Memory is not merely recollection. It is identity, resistance, reflection, and spirituality. In Arabic, the words that describe memory reveal that remembering is an active choice—one that permeates how we live as individuals and as communities.
The Root “dh-k-r” ذكر
At the heart of many Arabic words related to memory lies the root “dh-k-r” ذكر, which encompasses meanings like “to remember,” “to mention,” and “to affirm.” This root carries a profound lesson: remembering is not just recalling something to mind. It is a deliberate act of giving importance and presence to what truly matters—an assertion of identity and history.
Spiritual Memory
The word “dhikr,” which refers to the remembrance of God, illustrates that memory is not solely tied to the past. It is also deeply anchored in the present—a timeless moment that reconnects us to our authentic selves and to the Divine. The Quran beautifully reminds us: “Remember Me, and I will remember you” (2:152).
This notion of spiritual memory invites reflection and mindfulness. In Arab cultural and spiritual practices, the remembrance of the Divine weaves through daily life. Common expressions like alhamdulillah (thanks to God) and inshallah (if God wills) highlight this connection, transcending religious boundaries and offering a universal language of gratitude and hope.
Personal Memory
The term “dhakira” (ذكرة), referring to personal memory, is the hidden treasure we carry within—a bridge to our past that shapes who we are. Without personal memory, who would we be? It is through our memories that we construct our identities, values, and ways of engaging with the world.
Yet, memory is inherently selective. The stories we tell about our past are shaped not only by the events themselves but by who we are in the present and by the perspectives we choose to highlight. Consider a significant life event you’ve shared multiple times. Does the way you narrate it change depending on your audience, context, or stage of life? This fluidity underscores that memory is not a fixed archive but a dynamic narrative shaped by reflection and purpose.
Reflecting on Memory
Memory is not merely the act of recall. The term “tadhakkur” (تذكر) conveys the active process of bringing a memory to the surface to learn from it and use it as a guide for the present. It is a conscious, reflective act that engages the mind, heart, and spirit.
In a spiritual context, tadhakkur often relates to the remembrance of God and reflection on His blessings and signs. In the Quran, believers are called to pause, reflect, and recognize the beauty and purpose of creation. This practice transforms memory into a tool for growth, resilience, and spiritual evolution.
Collective Memory
The concept of dhikra (ذكرى)—shared or collective memory—represents the stories, experiences, and events that bind communities and generations. However, like any narrative, collective memory is never neutral. When memory becomes history, it inherently reflects a point of view. It is selective—choosing which events to highlight, minimize, distort, or omit entirely.
This process of selection is rarely arbitrary. It often serves a purpose: to reinforce national identity, legitimize political systems, or sustain narratives that benefit those in power. Wars, for instance, are frequently remembered in ways that glorify one side and vilify the other, erasing the suffering of those caught in the middle. Oppressors and oppressed are placed on the same plane, and movements for justice are reduced to “disruptions” or “terrorism,” depending on the narrative.
A truly just collective memory centers the voices of those who lived through the events. It does not erase pain but acknowledges it. It does not hide injustices but exposes them. It does not glorify power but restores dignity to those who endured its abuses.
Why Remembering Is Resisting
The Arabic language teaches us that memory is never a passive act. It is a form of resistance—a means of affirming spirituality, identity, and community. To remember is not only to avoid forgetting but to keep alive the essence of who we are.
Memory is a tool of power. That is why we must distrust selective and constructed narratives, making room for the voices of those who have experienced history firsthand. Authentic memory does not erase, distort, or omit. It sheds light on the past to build a more just present.
