Alfred Hrdlicka’s Memorial against War and Fascism (1988/91) poignantly contradicts Robert Musil’s bon mot regarding the invisible nature of monuments. Yet, should this be a reason for its acclaim? This chapter reflects on why Hrdlicka’s monument came into existence at a specific moment in time and shows why the socio-political climate of the 1980s influenced its prominent placement in one of Vienna’s most prominent public spaces. Coming into existence during a period when the monument genre was under intense scrutiny, Hrdlicka chose to embrace a figurative mode of expression, ensuring his multi-faceted work remains noticeable. Nonetheless, the representation of the Jewish figure—portrayed stereotypically as the eternal victim—continues to be a subject of contention till today. While we recognize the memorial’s strengths, we emphasize the profound concerns arising from the portrayal of the humiliated Jew. Our discussion concludes with an analysis of Ruth Beckermann’s intervention, The Missing Image (2015), shedding light on the evolution of Austrian memory culture over the years. Paradoxically, while Hrdlicka’s contentious memorial endures, Beckermann’s much acclaimed intervention has been dismantled, leaving behind no physical markers of a transformed Austrian commemorative landscape.

The focus of this chapter is on two monuments in Vienna – Olaf Nicolai's Memorial for the Victims of Nazi Military Justice (2014) and Françoise Schein's The Vienna Banquet of Human Rights and its Guardians (2018). Nicolai honours the ultimate anti-hero, the deserter, thereby deviating radically from traditional understandings of heroism represented by the equestrian statues to military leaders standing in Heldenplatz (Heroes Square), visible from his memorial. These stand underneath the balcony from which Hitler proclaimed the Anschluss, leading subsequently also to the victimisation of those who refused to join his war. That war resulted in the Human Rights Declaration of 1948, honoured by Schein's monument, a short walk away. Her piece answers the growing demand to not only confront shameful national pasts but also visualise values key to democracy.

It is revealed that both works encourage citizens to rethink democratic values, not only thematically but also through their designs and the interaction they demand. Core democratic values are not only made visible, but tangible. They can be experienced and practiced. Both create stages for gathering and protest alike. They demand from users what is seen to be important for democratic citizens – namely, cognitive and emotional engagement.

This article is an invitation to think together about what was long considered irreconcilable: democracy and monuments. It shows that “monuments in democracies” are not to be equated with “democratic monuments.” In today’s democracies, we must deal with monuments that we have inherited and that are often fundamentally opposed to our current democratic values. But what kind of monuments do democratic societies need? Through references both to history and to developments in monument creation during the last 40 years, we can see how much the genre has been revitalized and, yes, democratized.

Die Konventionen des bürgerlichen Denkmals bildeten sich nach der Französischen Revolution heraus. Bei den Stadtumwandlungen des 19. Jahrhunderts gehörte das Denkmal auf den neu angelegten Plätzen und in den Parks einfach dazu. Inflationär wurden Denkmäler in die expandierenden Städte gepflanzt (Shanken, Life, S. 92, S. 132–135) – von London bis Kapstadt wurden so Schriftsteller, Komponisten und Erfinder geehrt. Dieses Inventar umgibt sich mit einer Aura des schon immer Dagewesenen und insistiert auf Bleiberecht.

This chapter looks at one outreach campaign of POLIN—the Museum of the History of Polish Jews, The Daffodils Campaign, which annually commemorates the Warsaw ghetto uprising in 1943. My analysis is guided by media and culture scholar Stephen Duncombe’s model to assess the impact of activist art, and rests on comprehensive audience reception studies conducted between 2016 and 2018. The chapter explains how the campaign works, what effects it has on those distributing the flower and those accepting it. It thus brings insights into the campaign’s aim to ensure that the Holocaust receives and maintains a prominent place in Polish memory culture and anchors an awareness of the one thousand years of Jewish presence on Polish territories. Through the use of surveys, I interrogate to what extent the proclaimed aims meet with the way people react to and experience this socio-educational campaign.