Public Parking
A journal for storytelling, arguments, and discovery through tangential conversations.
Essay | There is Always Language
Monday, August 17, 2026 | Zoé Samudzi
In 2019, while working on my doctoral research about German colonialism, I spent a spring in Yerevan, Armenia. I wanted to learn more about the production of national memory in a country whose history narrativizes genocide survivorship. I also wanted to better understand the arc of German genocide from its inaugural annihilation in South West Africa (today’s Namibia), to its support for the Ottoman Turkish genocide during the First World War, to the Nazi Holocaust during the Second, to its embrace of Zionist expansionism by the Israeli state as its expressed Staatsräson—a longue durée of blood and soil brutalities occluded by an insistence on Holocaust exceptionalism. My experience in Armenia was particularly formative because it marked the first time I meaningfully engaged artistic work that might be described as “genocide art”: works produced in the midst, aftermath, or distanced recollection of genocide experience and/or intergenerational memory.