Motives for dark tourism: enrichment, education and empathy? Or just plain voyeurism and morbid curiosity?
Last weekend I posted about Anzac Day, sacred moments, and the revival of nationalism and Anzac Day imagery and 'young Australia': national identity and the need for heroes. The extensive media coverage here in Australia showing young flag-wearing and flag-waving Australians on Anzac Day was what had motivated my series of posts reflecting on the growth in grief tourism and dark tourism. I felt that for these young Aussie 'dark tourists', travelling to Gallipoli or other battle sites or war memorials for Anzac Day was partly motivated by a desire to commemorate wars their ancestors fought in, but was also for the entertainment value and the desire to participate in something that's now considered to be a cool thing to do. For me, it's almost as if Gallipoli is the new Bali - a rite of passage for young Aussie travellers. But I also think their presence is to do with a need to reinforce their identity and their national identity in particular, and a desire to strengthen their sense of belonging to an idealised notion of their nation. And it's this that I'm uncomfortable with, partly because I think it takes away from the true purpose of the day (rememberance), but mostly because it excludes all others who don't identify.Much of the media coverage and analysis related to dark tourism dwells on the dilemma of the dark tourist. On the one hand, their visit to a site, whether it's a war memorial or concentration camp or battlefield, and their participation in a 'dark tour' is motivated by a desire for self-education and self-awareness, for developing empathy and for personal enrichment. Alexander Schwabe writes about a visit to Auschwitz (pictured) from this perspective in his comprehensive account in Der Speigel, Visiting Auschwitz, the Factory of Death (Jan, 2005). On the other hand, rightly or wrongly, the same kind of participation can be perceived as morbid curiosity or overt voyeurism. Simon Reeve touches on this in When it's right to roam (The Observer, Oct 2005) as he considers his impact and value of a trip to Uzbekistan, while James Marrison reflects upon similar issues in Wise to the streets, when he joins tours to see transvestites and shanty towns in Buenos Aires. In Humour and Hospitality go with the Territories (Oct 2005) Andrew Mueller believes the positives outweigh the negatives, convinced that the rewards for tourists and locals alike are immense. Likewise, the motives of a "genocide tourist" addict in Steve Silva's Genocide Tourism: Tragedy Becomes a Destination (Chicago Tribune, Aug 2007) make for a compelling case for this form of tourism.
But rarely do writers touch upon issues of identity that might be at play, and yet those have very much been a part of my experience of dark tourism. I did the tour of Auschwitz-Birkenau that Scwabe describes and our experience was similar. For me, it was transformational. I developed an understanding and an empathy that I never truly had before. We went in winter and it was snowing and I'll never forget the bitter cold I experienced although cocooned in my layers of thermals, stockings, sweaters, scarf, boots, and coat. How on earth did these people survive the cold, let alone everything else, I constantly wondered? However, what had been a sobering and poignant experience was almost marred by the behaviour of a large group of Israeli students who came (like the Aussies at Gallipoli) wearing and waving enormous Israeli flags. They appeared to pay little attention to their guide, they spent little time at exhibits, they rushed through as if visiting a dull natural history museum, and they seemed to be more consumed with each other than their surroundings. Instead, they giggled and joked and waved their flags with an attitude that I perceived as arrogance, as if celebrating their team's victory at a football match. What was going on there do you think? My sense is that they shared someone with those young Australian travellers at Gallipoli on Anzac Day...
Dark tourism resources, references and first-hand accounts
The best depository of dark tourism resources must be the the University of Central Lancashire's Dark Tourism Forum which has a long list of links to books, scholarly essays and media articles on the subject. Their definition of dark tourism also takes in a prison tourism and the specialised area of Holocaust tourism and genocide tourism. The body of articles on the site testifies both to an increase in interest in researching and writing about dark tourism in recent years as well as to an actual increase in the popularity of dark tourism. For instance, take a look at Post 9/11 Dark tourism booms, which states that 2.2 million people visited Ground Zero in 2002, and Visiting sites of tragedy to touch history, ease grief (CNN.com, 2008) which claims that 5.6 million visited the Ground Zero site in 2006. The Guardian and The Observer are another great source of articles; they've given dark tourism extensive coverage in recent years, with a number of first-hand accounts of dark touristic experience from Sarah Johnstone's Strange and unsettling: my day trip to Chernobyl (Oct, 2005) to James Hopkirk's visits with prisoners in Checking in to the Bangkok Hilton (also Oct, 2005).
Dark tourism, tours and DIY how-to guides
The term 'dark tourism' is generally thought to have first been coined by UK academics John Lennon and Malcolm Foley in the mid-1990s. They were the first to publish a book on the subject, 'Dark Tourism: The Attraction of Death and Disaster' in 2000, which explores the rise of this phenomenon in the late 20th century. Lennon claimed in 'Tourists who yield to the lure of the macabre' (The Independent, 2001) that it was actually a Schindler's List tour that inspired their research. For those averse to organized tours, sites such as eHow provide step-by-step do-it-yourself 'dark tour' guides, such as How to Take a JFK Assassination Tour, while wikiHow gives advice on How to Plan a Dark Tour or Halloween Vacation, with links to Find a Grave (so you can locate famous burial sites) and the Dark Destinations database, where you can get more ideas - or add your own.
The history of dark tourism: from Roman gladiator spectacles to contemporary conflict zone tours
Dark tourism is not new, as my readers (whose insightful comments always inspire further reflection) point out: Travel Muse recalls touring German war sites as a teenager, while Sandy suggests that The Crusades, which revolved around a fascination with the macabre, might also have been an early version of dark tourism. Indeed, the thesis of 'Guided by the dark: from thanatopsis to thanatourism', published in 1996 by A V Seaton, is that death is the one heritage that everyone shares and therefore has been an element of tourism longer than any other form of heritage. (Thanatourism is generally described as the desire for actual or symbolic encounters with death.) The nobility watched the 1815 Battle of Waterloo from a safe distance, while one of the American Civil War sites (Manassas) was immediately marketed as a tourist attraction after the war ended, according to UK scholar John Lennon in Journeys into Understanding in The Observer (2005). Indeed, the Auschwitz-Birkenaz concentration camp museum and memorial (pictured) was established in 1947, less than two years after the Red Army troops arrived in 1945 and found 7,000 emaciated prisoners there; it now receives nearly a million visitors a year. Debbie Lisle in 'Defending Voyeurism: Dark Tourism and the Problem of Global Security' (in Peter M Burns and Marina Novelli's Tourism and politics: global frameworks and local realities, 2007) argues that historical spectacles such as Roman gladiator matches and public hangings were also forms of dark tourism, and that the phenomenon also takes in sites of celebrity deaths, such as the site of JFK's assassination in Dallas and the site of Diana's death in Paris, as well as tours to modern conflict zones, from Bosnia to Mogadishu. It was just recently that tourists visited Iraq for the first time since 2003, starting with an independent traveller (see Fallujah's Strange Visitor: a Western Tourist in the New York Times) in February 2009, followed by a group of package tourists (see I took a picture to show my dentist in The Guardian, 21 March 2009). It's interesting to note that the group didn't consider themselves to be 'war tourists', claiming they were there for the history and culture, despite visiting places that are still very dangerous, such as Mosul, while the Italian independent traveller simply seemed naive. Neither the Iraqis nor Italian officials nor American marines interviewed for the story thought Iraq was ready for tourists yet.
The rise in Grief Tourism or Dark Tourism
Is it real, imagined or constructed? Recent years have seen a rise in grief tourism, dark tourism and disaster tourism, according to media reports. But I wonder if this has any actual foundation, whether the increase is real or whether it's a case of more media reporting, arising from more academic analysis on the phenomena? It would be interesting to see a comparative study on how tourist numbers at specific sites have changed in recent years. The media, as much as the travel industry, values novelty - indeed, the industry is in the business of manufacturing and commodifying novelty, of creating new tourist products that inspire people to travel to their destination - so is it simply a case of old practices being renamed so that they appear new?Regardless of whether there has been an actual increase in these touristic practices, or simply an increase in coverage of them, I find the phenomena intriguing. Essentially, grief tourism is travel to a place to remember, commemorate and mourn a significant loss of life, such as visits to cemeteries, war memorials and sites of murders. It's a sub-category of dark tourism, which involves travel to places associated with death, tragedy and atrocities, such as battlefields like Gallipoli (which I've been posting about recently), mass graves such as the Killing Fields, and concentration camps like Auschwitz-Birkenau. But that visit doesn't necessarily involve mourning or grief, but may be more about education - developing an awareness and understanding of the tragedy, and attempting to better empathize with the suffering - and also entertainment. And then there's disaster tourism, which involves visits to sites of mass destruction such as New York's 'Ground Zero', Hiroshima and Chernobyl, and places where natural catastrophes occurred, such as Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, the 2004 tsunami in South-East Asia, and Cyclone Tracey in Darwin. The terms have long been in use - the Germans' use 'Gruseltourismus' or shudder tourism, which I like. So while the discussion of these phenomena might have travelled from academia to the media and to the blogosophere (see the Dark Tourism series on Vagabondish for instance), has there actually been a rise in the practices themselves in recent years? What do you think? And if so, what does this say about tourism and about ourselves as travellers?