Memory Between Erasure and Transmission

Memory is never neutral. It first appears as a fact: a language, a work, a structure that imposes itself. Yet beneath these appearances, it becomes contested ground, a space where invisible power struggles unfold. Two fragments—one drawn from political fiction, the other from historical scholarship—offer contrasting visions of it.

Language as Official Framework

The first fragment emerges from a world where memory is framed by an institution. Newspeak is presented not as an accident, but as a deliberate instrument of governance, a language that exists by design.

1 Newspeak was the official language of Oceania. For an account of its structure and etymology, see the Appendix.

The text says no more. It does not describe the effects of this language, nor its intentions. It merely records its existence as an administrative fact: it is official. This status grants it an authority that transcends mere words. An official language is not just a means of communication; it is a framework that defines what can be said, thought, transmitted. Newspeak is not presented as a threat or an innovation, but as a given, a reality one can refer to (“see the Appendix”). This apparent neutrality is what makes it powerful: it imposes itself without justification, as self-evident.

The Work as Accumulation

The second fragment comes from a different kind of labor. Ibn Khaldūn describes the genesis of a book, but also the way memory unfolds within it.

To this work, titled History of the Berbers, he added a volume of prolegomena; shortly afterward, he completed his labor with a new series of memoirs concerning the peoples and dynasties of the East.

Here, memory is not an imposed language, but a process of successive additions. The original work (History of the Berbers) is enriched by a volume, then by a “new series of memoirs.” These additions are not presented as corrections or revisions, but as natural complements. Memory, in this case, is not a fixed block, but a substance that accumulates, extends, diversifies. It is not official, but organic: it grows with time, adapts to needs, incorporates new elements without erasing the old.

Two Ways of Fixing the Past

These two fragments do not speak of memory in the same way. The first presents it as a rigid framework, a language whose structure and etymology are recorded in an appendix. The second shows it as an ongoing labor, where each addition extends the original work without negating it.

Yet both reveal the same concern: memory is not a given, but a construct. In Nineteen Eighty-Four, it is fixed by an authority that controls its contours. In the Prolegomena, it is shaped by a writing process that spans multiple volumes. In both cases, it is not mere recollection, but a reality inscribed in precise forms: a language, a book, a structure.

The Silence of Sources

These fragments say nothing of the intentions behind them. They do not reveal whether memory is a tool of domination or a means of transmission. They do not specify whether it is threatened or protected. They merely describe facts: an official language, a work that expands.

Yet these silences speak volumes. Newspeak is mentioned without comment, as if its existence were self-evident. The Prolegomena are described as a work in progress, without judgment on their value or purpose. Neither text seeks to persuade; they simply observe. They offer no lesson, only material for thought.

What Remains

If we stick strictly to these fragments, we cannot claim that memory is a bulwark or a target. We cannot say whether it is organic or artificial. We can only note two ways of approaching it: as an official language, or as an expanding work.

But these two approaches reveal a single truth: memory is never settled. It is always at stake, always to be built or rebuilt. Whether imposed by power or shaped by the labor of writing, it remains a central concern, a necessary passage for any civilization.

The wise offer no solutions. They merely show that memory—whether language or book—is a space where invisible power struggles unfold. They do not say how to preserve it, but they remind us that it is never neutral.