärlden att respektera det s.k. bortglömda folkmordet när det finns otroligt många vittnesmål och bevis som bevisar vilka brott som begåtts. Under folkmordet, som pågick mellan 1915 och 1922, mördades runt 1,3 miljoner människor” (https://www.riksdagen.se/sv/dokument-lagar/dokument/motion/erkannande-av-folkmord_H9022555).

18

Indeed, apart from some abstentions among MPs from Berlusconi's Forward Italy (Forza Italia) party, Italy's 2019 resolution passed with near unanimous support.

19

For a journalistic assessment of Libya's recognition, see Harut Sassonian, “Libya's Interim Government Recognizes the Armenian Genocide Once Again.” The Armenian Weekly, May 12. Accessed January 7, 2023. https://armenianweekly.com/2020/05/12/libyas-interim-government-recognizes-the-armenian-genocide-once-again/.

Author Biography

Daniel Fittante is a Postdoctoral Fellow in the Department of Sociology at Södertörn University, Sweden. His research areas include immigrant political incorporation, memory politics, and diaspora studies. Drawing from the example of Armenians in Southern California, his first book, Ethnopolitical Entrepreneurs: Outsiders inside Armenian Los Angeles, unpacks how the political incorporation of newcomers in suburbs (or “ethnoburbs”) is redefining the political landscape of the United States.

Notes

Author's note: This article was made possible with support from The Foundation for Baltic and East European Studies (Östersjöstiftelsen) at Södertörn University, Sweden.