Abstract
This article examines how the Waterloo Battlefield has been reinterpreted within the European Union’s broader heritage discourse, transforming a historically nationalistic site into a space of reconciliation and European integration. Drawing on critical heritage studies and EU memory politics, it analyses how official commemorations and museum exhibition practices translate transnational narratives into practice. Using archival analysis, participant observation, and interviews, the study identifies two key strategies: recontextualizing Waterloo within a European historical trajectory and emphasizing human suffering. However, national perspectives persist, shaping visitor engagement and complicating the site’s intended transnational message. The findings contribute to debates on the complexities of negotiating European heritage, showing that the construction of shared memory is an ongoing process rather than a seamless integration, reflecting broader tensions in EU heritage policy and European identity formation.
Introduction
In recent European heritage practices, there has been a growing trend of commemorating past conflicts through a lens of pacification and reconciliation at certain battlefields, such as Dybbøl in Denmark (Daugbjerg, 2009) and Verdun in France (Prost, 2002). In these instances, the commemoration of past conflicts has shifted away from nationalistic propaganda towards a more cosmopolitan approach, with these battles being framed within narratives that emphasize values such as peacekeeping, humanitarianism, and European integration. As Filippucci (2020: 401) noted, in the twenty-first century, speeches and ceremonies surrounding the commemoration of battles in Europe began to ‘touch on the theme of peace and of “Europe” as its guarantor’. In other words, wars and battles, once symbols of animosity and division, have been transformed into sites for fostering a sense of unity and a shared understanding of the past.
Wars are often seen as pivotal moments in shaping states, ethnic groups, and identities (Anderson, 1983). Oftentimes, defeats in battle are framed as humiliating episodes of a shameful past that fuel desires for revenge (see Daugbjerg, 2009), while victories are celebrated as symbols of national glory and sources of collective pride (see Whitmarsh, 2001). Both narratives play a crucial role in the construction of nationalism (see Hobsbawm and Ranger, 1983). Consequently, the production of war heritage and memory is inherently political, as it shapes and sustains identities, legitimizes political systems, and reinforces territorial claims (Gegner and Ziino, 2012). Understanding how war heritage is constructed and interpreted is therefore essential to analysing its broader societal and political implications.
Critical heritage studies have shown that the production of war heritage often serves symbolic purposes, as post-war reconstruction becomes a way to craft a narrative about the past that shapes both present and future identities. This process is crucial for states in constructing collective belonging and national identities (Sørensen and Viejo-Rose, 2015; Viejo-Rose, 2011). Therefore, it is not surprising that the production and interpretation of war heritage are often shaped by the ‘authorised heritage discourse’ (AHD), which is ‘often involved in the legitimisation and regulation of historical and cultural narratives, and the work that these narratives do in maintaining or negotiating certain societal values and the hierarchies that these underpin’ (Smith, 2012). Traditionally, the interpretation and commemoration of war was monopolized by the states, often used to shape and sustain identities, legitimize the political status quo, justify political decisions, and emphasize territorial claims. In other words, ‘they are a justification for entrenching particular power structures, and a font of identity-building politics’ (Gegner and Ziino, 2012: 14). As a result, the control over war heritage and its interpretation remains a powerful tool for states to influence collective memory, shape national identities, and reinforce political ideologies.
In contemporary Europe, war heritage, like heritage in general, has become increasingly transnational and cosmopolitan, transcending national boundaries and being shared across European nations. The concept of ‘European heritage’ now plays a vital role in shaping a collective sense of European belonging (Delanty, 2018; Lähdesmäki, 2017) and is increasingly referenced in European Union (EU) and Council of Europe (CofE) political discourses (Lähdesmäki, 2016). Heritage practitioners, including state actors and the EU, actively contribute to the production of this European heritage, fostering a shared understanding of the past and a collective European identity (Macdonald, 2013).
Macdonald (2013) introduces transcultural heritage and cosmopolitan memory to describe shared historical events, which are central to European heritage. This approach is evident in recent EU heritage initiatives, where policies aim to strengthen ‘European citizens’ sense of belonging to the European Union’ through ‘shared values and elements of European history’ (European Commission (EC), 2011: 2–3) and promote ‘EU citizenship by preserving and facilitating access to historical sites’ (European Parliament (EP), 2012: 154). EU memory politics increasingly promote a transnational narrative that reconciles past conflicts through shared values, with the Holocaust serving as a foundational event symbolizing the EU’s commitment to human rights and democracy (Assmann, 2007; Diner, 2000; Kroh, 2008; Sierp, 2023). However, this EU-driven narrative can create tensions with national perspectives, particularly in how countries remember their roles in the Second World War, especially in former Eastern Bloc nations (Perchoc, 2014).
The use of war heritage, of which the holocaust is a part, to promote peace and reconciliation is not incidental. The EU, after all, was conceived – though not exclusively – largely as a peace project, born out of the traumatic experiences of war and dictatorship during the Second World War. The memories of the early twentieth century were deeply embedded in the formative years of European integration (Sierp, 2023: 82). Since the Schuman Declaration on 9 May 1950, the determination to prevent further war between European nations has remained central to the master narrative of what would become the EU. Evoked repeatedly in official documents and political speeches, the memories of intra-European conflict and aggression significantly shaped the formation of the Union’s institutions (Sierp, 2014).
One important reference point for European political elites in their efforts to add a transnational dimension to existing national collective identities and memories is the idea that ‘the two world wars and the horrors they caused gave momentum to the establishment of “Europe” as a supranational peace project, designed to prevent the future rise of radical nationalism’ (Prutsch, 2015: 15). This perspective is based on the belief that by raising awareness of Europe’s violent past, particularly the Second World War, citizens can meaningfully engage with the origins of the EU, view European integration as a civilizing project that preserves peace among its members, and reflect on contemporary Europe. This process, in turn, aims to move beyond the past and build the future (Prutsch, 2015: 16). In practice, this requires: approaching Europe’s past through the lens of core European values, such as humanism, tolerance, and democracy; fostering an open sphere for discussion that encourages mutual understanding and reconciliation both within and between European nations; confronting uncomfortable aspects of national histories; basing judgements of the past solely on historical facts while rejecting the notion of a single ‘historical truth’; and acknowledging the potential risks involved in legislating a specific view or memory of the past (Prutsch, 2015: 6).
Despite the growing theoretical recognition and practical efforts to use war heritage as a tool for fostering reconciliation and peacebuilding in the EU context, there has been a notable lack of empirical research exploring how these broader agendas are actually translated into tangible practices at contemporary European heritage sites of conflict. By focusing on the Waterloo Battlefield, this article seeks to address this gap, offering an in-depth analysis of how such initiatives unfold in practice at a historically significant site.
The choice of Waterloo as the subject of this study is deliberate and based on several key reasons. First, it is a symbolic battlefield, widely regarded as one of the defining moments in European history, with some historians even citing it as the beginning of modern Europe (e.g. Wootten, 1992). Fought between major European powers, including present-day Britain, France, Germany, and the Netherlands, Waterloo has entered the collective memories (and amnesia) of the involved nations, becoming a focal point for transnational commemoration. Second, located in present-day Belgium, official commemorative activities since the Second World War have increasingly emphasized reconciliation and European integration with explicit EU involvement. This agenda has been reflected in the tangible heritage practices within the museums situated on the former battlefield, offering an ideal site for empirical studies on how authoritative narratives are implemented on the ground.
Data and methods
This research is based on multiple visits to the Waterloo Battlefield and extensive fieldwork conducted in 2019 and 2024, during which I worked as a student intern at the primary museum on site – Memorial 1815. This position allowed me to gain direct access to key personnel within the museum, providing unique insights into how the museum operates and how its exhibitions and practices contribute to shaping the narrative established by the authorities. During my fieldwork, I also conducted interviews with visitors, which offered a deeper understanding of how they engage with and interpret the heritage practices promoted by the museum. All interviews were conducted in English. Although I made an effort to interview visitors from diverse backgrounds, the language barrier limited my ability to engage with non-English-speaking individuals. Nonetheless, I was able to interview visitors and staff from various countries, allowing me to gather a relatively comprehensive range of responses from a transnational perspective. These interactions were crucial for evaluating the effectiveness of the ‘authorized heritage discourse’ (Smith, 2006) in transmitting its intended messages to the public. Publicly available online visitor comments were occasionally consulted to illustrate how national sentiment informs heritage reception. Only anonymized comments from open platforms were used, and their inclusion is illustrative rather than statistical. In addition, this research is enriched by archival discourse analysis, which examines a comprehensive collection of graphical and textual materials on commemorative activities to trace the evolving interpretations of the Battle of Waterloo. This approach allows for an in-depth analysis of how EU heritage policies and broader geopolitical narratives have influenced the battlefield’s representation over time.
Waterloo: History and memory
The Battle of Waterloo was fought on 18 June 1815. After returning from exile from Elba in March 1815, Napoleon Bonaparte decided to strike at the allied armies in Belgium to seize the initiative. The French army under the command of Napoleon was defeated at Waterloo by the two allied armies: An Anglo-allied army under the command of the Duke of Wellington and a Prussian army under the command of Field Marshal von Blücher. This battle, which claimed approximately 50,000 casualties from both sides, marked the end of the French Revolutionary-Napoleonic wars since 1792 and brought relative peace to Europe until the outbreak of the First World War.
During the past two centuries, the Battle of Waterloo entered the collective memory of the former belligerents with different and changing connotations, while the physical battlefield was transformed into a place filled with monuments and commemorative activities. During the immediate years after the battle, the victorious side used the battlefield to commemorate the fallen individuals and promote nationalism (Forrest, 2016) by building numerous monuments. British and German commemorations celebrated Waterloo as a victory against an arch-advisory and a pivotal moment in their nations’ founding myths (Britain in forming the British Empire and Germany in the unification of Germany). After Belgium gained its independence from the Netherlands in 1839, the battlefield became a symbol of Belgian courage (Belgian soldiers fought on both sides at Waterloo) and independence from France and the Netherlands (Bousmar, 2015; Forrest, 2015). The concept of a ‘glorious defeat’ in French commemoration frames the Battle of Waterloo as a loss that, rather than diminishing national pride, is celebrated for the courage and heroism displayed by the French forces, turning their defeat into a symbol of valour and sacrifice (Clarke, 2015; Fitzpatrick, 2019; Forrest, 2015, 2016). Thus, Waterloo has been continuously utilized by various nations to foster nationalism by transforming the battlefield into a site where national identities are both commemorated and reinforced, with each nation highlighting its own values, heroism, and historical significance in relation to the battle.
The years following the Second World War have witnessed a change in the narrative of Waterloo’s remembrance. A narrative that Waterloo should be remembered in the development of European reconciliation and integration was adopted by the authorities and became more prominent with the development of the EU (Bousmar, 2015). Such a narrative was already visible in the immediate years after the Second World War. For example, in 1951, at the inauguration ceremony of the Caillou farm, 1 the French ambassador stated that the Lion, 2 once a ‘negative’ symbol, did not prevent France from helping Belgium in 1831, 1914 and 1940 (he did not mention the occasions when France was a threat to Belgium). British and Dutch were referred to as ‘us’, and they were ‘united in the same enterprise’. He went on, adding that today when Western Europe is facing another threat (i.e. the Soviet threat), the battlefield of Waterloo must be regarded as a symbol: no battle can separate peoples forever, and we can always hope that former enemies can be united on the common ground in peace 3 (see Bousmar, 2015: 30). Here, the speech is actively constructing a sense of European collectivity (albeit limited to Western Europe at the time) by contrasting ‘us’ (the West) with ‘them’ (the East). This division is framed through the lens of differing values, and past symbolism of animosity and opposition was regarded as ‘negative’.
The focus on European integration shaped the subsequent tone of Waterloo’s commemoration. However, the commemoration of Waterloo was not always universally embraced, particularly by France, which notably refused to participate in both the 150th and 200th anniversary commemorations in 1965 and 2015. Nationalistic interpretations of the battle still persist, as seen in Waterloo’s appropriation during the Brexit campaign 4 and in diplomatic tensions between France and Belgium over a commemorative coin. 5 Nevertheless, official commemoration of the battle has clearly leaned towards a cosmopolitan narrative, as the bicentenary in 2015 saw leaders from EU institutions and various European countries participate in events promoting a more inclusive, transnational memory of Waterloo. A British speech delivered during the 200th Anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo 6 remarked, ‘This anniversary is about commemoration, not celebration; about peace, not triumph; and about respect, not rivalry’. The speech went on to say, ‘We remember past battles to honour those who served, to remember those who died, and to ensure that the lessons learned live with us forever’. The British–Belgian relationship was highlighted, based on the common value of ‘freedom’. At Hougoumont farm, 7 a performative handshake between the descendants of the former commanders was captured in a photograph, as if the centuries of hatred and enmity between the nations could be erased by this symbolic gesture. A similar remark was made by the French ambassador to the United Kingdom, stating that ‘if Waterloo was a battle which pitted France and Britain against each other, today we are celebrating the unity that has since prevailed’. 8
The EU’s presence in the commemoration of Waterloo was evident, with its narrative of the battle clearly articulated in the speech delivered by then-first vice-president Frans Timmermans. In his address, he linked the battle to the EU, stating that ‘the bloody battle that took place here 200 years ago did not just change one community; it has changed and influenced Europe’. He further emphasized the enduring relevance of historic events, asserting, ‘What happens in one part of Europe affects us all; what happens in one century continues to have an impact in the next. This was true 200 years ago, and it is still true today’.
Timmermans proceeded to highlight core European values by envisioning a child born in 1815, growing up in a Europe seen as a ‘fertile soil for culture and creativity’ and witnessing the ‘birth of European nations’. He framed the nations as ‘countries that now, together with their citizens, form the constitutive parts of a European interdependence’. By the age of 55, this child would have witnessed the Franco-Prussian War and, as Timmermans noted, the two world wars, which he referred to as ‘a double attempt at collective European suicide’. The ensuing horrors and devastation, he said, were the very circumstances ‘when the idea of European unity was born’.
Timmermans then outlined the founding principles of the EU, emphasizing values such as ‘dialogue and democracy, openness and opportunity, freedom, and the rule of law’. He positioned the EU as distinct from previous attempts at continental unity, describing it as ‘a Union which does not replace the nation-states of Europe, but builds on them, and supports them in a world where their sovereignty and strength could otherwise easily be lost’.
In conclusion, he reminded the audience of the ‘horrors of war and terror’ and called for collective action, urging: ‘To keep war at bay, to build lasting peace, to bring the peoples of Europe ever closer together: that is our common duty, that is our common destiny’.
A common message found in these speeches and gestures is a clear focus on peace, reconciliation, and European integration. The remarks from both British and French authorities emphasized the importance of peace and reconciliation between former adversaries, a sentiment symbolized most vividly by the handshake at Hougoumont. This symbolic gesture underscored the broader theme of healing old wounds and moving beyond past enmity. Furthermore, the emphasis on shared values was evident in these activities. While both British and French statements highlighted concepts like ‘freedom’ and ‘unity’, Frans Timmermans’ speech went further, explicitly emphasizing European values that resonate with Prutsch’s (2015) findings on the role of common values in fostering a collective European identity.
In Timmermans’ speech, the connection between past conflicts, shared values, and European integration was made particularly explicit. He began by establishing the interconnectedness of European states, creating a sense of collectivity that underpins the EU’s narrative. He then linked the Battle of Waterloo to the two world wars, effectively placing it within the same continuum of conflicts that served as key reference points in the origins of European integration (Prutsch, 2015: 15). By invoking the devastation and terror of these wars, he reinforced the idea that peace lies at the heart of the commemoration. However, he suggested that achieving lasting peace requires further integration among European nations – an integration embodied by the EU and rooted in shared values that, notably, began to take shape in the aftermath of Waterloo. By incorporating Waterloo into the EU’s founding myth, Timmermans positioned the battle as part of a historical trajectory leading to European unity. His speech ultimately implied that the EU, as a peace project, remains a vital mechanism for maintaining stability among European nations. In doing so, he reinforced the EU’s legitimacy and subtly advocated for its continued consolidation as a transnational institution. This strategy aligns with Prutsch’s (2015) argument, emphasizing the EU as a peace initiative and highlighting common values, such as democracy, as the unifying force that binds European states and citizens together. By framing European integration as a project rooted in shared principles responding to the horrors of war, the speech reinforces the idea that the EU is not merely a political or economic entity but a collective effort to ensure lasting peace and stability in Europe.
The authoritative narrative of Waterloo museums
To firmly establish narratives of war and conflict and construct a shared understanding of the past, historical events must undergo a process of ‘heritagization’, defined as the ‘cultural processes and performances associated with acts of remembering, forgetting, commemorating, and re-presenting the past’ (Carr and Sturdy Colls, 2016: 704). This process can take various forms, including commemorative ceremonies and museums, both of which serve as platforms for shaping collective understanding of the past. The commemoration of Waterloo, with its emphasis on common values, functions as a commemorative ritual and a grand narrative – both serving as repositories that semiotically represent a socially constructed and engineered past (Schwartz, 1996; Zerubavel, 1996). Beyond official ceremonies, museums also play a crucial role in shaping collective historical consciousness, particularly in reinforcing state-sanctioned narratives (Anderson, 1983; Gable and Handler, 2000; Macdonald, 2013).
As of 2024, there are four major museums located on or near the former battlefield and its vicinity: Memorial 1815, the largest museum at the battlefield; Wellington Museum, the site where the commander of the Allied army, the Duke of Wellington, stayed the night before the battle; Napoleon’s Last Headquarters, where Napoleon spent the night before the battle; and Mount-Saint-Jean Farm, a farmhouse used by the Allied army as a field hospital during the battle.
All museums are funded by local municipal and provincial authorities, with no direct involvement from the EU. Nevertheless, interviews with management staff suggest that the narratives promoted in the museums reflect values central to the EU, such as peace, reconciliation, and European integration. Notably, the exhibition at Memorial 1815 was designed by a transnational committee of historians from Belgium, France, Germany and Great Britain, which may helped shape its explicitly European perspective. As a staff member at the Waterloo tourism office stated, ‘The authority is trying to downplay the battle and the dead. They want to represent Waterloo as the beginning of a new Europe. They want to show these men died for good’. 9 This statement suggests that the museums aim to highlight the ‘positive’ aspects of the battle. The educational and communication project coordinator at Napoleon’s Last Headquarters explained, ‘We do not wish to highlight nor promote war in our museum, far from it’. 10 Instead, the heritage of the Battle of Waterloo is pacified and reconciled by emphasizing its ‘constructive’ impact on European history. The exhibitions and communications coordinator of Wellington Museum echoed this sentiment, stating, ‘We want to explain the importance of the battle in the construction of Europe’. 11 The former marketing and communication manager of Memorial 1815 confirmed the same purpose for the largest museum on site. 12 Although the then cultural manager of the Memorial was not entirely satisfied with this version of interpretation, he nevertheless agreed that one of the museum’s purposes is to inform visitors about the casualties and the peace that resulted from the battle. 13 The agendas of the museums are thus clear: to present Waterloo in line with the EU’s representation of the event, focusing on peace and the role of Waterloo in European integration.
Contextualizing the battle: Minimizing military narratives in favour of European history
To translate this narrative into practice, the museums adopted several strategies. The first is to minimize the focus on the battle itself, particularly on army manoeuvres and battle tactics. Visitors to the heritage site will notice that the exhibitions do not centre on the battle per se. Instead, the museums place the battle within a broader context that aligns with their respective agendas. While there are small sections on uniforms, weaponry, and tactics, the exhibition largely downplays the military aspects of the battle, which have traditionally been a point of interest for many visitors (e.g. Semmel, 2000). For example, at the Wellington Museum, the Battle of Waterloo occupies only two of its fifteen exhibition rooms. 14 The majority of the exhibition is dedicated to the protagonists who participated in the battle, with Waterloo framed as part of the lives of these historical figures. In contrast, Napoleon’s Last Headquarters offers almost no information about the battle, aside from a small map in the first exhibition room. The museum focuses on the events that occurred within the house itself, treating the battle lightly – its name is mentioned only in the audio guides and a few labels.
A more direct way of emphasizing the EU narrative is by explicitly linking the Battle of Waterloo to the European Union. Before 2017, the Wellington Museum’s old audio guide concluded with the EU anthem, subtly reinforcing this connection. Memorial 1815, however, takes a much more deliberate approach, dedicating significant space and effort to situating the battle within a broader European historical trajectory. Two-thirds of the exhibition is devoted to the origins and aftermath of the battle, presenting a historical continuum that extends from the French Revolution to the First World War.
In this narrative, the French Revolution and Napoleon are portrayed in a largely positive light, emphasizing their roles in modernizing France, preserving revolutionary achievements such as legal equality, and restoring stability after years of upheaval. Napoleon, in particular, is depicted as a charismatic leader whose reforms and military successes had a lasting impact on France and Europe, with his legacy still visible in contemporary European institutions. Towards the end of the exhibition, visitors walk along a wall of historical events that directly link Waterloo to the First World War – effectively associating the battle with one of the defining moments in the EU’s foundation myth (Prutsch, 2015: 15).
The exhibition concludes with a documentary covering European history from the Middle Ages to the Treaty of Rome (1957), a pivotal milestone in the establishment of the EU. By positioning Waterloo as a crucial turning point and the beginning of modern Europe, the film connects it to major historical developments, including the rise of the British Empire, the Industrial Revolution, German Unification, the European Concert System, the two World Wars, and ultimately, the foundation of the EU and the process of European integration. This approach reinforces the idea that Waterloo was not merely a military event but a catalyst in shaping the trajectory of European history, culminating in the political and economic unity that the EU represents today.
At Memorial 1815, rather than portraying Waterloo from the perspective of a single nation, the museum contextualizes the battle within a broader European history, emphasizing its role in shaping modern Europe and the path to integration. However, not all visitors accept this interpretation. Many British visitors react negatively to Memorial 1815’s presentation, arguing that it glorifies Napoleon while minimizing British presence. Some dismissed the museum as a ‘Napoleon glorification centre’ 15 and begin questioning if the funding of the museum was provided by the French. Another visitor remarked, ‘There is too little about us British’, ‘Everything is about Napoleon, but where is Wellington?’ 16 Some visitors went further, accusing the museum of pushing ‘EU propaganda’. 17
A more explicit example of ongoing national heritage practices within Waterloo’s commemorative landscape is Hougoumont Farm. Although it is an integral part of the museum, its restoration was largely funded by the British government. 18 Hougoumont specifically commemorates the role of British troops in the battle, most notably through the ‘British Army Closing the Gates on War’ statue. This life-size sculpture, depicting two soldiers struggling to close the critical gates of the farm to prevent it from being overrun by the French, was commissioned by the British government. While its intended message is one of ‘peace’, aligning with the EU’s broader narrative, the statue has been received in divergent ways. A visitor comment on Tripadvisor 19 praised the British-funded renovation of Hougoumont while noting ‘no sign of EU money’, adding that such contributions would continue ‘when we leave the EU’—a statement that links Waterloo directly to Brexit-era national sentiment. However, some visitors from Francophone countries have criticized its interpretation for focusing too narrowly on British contributions while neglecting the German forces who also fought at Hougoumont, stating that the British are ‘crazy about Hougoumont’ to the extent that the farmhouse has become a ‘cathedral’ for them. 20 A Dutch tour guide working at the battlefield remarked, ‘It is like the British pointing a finger at our noses and saying that we saved you from Napoleon and you should be grateful’. 21
From this perspective, Hougoumont serves as an example of ‘cosmopolitan nationalism’ (Daugbjerg, 2009), in which British military action at Waterloo is framed both as a heroic national achievement and as a contribution to European peace. While reinforcing British memory and identity, it does so through a universalizing narrative that aligns military valour with humanitarian ideals. This approach is similar to how other battlefield sites, such as Dybbøl, have been reinterpreted as symbols of pacification rather than conquest. However, this selective framing elevates one national group’s role while appealing to broader values of reconciliation.
In sum, the visitor responses to Memorial 1815 and the case of Hougoumont illustrate that while the EU has sought to redefine Waterloo as a symbol of European unity, national perspectives on the battle remain deeply embedded in its commemorative landscape.
Commemorating suffering: Using human loss to reinforce a European peace narrative
The second strategy to downplay the battle and avoid glorifying warfare is to emphasize the loss of human life. Studies (e.g. Arnold, 2004; Paites and Reeve, 2018) have shown that displaying wartime medical tools and death-related objects can have profound emotional effects on visitors. By presenting scenes of human suffering and remains, the museums aim to foster a deeper, more personal connection between visitors and the past. This strategy prompts reflection on the costs of war, not just in terms of territorial or political outcomes, but in the lives lost and the human suffering endured. As Winter (2012: 162) suggests, these types of exhibits encourage visitors to empathize with those who lived through these horrific events and, in turn, challenge them to reconsider the nationalistic narratives of battle.
This approach is evident across all four museums on the heritage site, demonstrating a collective intention to shift the focus from victory/defeat to the tragic consequences of war. The Wellington Museum, for instance, dedicates two rooms to war casualties and medical devices (the number equals that focusing on the battle itself). Through the use of texts, objects, and audio guides, visitors are not only educated about the primitive medical conditions of the time but also forced to confront the physical reality of war. By showing the devastation and agony caused by the battle, the museum strips away the romanticized view of warfare, replacing it with the stark reality of its consequences. Similarly, Mount-Saint-Jean Farm, which focuses on the field hospital experience, fills its small space with medical objects, texts, and images. One of the rooms recreates the surgery scene by using gauze and board, with pictures illustrating the horrible wounds the soldiers had. Together, the exhibitions offer an unflinching look at the horrors of the battle.
Napoleon’s Last Headquarters and Memorial 1815 continue this pattern, highlighting the physical and emotional toll of war. At Memorial 1815, immediately after leaving a film room showing the battle through reenactment, visitors would encounter a wooden dead horse placed upside down, accompanied by Wellington’s sombre words: ‘Believe me, nothing except a battle lost can be half so melancholy as a battle won’. This poignant imagery emphasizes the futility of victory in the face of overwhelming loss. Nearby, a soldier’s skeleton is displayed alongside a large painting that illustrates the aftermath of the battle: a battlefield strewn with the dead and wounded, an unsettling reminder of the indiscriminate nature of war. Napoleon’s Last Headquarters also displays a skeleton; however, unlike the complete skeleton at Memorial 1815, this one is made up of parts from different individuals, implying the scale of human life lost in the battle.
Discoveries of human remains at Waterloo are rare, partly because the battlefield became a site for collectors immediately after the battle (Seaton, 1999). The few remains that have been recovered have since been incorporated into museum exhibitions. The display of human remains at Memorial 1815 has raised ethical concerns among some scholars, who argue that burial would be more appropriate (Sandhu, 2015). However, the museum defends its decision by emphasizing the soldier’s anonymity, suggesting that he serves as ‘the anonymous and silent representative of the dozens of thousands of men who perished that day in the same tragic circumstances’ (Bosquet et al., 2015: 19). While the commemoration of the unknown soldier has traditionally been linked to nationalism (Anderson, 1983), in this context, its nationalistic nature is removed by deliberately avoiding any association of the soldier’s identity with a specific nation. Studies have also shown that human remains in exhibitions can foster education, respect, and empathy (Curtis, 2003; Gill, 2022), and in the Waterloo museums, they serve as a stark reminder of the immense human cost of war, encouraging visitors to reflect on its devastating consequences.
The deliberate highlight of human suffering is common in ‘dark tourism’, practice of visiting sites associated with death, tragedy, or historical trauma (Lennon and Foley, 2000). As Sturken (2007) suggests, sites of human tragedy evoke both fear and a longing for safety, reinforcing the contrast between a traumatic past and a secure present. This process allows visitors to temporarily engage with a ‘dangerous’ history while ultimately reassuring them of their distance from such violence. Similarly, Huyssen (2003) argues that historical trauma can serve as a lens through which visitors engage with contemporary issues of human rights, justice, and collective responsibility. In Waterloo museums, the depictions of wounds, amputations, a reconstructed surgery scene, and the display of human remains evoke the gruesome reality of injuries and suffering, eliciting an emotional response and urging visitors to reflect on the immense human cost of war. One visitor remarked that the display of the skeleton and sketches of wounded soldiers ‘brought tears to my eyes’, 22 while others expressed gratitude towards the soldiers who ‘sacrificed’ for the peace and tranquillity we enjoy today. 23 These reactions highlight the emotional impact of the exhibits, reinforcing the museums’ aim to provoke reflection on the human cost of war and the value of peace.
When examining Waterloo museums’ emphasis on human loss within the broader context of EU memory and heritage agendas, it becomes evident how this focus on the horrors of war contributes to shaping an EU interpretation of Waterloo. The EU’s foundation is often framed as a peace initiative aimed at preventing further conflicts between European nations, which is achieved by raising awareness of the devastation caused by war to reinforce its legitimacy (see Prutsch, 2015; Sierp, 2023). A museum sign at Mont Saint-Jean Farm explicitly reminds visitors that the exhibition aims to pay tribute to those ‘who fought bravely for the freedom and peace that we live in today’. 24 And this freedom and peace are upheld, granted, and protected by the EU. Through the display of medical tools, images of wounds and death, and human remains, the museums confront visitors with the material consequences of war, starkly contrasting them with the peace and stability of the present. This approach has the potential to provoke reflection on the nature of war and a deeper appreciation for peace. In doing so, it aligns with the broader European heritage agenda, which assumes that an EU interpretation of the past can be fostered by confronting Europe’s violent history. This, in turn, encourages citizens to engage meaningfully with the origins of the EU, the history of European integration as a civilizing project dedicated to peace, and the role of today’s Europe in continuing that mission – ultimately moving beyond the past to build a shared future (Prutsch, 2015: 16). In this context, the commemoration of Waterloo functions not only as a historical reflection but as a narrative tool that integrates past suffering into a broader EU framework of peace and reconciliation. Through this approach, the museums transform a battlefield into a space where memory, trauma, and European unity intersect, reinforcing the EU’s foundational message that understanding war and suffering is key to preventing its recurrence.
Discussion and conclusion: Translating EU agendas into practice at Waterloo
This study has explored how the EU’s heritage policies and narratives are translated into practice at the Waterloo Battlefield, shedding light on the strategies employed to frame the site within broader European discourses of reconciliation, peace, and integration. Through an analysis of official commemorations, museum exhibitions, and visitor interactions, this research has illustrated the mechanisms through which the battlefield has been reinterpreted to align with EU memory politics. However, it has also highlighted the challenges inherent in these processes, particularly the persistence of national perspectives that continue to shape the site’s reception.
A central finding of this study is that the EU’s involvement in heritage management and interpretation is not simply about the preservation of historical sites but also about shaping collective memory in ways that serve contemporary political and ideological objectives (Macdonald, 2013). At Waterloo, this is evident in the ways official narratives have reframed the battle’s significance – not as a moment of national triumph or defeat but as a key episode in a longer historical trajectory leading towards European integration. In this sense, the EU’s commemorative narrative can be seen as a form of re-sacralization – one that substitutes nationalist heroism with a moral imperative for peace and European integration. Much like Seaton’s (1999) sacralization of nineteenth-century Waterloo, the EU narrative invests the battlefield with symbolic authority, now grounded in shared values rather than nationalistic memory.
A key strategy at Waterloo is the recontextualization of the battle within a broader European historical narrative. Rather than focusing on military strategies or national victories, museums and official commemorations downplay the battle’s immediate military aspects, framing it as part of Europe’s long journey towards cooperation and integration (Prutsch, 2015). Exhibitions extend beyond 1815, linking Waterloo to the two world wars and European integration, reinforcing the idea that unity emerged from a history of conflict and reconciliation, with the EU as a guarantor of peace.
Another strategy is emphasizing human suffering to discourage glorified or nationalistic interpretations. Museums highlight casualties, medical conditions, and battlefield trauma, shifting the visitor experience from admiration to reflection on war’s costs. Displays of skeletons, medical instruments, and depictions of battlefield surgery reinforce this message, portraying Waterloo not as a site of victory or defeat but of immense human loss. By confronting visitors with war’s material consequences, this approach supports EU heritage policies, which argue that engaging with Europe’s violent past fosters commitment to European integration and legitimizes the EU as a peace initiative (Prutsch, 2015; Sierp, 2023).
While these strategies clearly reflect an effort to align Waterloo with EU memory politics, their effectiveness varies. As this study has demonstrated, national interpretations of the battle persist, both among visitors and within elements of the battlefield’s heritage landscape. This is particularly evident in the critical responses from English and Francophone visitors towards Memorial 1815 and Hougoumont Farm. The exhibition on human suffering, while successfully prompting some visitors to reflect on the peace they enjoy today, appears unlikely to establish a clear connection to the EU as the guarantor of that peace, as none of the interviewed visitors made reference to the EU in this context.
As Sharon Macdonald (2002) observed, museum choices can lead to unintended ambiguity and confusion, with certain displays being interpreted in ways that diverge from their intended message. The findings from Waterloo suggest that ‘memory wars’ (e.g. Koposov, 2017; Stone, 2012) can arise over the interpretation and memorialization of historical events. While ‘wars’ may be an exaggeration, these tensions highlight the presence of counter-memories – alternative narratives that challenge official versions of the past and heritage practices (Foucault, 1977). Such responses demonstrate that, despite institutional efforts to Europeanize the battlefield’s interpretation, national memory practices continue to shape visitor perceptions, revealing the complexities of heritage construction in a transnational context.
Waterloo illustrates the broader challenges of EU heritage politics (Prutsch, 2015), where efforts to construct a shared European memory must contend with deeply rooted national identities. Rather than erasing national perspectives, EU-driven narratives are negotiated alongside them, creating a hybrid commemorative space where conflicting interpretations coexist. While official narratives shape commemorations and museum exhibitions, visitor engagement remains influenced by pre-existing memory frameworks, limiting top-down heritage initiatives. This study underscores the challenges of translating transnational agendas into practice, revealing that Europeanization of heritage is possible but rarely uncontested. Waterloo exemplifies how the EU, like nation-states, uses historical memory to reinforce identity and legitimacy, yet its success depends on local contexts and the resilience of national narratives (Vos, 2011). Macdonald (2013) conceptualizes heritage as a negotiated process shaped by multiple actors, a perspective particularly relevant to Waterloo, where EU-driven narratives of reconciliation coexist with persistent national memory practices.
Future research could build on these findings by exploring how visitor engagement with EU-driven heritage narratives varies across different demographic and national groups, a field of study which is currently lacking despite a few studies (Gable and Handler, 2000; Smith, 2021). Ethnographic studies of visitor experiences, for example, could provide deeper insights into how individuals interact with and interpret the narratives presented at Waterloo. Comparative analyses of other battlefield sites undergoing similar reinterpretations – such as Verdun (Prost, 2002) – could further illuminate the broader dynamics of EU memory politics in practice. And from there, perhaps improve the heritage practices in a more democratic, participatory way (see van den Bergh, 2022).
In conclusion, the transformation of Waterloo into a European heritage site demonstrates both the ambitions and the challenges of EU heritage politics. While the battlefield has been reframed to emphasize themes of reconciliation and unity, the persistence of national memory practices highlights the enduring influence of national identity at heritage sites. As the EU continues to engage in memory politics, understanding how these narratives are negotiated on the ground will remain critical for assessing the long-term impact of European heritage initiatives. This study highlights the ways in which official narratives are implemented through commemorative events and museum practices but also emphasizes that visitor engagement with these narratives is not uniform. Rather than replacing national perspectives, the EU’s efforts at Waterloo function as an additional layer of interpretation – one that coexists with, rather than overrides, existing historical understandings. Ultimately, the case of Waterloo serves as a valuable microcosm of broader debates over European identity, memory, and the role of heritage in shaping contemporary political discourse.
