FIVE DECADES AFTER its inception, Auschwitz not only stands as a symbol of ultimate evil but also represents the so-called “dark tourism”. This term refers to the growing interest in visiting sites associated with death and destruction, such as battlefields, prisons, haunted houses, and locations where genocide occurred.

This trend carries a sense of empathy and a duty of remembrance. However, it also bears an uncomfortable aspect of voyeurism, which has contributed to the transformation of the infamous death camp into a unique tourist destination. Here, visitors can eat, drink, use the restroom, and even snap a selfie next to the gas chambers.

In 2014, a teenager’s cheerful selfie at Auschwitz-Birkenau, accompanied by a smiling emoji, triggered a strong backlash on social media. The controversy was further fueled by the installation of water vaporizers at the camp’s entrance to alleviate summer heat, which uncomfortably echoed the lethal gas chambers. The Auschwitz foundation defended the decision, stating that the controversy was unwarranted as Zyklon B, the deadly gas used to exterminate Jews, was deployed “in a completely different way.”

“Its nature has changed, but it will never become a museum like all the others, because it is still a sacred place due to the suffering that occurred there and its enormous size. The last survivors are slowly fading away, along with their first-hand accounts. The question is what our relationship with these places will be.”

Each anniversary of the death camp’s liberation takes place within a specific political context. The commemoration held every year on January 27 is marked this year, its 80th iteration, by the dwindling number of survivors, the destruction of Gaza, and the rise of the far right in many parts of Europe, including Germany. These factors distort the post-war imperatives of our collective historical memory.

Donald Trump’s re-election also seems to mark a definitive end to the post-war international order, as he gradually withdraws the US from the institutions established after 1945. “Culturally, it’s an incredible shift,” says French historian Annette Wieviorka, one of the world’s leading Holocaust experts.

“The world in which people like me grew up and learned to think is disappearing. Now we are being told that freedom of speech comes with the right to lie.

This 80th anniversary arrives amidst a transition to a new world that we are struggling to navigate.”

The historian recalls the commemoration 20 years ago, when she was confident that history had prevailed. “I had believed that the narrative of what transpired at Auschwitz had deeply permeated collective consciousness. Now we see that everything can be undone. Auschwitz remains a symbol of horror, but the taboos have been broken,” she says. This includes taking selfies in front of barbed wire, opening Rudolf Höss’s house to the public, where the film “Zone of Interest” was shot, and the staggering increase in books bearing the word “Auschwitz” in their title, as if the camp has become a sort of brand.

Here are just a few examples: The Ballerina of Auschwitz, The Orphan of Auschwitz, Lovers in Auschwitz, The Midwife of Auschwitz, The Tattooist of Auschwitz, The Sisters of Auschwitz, The Photographer of Auschwitz, The Librarian of Auschwitz, The Dressmakers of Auschwitz. “Everything is now about emotion,” says Wieviorka. “Emotions are crucial to understanding the Holocaust, but when everything is reduced to emotion, historical truth is lost.”

Has Auschwitz been completely normalized? “Not yet,” he replies, “but there is a gradual trivialisation. The current trend is to create countless historical Disneylands. At present, this is not the case with Auschwitz or Birkenau, but the future does not look promising.”

According to museological researcher Nathanaël Wadbled, we have transitioned from the “age of testimony”, characterized by the surge of testimonies following the televised trial of Adolf Eichmann in 1961, to “an age of post-memory, where the transmission of experience will no longer be through individuals, but through places”. The memorial route does not vanish, but evolves. In this sense, tourism may not be irreverent and pointless, but rather a new form of memory that mirrors our era.

Dutch historian Robert Jan van Pelt, curator of a significant traveling exhibition dedicated to the camp’s history, has visited Auschwitz more than 80 times. Initially, in the late 1980s, he would spend an hour and a half at the camp. Now, he stays for up to four days.

“The camp has been expanded and equipped with an infrastructure that can accommodate hundreds of tours daily. Surprisingly, Auschwitz has become a must-see tourist destination,” he notes.

“Its nature has transformed, but it will never be just another museum, because it remains a sacred site due to the suffering that occurred there and its immense size. The last survivors are slowly fading away, and with them, their firsthand testimonies. The question now is how we will relate to these places. What will an 18, 25, or 30-year-old, who did not grow up with these testimonies, see? What will these places mean to them?”

What significance will these places hold for them?

From El Pais