23 August marks the European Day of Remembrance for Victims of Totalitarian Regimes \u2013 a day on which we pay tribute to those who suffered as a result of the violence of totalitarian systems in the 20th century - systems based on control, repression and ideological enslavement.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This year's campaign \"Remember. 23 August\", organised by the European Network Remembrance and Solidarity, focuses on intergenerational trauma \u2013 one of the most complex aspects of historical heritage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Although it leaves no visible scars, it can permeate generations and influence entire societies, shaping relationships, identities, ways of thinking and reacting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
ENRS has invited a renowned scholar to reflect on this topic: **Professor Micha\u0142 Bilewicz**, a social psychologist and author of the book *Traumaland*, a study on the social effects of violence and collective memory.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
**ENRS, Mariola Cyra:** *What exactly is intergenerational trauma?*<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Prof. Micha\u0142 Bilewicz:<\/strong> Prof. Micha\u0142 Bilewicz: In psychology, **intergenerational trauma** is the phenomenon of transmitting traumatic experiences from one generation to the next \u2014 not only in a narrative sense, but primarily on a psychological level, affecting the mental health of descendants.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This phenomenon became the focus of intensive study in the 1970s and 1980s, particularly in Israel. At that time, it was noticed that veterans returning from the war in Lebanon, whose parents were Holocaust survivors, showed significantly stronger symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) than those whose parents had not had such experiences.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Research conducted at the time by Solomon, Kotler and Mikulincera showed that trauma can affect the sensitivity of subsequent generations to stressors, causing them to react more strongly to new, difficult situations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Systematic studies on this phenomenon are still ongoing in Israel. Among others, there is a research panel involving **descendants of Holocaust survivors** and individuals with identical demographic profiles, but from families without such traumatic experiences \u2014 such as those who lived in the former Soviet Union or the Middle East during times of war.<\/p>\n\n\n\n They are regularly surveyed, both in everyday situations and during times of crisis. In stressful situations, the differences become clear: descendants of survivors are more likely to experience mood swings, anxiety, symptoms of depression, or PTSD.<\/p>\n\n\n\n At the same time, meta-analyses by Professor van IJzendoorn show that under everyday conditions, there are no significant differences in mental health between descendants of trauma victims and people from families without such experiences. The differences only appear in their responses to stressors \u2014 and this heightened sensitivity to threats is one of the key mechanisms of intergenerational trauma.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This clinical perspective is only one part of understanding the phenomenon. I am also interested in the social consequences of this trauma, such as lack of trust, a tendency to believe in conspiracy theories, hypersensitivity, and anxiety. These are not merely mental disorders \u2014 they are manifestations of social functioning shaped by the legacy of past traumas.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Question: To what extent have totalitarian regimes left marks not only in history but also in the psychology of society? Can we speak of post-traumatic societies?<\/a><\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Prof. Micha\u0142 Bilewicz:<\/strong> Yes, we can definitely talk about such societies. In cross-cultural psychiatry, and increasingly in psychology, the term **historical trauma** is used in this context, which differs from intergenerational trauma.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The first mainly refers to the psychological or psychiatric effects transmitted from generation to generation. Meanwhile, historical trauma is a broader phenomenon that includes the ways societies adapt to extreme experiences\u2014war, occupation, ethnic cleansing, or genocide\u2014and how these adaptations persist even when external conditions change.<\/p>\n\n\n\n After the end of a war or the fall of a regime, people formally return to normal life, but their social functioning continues to bear the marks of those experiences. We see this, for example, in a deep lack of trust, especially toward strangers or representatives of other nations or states.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Fear and anxiety arise easily and resonate strongly, especially when connected to children or women \u2014 groups that in the past have been particularly affected by violence. In societies that have experienced mass child deaths, rapes, or other large-scale forms of violence, such threats trigger much stronger reactions \u2014 far stronger than in societies that have not endured such traumas.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Question: Although intergenerational trauma refers to the experiences of past generations, its effects can also be felt by those who have not personally experienced war, oppression, or persecution. How does this happen?<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Prof. Micha\u0142 Bilewicz:<\/strong> This is a very interesting phenomenon, well described by Michael Wohl and Jay van Bavel in their research with Canadian Jews. They observed that symptoms of intergenerational trauma appeared even in people who did not have direct Holocaust victims in their genealogy \u2014 their families lived in Canada during the war.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The key factor here was not family history, but the strength of identification with the community. People who strongly identified with the Jewish community showed more pronounced symptoms of intergenerational trauma.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This shows that the transmission of trauma is not limited to family relationships alone. Naturally, there is also the hypothesis of epigenetic transmission of trauma\u2014that is, biological adaptations inherited by subsequent generations\u2014but so far, there is little strong evidence to support this.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Cultural or social transmission is much better documented. Trauma can be passed down through family stories, silence, parental behavior, but also through education, media, commemorative rituals, or anniversaries. Cultural transmission\u2014what is said (or not said) about the past within a particular community\u2014can shape the perception of history just as much as individual family experiences.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This social dimension of trauma causes even people without any personal connection to a past tragedy to experience it as part of their identity and to react emotionally to it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Question: Can people born after 1990, who grew up in a free Europe, carry the emotional legacy of totalitarian systems? How does this manifest \u2014 in relationships, identity, <\/em><\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n Prof. Micha\u0142 Bilewicz:<\/strong> The way the new generation of Poles\u2014especially those born after 1989\u2014functions is truly interesting and sometimes surprising. Research conducted by my doctoral student, Damien Stewart, an Australian who studied the phenomenon of intergenerational trauma in Poland, revealed an intriguing observation: the highest levels of intergenerational PTSD symptoms are not found among the children of those who survived the occupation, but rather in the third generation\u2014the grandchildren of those who experienced the war.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This strange phenomenon shows that trauma can resurface after a certain delay. This generation grew up in the reality of transformation and a free Poland, but also during a period of revival of traumatic memory, which began in the early 2000s with the establishment of the Warsaw Uprising Museum and later with the intensification of the narrative around the so-called Cursed Soldiers. Memories of war and violence began to strongly re-emerge in the public sphere \u2014 in popular culture, museums, and education.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Question: How can popular culture, monuments, museum narratives, and school textbooks either help heal or, conversely, deepen trauma?<\/em><\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n Prof. Micha\u0142 Bilewicz:<\/strong> When we look at school textbooks and reading lists, we notice that young people learn about the occupation mainly through the stories of Tadeusz Borowski \u2014 extremely challenging texts that depict the degraded reality of life in concentration camps, people who lost the will to live and were called \u201cMuslims\u201d in camp language, or \"dojchaga\" in camp literature. These are individuals mentally and physically destroyed, on the brink of life and death.<\/p>\n\n\n\n However, although these images are accurate, they describe extreme cases. The history of the occupation also includes people who, despite everything, tried to live, function, and adapt \u2014 under extreme conditions, yet managed to preserve their humanity. Unfortunately, education often presents this darkest fragment as the norm, leading to a distorted image of the past.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Added to this are today\u2019s immersive techniques, which are increasingly used in education and museology. Students take on the roles of victims, participate in realistic games, and experience virtual reality (VR). This can be effective educationally, but it also carries the risk of psychological overload.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In my research with young people who visited the Auschwitz-Birkenau Museum, I found that a certain percentage of students exhibited characteristic PTSD symptoms one month after the visit \u2014 difficulties sleeping, hypersensitivity, recurring images, and nightmares. It is precisely for these young people that we must ask: How can we ensure that contact with a memorial site is an educational experience and not a trauma? Remembering the past cannot be based solely on shock \u2014 its purpose should be understanding, reflection, and the ability to integrate this knowledge into a healthy identity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Question: How can we talk to children about the painful aspects of history when even a visit to a museum can trigger such strong reactions? <\/em><\/strong><\/a>What should we convey to them, and what should we avoid?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Prof. Micha\u0142 Bilewicz:<\/strong> I don\u2019t think we should avoid difficult topics or filter historical facts \u2013 that would be dishonest. Equally dangerous is to sensationalize atrocity by focusing exclusively on the most extreme and dramatic experiences, which, although true, did not represent the everyday reality for most people.\"<\/p>\n\n\n\n It is essential to tell the stories of people who, even under extreme conditions, tried to cope with the situation, preserve their dignity, help others, and resist \u2013 not necessarily with weapons in hand. Often, this resistance was silent and civil. For some, faith was a form of resistance; for others, it was culture, values, or family ties<\/p>\n\n\n\n Meanwhile, our education \u2013 both in schools and in museums \u2013 is dominated by the heroic narrative: armed resistance, uprisings, guerrilla warfare. We rarely hear about the everyday forms of survival: someone transporting meat from the village to the city to feed their family, someone hiding banned books from the occupiers, or holding secret classes. These are stories that often circulate only within families but are not passed on because they are not considered \u2018heroic.\u2019 Yet, they hold great educational potential \u2013 they show how people were able to preserve their humanity, to act, and to care for others despite violence and fear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It is important to teach children not only that evil and suffering existed, but also that people had choices, that they were capable of solidarity, that they fought to survive \u2013 and that this history is not only a history of victims, but also a history of survival and everyday courage. This helps build resilience, not only fear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Question: Isn\u2019t it silence that shapes future generations the most? Don\u2019t we often remain silent too much? I ask this question personally \u2013 I am the great-granddaughter of an officer killed in Katyn. Very little has been said about the history that shaped my family\u2019s fate.<\/em><\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n Prof. Micha\u0142 Bilewicz:<\/strong> \"It is certainly worthwhile to ask questions \u2013 and it is especially important when these questions are asked by grandchildren, the third generation. It is much more difficult for children to speak with their parents about traumatic experiences than for grandchildren to speak with their grandparents. Between grandchildren and grandparents there is often more emotional space and curiosity than resistance.\"<\/p>\n\n\n\n Just as important as the question is what we do when the answer comes. Are we truly ready to listen? Many people from the generation of victims tried to speak, but no one wanted to listen. As a result, many withdrew from these attempts. They often sought community among people with similar experiences, which led to the creation of associations of survivors of Auschwitz, Buchenwald, and Stutthof. Even though these names may sound unsettling today, they represented genuine efforts to build spaces where people did not have to talk about their trauma \u2013 it was enough simply to be with others who understood without words.\"<\/p>\n\n\n\n In the case of the Katyn families, silence was almost forced. For many years, speaking about Katyn could be not only socially isolating but also dangerous. It was a trauma pushed into the shadows \u2013 not only personal but also political. I know that studies have been conducted on how these families functioned after the war \u2013 how memories were frozen within them, passed on indirectly through emotions and behaviors, not through words.\"<\/p>\n\n\n\n Only in the 1990s and 2000s did a kind of social recognition of this memory begin to emerge. Films such as Wajda\u2019s Katyn were released, giving many families the feeling that at last they could speak. And that finally someone was listening.\"<\/p>\n\n\n\n Question: To what extent can art \u2013 literature, film, theater, photography \u2013 help in healing intergenerational trauma?\"<\/em><\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n Prof. Micha\u0142 Bilewicz<\/strong>:\"Art can play a very important role in the process of confronting and working through trauma. Sometimes it does so in a paradoxical way. If we look at the first films after the war about the occupation, we often encounter comedies. Films like Zezowate szcz\u0119\u015bcie (Bad Luck) or Jak rozp\u0119ta\u0142em drug\u0105 wojn\u0119 \u015bwiatow\u0105 (How I Unleashed World War II) were a way for the generation that had survived the war to face it. Mocking certain behaviors or situations allowed them to gain distance \u2013 and it is precisely this distance that is sometimes necessary to integrate difficult experiences<\/p>\n\n\n\n The same applies to other reactions that may seem inappropriate or even shocking to others, such as laughter, jokes, or the use of phones in places of remembrance, like Auschwitz. We are studying these phenomena and discovering that they often serve as protective mechanisms. People are trying to cope with something that is almost unbearable<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ky trend ishte i pranish\u00ebm edhe n\u00eb kineman\u00eb e ashtuquajtur t\u00eb Holokaustit. Filma si Train of Life dhe Life is Beautiful p\u00ebrpiqen t\u00eb flasin p\u00ebr krimin n\u00eb nj\u00eb m\u00ebnyr\u00eb q\u00eb jo vet\u00ebm p\u00ebrcjell njohuri, por gjithashtu lejon shikuesin t\u00eb leht\u00ebsoj\u00eb paksa barr\u00ebn emocionale.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Megjithat\u00eb, duhet t\u00eb kujtojm\u00eb se kultura ka edhe an\u00ebn e saj t\u00eb err\u00ebt \u2013 mund t\u00eb jet\u00eb gjithashtu traumatike. Nga k\u00ebrkimet tona, p\u00ebrfshir\u00eb k\u00ebtu edhe mes hebrenjve polak\u00eb, si dhe nga analizat e Michael Wohl dhe Jay Van Bavel, e dim\u00eb se identifikimi i fort\u00eb me nj\u00eb grup bart me vete trash\u00ebgimin\u00eb e traum\u00ebs. Kjo mund t\u00eb b\u00ebj\u00eb q\u00eb nj\u00eb person t\u00eb p\u00ebrjetoj\u00eb traum\u00eb dyt\u00ebsore. Nj\u00eb kultur\u00eb q\u00eb na kujton vazhdimisht vuajtjen dhe dhun\u00ebn mund t\u00eb forcoj\u00eb ndjenj\u00ebn e k\u00ebrc\u00ebnimit, izolimit dhe frik\u00ebs. Prandaj \u00ebsht\u00eb vendimtare m\u00ebnyra se si flasim p\u00ebr t\u00eb kaluar\u00ebn \u2013 dhe n\u00ebse u japim shikuesve mund\u00ebsin\u00eb t\u00eb hyjn\u00eb n\u00eb k\u00ebt\u00eb bot\u00eb duke ruajtur kufijt\u00eb e tyre personal\u00eb.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Question:Can trauma teach us anything? Empathy, responsibility, freedom?\"<\/a><\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Prof. Micha\u0142 Bilewicz:<\/strong> I think trauma can teach us something \u2013 although not necessarily what we expect. In a way, trauma prepares us for future crises. It brings hypervigilance and distrust, which can be destructive in times of peace, but can be adaptive in moments of danger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This was seen, for example, after the outbreak of war in Ukraine in 2022. Poles did not wait for the state to act, but took grassroots actions to help refugees. This is typical behavior of a society that remembers trauma, even if it has never explicitly named it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \"The same thing happens in places that live under constant threat, like Israel or Ukraine. There, people learn to function in a reality of alarms, air raids, and power outages. At the same time, they are extremely distrustful of outsiders. Sociologist Daniel Bar-Tal calls this the 'ethos of conflict' \u2013 a daily way of life in the reality of war.\"<\/p>\n\n\n\n \"Perhaps this allows us to better understand how the generation that lived under occupation functioned. For them, the sight of executions, ghettos, and massacres was something they had to get used to in order to survive. As Mi\u0142osz wrote, the carousel keeps turning \u2013 not because people are indifferent, but because they have to live. This is not cynicism, but an adaptive psychological mechanism. It may shock us, but this is how the human psyche works.\"<\/p>\n\n\n\n Question: \"What would you like to change in the way societies relate to their future?\"<\/a><\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Prof. Micha\u0142 Bilewicz: <\/strong>There is one thing that seems particularly important to me and that can change: historically traumatized societies are often unable to recognize the trauma of others. When we have ourselves experienced suffering \u2013 especially if our trauma has not been fully acknowledged by the world \u2013 we have a strong need to focus on our own pain. So strong that we begin to deny the trauma of others.<\/p>\n\n\n\n For me personally, writing Traumaland was a kind of exercise in empathy. I come from a family of Holocaust survivors \u2013 most of my family perished during the Holocaust. I grew up in an environment where Jewish trauma was central \u2013 the suffering of others, including the experience of non-Jewish Poles during the war, was treated as insignificant. Henryk Grynberg wrote that, in the case of Jews, 'decimation' means one in ten survived, whereas in the case of Poles, it means one in ten died. And these two experiences of occupation are not comparable. But the loss of 10% of an entire population is also a major historical wound, which deserves recognition.\"<\/p>\n\n\n\n A similar mechanism works in the opposite direction \u2013 many Poles, focused on their own trauma, are not ready to acknowledge the suffering of others: Ukrainians, Germans, Jews. People are unwilling to speak about crimes committed by Poles, whether during the Holocaust or after the war: in the \u015awi\u0119toch\u0142owice and \u0141ambinowice camps, during Operation Vistula. Yet, being a victim in the past does not exclude the possibility of becoming a perpetrator of trauma in the future.\"<\/p>\n\n\n\n Historia e gjenocidit dhe dhun\u00ebs tregon qart\u00eb se autor\u00ebt ishin shpeshher\u00eb vet\u00eb viktima. Kjo \u00ebsht\u00eb nj\u00eb e v\u00ebrtet\u00eb e dhimbshme. Trauma, n\u00ebse nuk punohet mbi t\u00eb, mund t\u00eb \u00e7oj\u00eb n\u00eb gatishm\u00ebri p\u00ebr t\u00eb traumatizuar t\u00eb tjer\u00ebt. Prandaj na duhet nj\u00eb perspektiv\u00eb psikologjike q\u00eb fokusohet n\u00eb p\u00ebrvoj\u00ebn individuale dhe jo n\u00eb narrativat komb\u00ebtare. Psikologjia, ndryshe nga historia apo shkencat politike, nuk krijon narrativa q\u00eb justifikojn\u00eb nj\u00ebr\u00ebn pal\u00eb. Ajo i jep hap\u00ebsir\u00eb kujtdo \u2013 sepse \u00e7do traum\u00eb duhet t\u00eb njihet p\u00ebr t\u2019u sh\u00ebruar. Dhe kjo njohje \u00ebsht\u00eb, sipas meje, shpresa jon\u00eb m\u00eb e madhe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \"Question: Why are defensive narratives so common? Is it natural that we prefer to see ourselves only as victims?\"<\/em><\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n Prof. Micha\u0142 Bilewicz:<\/strong> Yes, it is a fairly natural psychological mechanism. In psychology, we talk about moral typecasting \u2013 we tend to see people in fixed roles: either victim or perpetrator. It is very difficult to accept that someone can be both. The more we build our identity around the role of the victim, the harder it is to acknowledge that we may also have been perpetrators. Only in a few cases, such as Germany after World War II or Rwanda after the 1994 genocide, has space been created to recognize this difficult duality.\"<\/p>\n\n\n\n History and experience are not black and white. Just look at Kashubia or Pomerania \u2013 before the war, people lived close to one another, and the borders were different. The divisions between perpetrators and victims are not always clear.\"<\/p>\n\n\n\n This illustrates the danger of a nationalized historical narrative. In psychology, we see it as very harmful because it hinders individual expression and the sharing of personal experiences. This is evident today in the exhibition Our Boys, which has provoked extreme reactions \u2013 often full of ignorance. Many people are unaware that hundreds of thousands of Poles were forcibly recruited into the Wehrmacht \u2013 more than fought in the Home Army \u2013 and yet the fate of these people is suppressed, unwanted in the dominant narrative.\"<\/p>\n\n\n\n \"This is not about avoiding responsibility, but about the colonization of Polish historical memory \u2013 first by a region (Central Poland) and then by a social class (the Polish intelligentsia). And it is the experience of this class and this geography that has spread across all of Poland, replacing other histories \u2013 of Kashubia, Pomerania, and Galicia. People who could not always fit into heroic, insurgent narratives.\"<\/p>\n\n\n\n As a psychologist, for me the starting point must be precisely these individual experiences \u2013 of people and families. Only then can true recognition and processing of trauma be achieved. Not through top-down narratives that divide history into black and white.\"<\/p>\n\n\n\n Question: Are there countries or communities that, in your view, have dealt well with trauma and a difficult past?\"<\/em><\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n Prof. Micha\u0142 Bilewicz:<\/em><\/strong>\"Paradoxically, the more traumatized a society has been, the harder it is to confront that trauma. I cannot name a nation that has truly settled accounts with its past. For this to happen, there must be a starting point \u2013 acknowledgment of responsibility and naming crimes by their true names.\"<\/p>\n\n\n\n \"Germany and Rwanda are good examples. In both cases, there has been official acknowledgment of the genocide and the perpetrators, which has allowed the construction of an entirely new narrative, both in education and society. In Germany, the Holocaust has become the absolute center of historical memory. Research such as the MEMO-Studie from Bielefeld University shows that most Germans recognize their country\u2019s history from the moment of National Socialism onward \u2013 earlier periods are almost absent from collective awareness. Education about the Holocaust is not questioned \u2013 on the contrary, it is a fundamental element of civic identity.\"<\/p>\n\n\n\n The situation is similar in Rwanda, where tribal identities were completely abandoned after the genocide. Today, the younger generation does not know whether their families belonged to the Hutu, Tutsi, or Twa. The justice system, including the Gacaca courts, not only punished perpetrators but also sought to reconcile local communities that had to continue living together. In this sense, we can speak of a successful internal reconstruction.\"<\/p>\n\n\n\n \"However, on a broader level, cracks appear \u2013 both in Rwanda\u2019s relations with the Democratic Republic of the Congo and in the attitude of Germans in the eastern part toward refugees. Rwanda supports armed actions beyond its borders, and in Germany the popularity of the AfD and anti-immigrant sentiment is rising. This raises the question of whether this success of memory \u2013 the acknowledgment of one\u2019s own trauma \u2013 takes a different form.\"<\/p>\n\n\n\n