The study of memory is an ever-evolving field, having to constantly negate the reinforcement of antagonisms. Various modes of memory study have developed in recent history, most notably the “cosmopolitan mode” which emerged after the Second World War, which focused on individual victims and subsequently neglected the social and political causes of events, resulting in feeding nationalistic ideology. It was not until the 21st century that a new, modern, and equally notable mode of memory study was conceptualised: the “agonistic mode”. By acknowledging the existence of conflict, the role of emotions, and the need to focus on both social and political contexts, this theory promotes an increasingly empathetic methodology.
Two conflicts that have been at the centre of agonistic memory study are the Troubles and the Algerian War; the memory of these conflicts has been undertaken by institutions of public history, Voices of 68 developed by National Museums NI and History and Memory of the Algerian War by the French Ministry of Armed Forces. It is the very location of these two projects that displays a key difference in the memory, or negligence of memory, between these conflicts.
This essay aims to highlight the difference in memory of the Northern Irish Troubles within its colonial metropole, England, and of the Algerian War in their colonial metropole of France. The use of military memoirs and quantitative surveys paints two contrasting pictures of collective memory. While in 1991 a representative poll of 17–30-year-olds showed that only a small minority agreed with the statement that France had never used torture in Algeria, a memoir by a British paratrooper stationed in Northern Ireland claimed that nobody in England “had a clue about what was going on out there”. This disparity in understanding, and consequently memory, leads to further questions of why and how these histories have generated such unique memories and legacies—questions that this essay seeks to answer.
While there are clear differences between the contexts of the Troubles and the Algerian War, there are some unifiers which allow for comparative analysis. In each example, the passage of time has “paved the way” for a more critical and constructive approach to how the period has been remembered. A key difference in the legacy of each conflict is the memory of, and attitudes towards, specific accounts of violence.
Whilst it seems that English attitude towards confessions of gruesome brutality committed by paratroopers is one of negligence, this heedless attitude is not shared by the French when remembering the Algerian War. In military memoirs, Northern Ireland is treated as merely one campaign among many; nonetheless, they still reveal how inappropriately soldiers were prepared for the situation in Northern Ireland and its detrimental effects. Accounts of “praying for a contact” and “to watch the blood flow” are common within these memoirs. Even more detailed brutalities are documented, such as in Harry McCallion’s Killing Zone, where he describes using a piece of a dead man’s skull as an ashtray. This revelation, published in 1995, received no public outcry and no outraged media headlines condemning this violence. Historian John Newsinger has questioned whether this lack of response would be replicated if an IRA memoir revealed a similar story.
A completely contrasting attitude towards their colonialist past is felt within France. In 2005, for example, a series of riots broke out putting the legacies of the colonial empire into question. More recently, the Ministries of Defence and Home Affairs have specifically designed and implemented policies to raise awareness among young people about the Algerian War, and French president Emmanuel Macron has also publicly acknowledged the French army’s use of torture during the war.
The different treatment that accounts of violence have received on a personal scale in each metropole has caused further disparities systematically. Historian Paul Max Morin highlights the importance of the decade of the 2000s in France, with the arrival of a new generation in power, the opening of historical archives, and publications by historians which all created a favourable setting for what has been described as “the memory war”. This acceptance of the past puts the English attitude of ignorance to shame. The 2010s saw multiple accounts of this attitude with the decision not to order an inquiry into the Ballymurphy shootings, the arrest of Gerry Adams, and the government’s willingness to “play the orange card”.
However, France’s journey to acceptance of their colonialist past has not been a completely smooth one, largely due to the influence of religious difference. Since the 2000s various political actors have attempted to hijack the French–Algerian past to push a racist agenda, though historian Benjamin Stora argues that racist attitudes towards Algerians have been strong since the 1970s. Algerian immigrants within France, nicknamed ‘Maghrebins’, have been subject to extreme hostility, even cases of murder with purely racist motivations. Recent history has also seen a further rise in far-right nationalist movements within France, which can be seen as a response to Islamic radicalisation and resultant terrorist attacks. This radicalisation can be seen as a direct consequence of France’s previous amnesia towards their conduct in Algeria and lack of attempts to combat racism. Young Maghrebins who face daily discrimination and humiliation find it hard to access and understand the complex colonial history, leaving a void and creating room for manipulations of the past.
While the foundations of the Algerian War were largely set on religious pro-Islamic grounds, the influence of religion within the Troubles is a more contested debate. Historian Patrick Finnegan discusses the difference between ‘religion’ and ‘Religion’ in the context of Northern Ireland. The influence of ‘religion’ is defined as the critical importance of an ethno-political-sectarian identity, and ‘Religion’ or ‘Religious differences’ being defined as purely a distinction in what is believed and practiced. Finnegan argues that the paramilitaries involved in the Troubles were motivated by ‘religion’; this was used as a mobilising factor which had been politicised and used to ethnically differentiate two communities.
The debate concerning ‘religion’ vs. ‘Religion’ highlights the importance of how the attribution of conflict to religion is often too narrowly defined in academia, which can lead to misinterpretations of past conflicts. Finnegan suggests that it is wrong to simply suggest that the only source of a conflict is religion, whether in Western society or the Middle East. As the cause of both conflicts analysed within this essay can be attributed to religion—whether ‘religion’ or ‘Religion’—extra caution should be taken when comparing the two conflicts. The ethics, feasibility, and benefits of comparative analysis should be of utmost importance when considering these, or any, two conflicts and their legacies.
The ethics of historical comparative analysis has been a long-standing concern. Historians Haupt and Kocka urge fellow historians to resist the unthinking adoption of paradigms and methodologies from other social sciences. There are several potential pitfalls of comparative analysis if a focus on accuracy, bias, and inclusivity is not taken. Eurocentrism is a major and common consequence of poorly considered comparative analysis. Approaches that focus on typologies of development can lead to a dismissal of historical paths or judgement in non-Western societies, which can lead to marginalization and misinterpretation.
Comparative analysis of the Troubles and the Algerian War can unintentionally result in the use of the Troubles as a primary reference or as a standard against the Algerian experience. While both conflicts resulted in decolonisation processes, the Troubles involved two European territories, which could cause impartial bias when compared to aspects of the Algerian experience—especially when analysing post-conflict memory, as it may not conform to perceived European norms. An example of this could be the failure to fully appreciate Algeria’s unique context shaped by colonialism and its aftermath, leading to Algerian leaders seeking to establish quality relations with France; similar attempts are unheard of when analysing the Troubles.
Conclusion
When comparing the post-conflict memories of the Troubles and the Algerian War, it becomes evident that public history and collective memory are not solely shaped by the severity of violence, but by how that violence is processed, politicised, and institutionalised within its colonial metropole. While France has begun the process of confronting its colonial past, albeit unevenly, England has largely maintained a stance of detachment and silence regarding its history in Northern Ireland. This divergence speaks not only to differences in political will and public discourse, but also to the selective ways in which national identities are constructed through memory.
This comparison is not without risks. This essay has highlighted the need for ethical awareness when conducting historical comparisons, especially in colonial and postcolonial contexts. While both conflicts stem from complex intersections of political, social, and religious forces, their unique historical trajectories must be respected. Simplistic parallels or Eurocentric frameworks can obscure the lived realities of those involved and risk perpetuating historical misinterpretations.
Nevertheless, comparative analysis, when approached with caution, can offer valuable insights. By examining how each society remembers—or neglects—the memory of its violent past, we gain a deeper understanding of the legacies of empire, the role of state institutions, and the emotional landscape of post-conflict societies. Ultimately, memory is not only crucial to the past, but also a political act in the present, shaping futures through narratives told or chosen to suppress.
