The role of arts and literature in alleviating collective trauma

By Ezat Mossallanejad, Settlement counsellor, policy analyst and research at Canadian Centre for Victims of Torture

Iranian society is living through a profound state of shock following the brutality of the recent crackdown. There is scarcely a family untouched by loss. Friends, relatives, neighbors almost everyone mourns someone. In this moment of collective grief, it is vital that Iranians in exile prioritize emergency solidarity and support for affected individuals and families, rather than becoming absorbed in endless polemics or sterile rhetorical debates.

In a previous article, I discussed the impacts of collective trauma and suggested ways to alleviate them. In this piece, I reflect on the role of arts and literature in healing the wounds left by collective trauma. Through artistic and literary expression, survivors can release inner tension, give voice to pain buried deep within, strengthen coping capacities, and develop resilience and self-awareness. Perhaps most importantly, art reassures survivors that they are not alone.

Arts and literature act as mirrors reflecting pain and helplessness, but also hope, imagination, dignity, and resistance. They illuminate the human condition and awaken empathy in others. Across history, communities facing mass trauma have relied on creative expression to survive, resist, and remember.

Historical examples of healing through art

For more than 2,500 years, the Jewish people have endured recurring collective catastrophes and developed cultural mechanisms for survival by weaving together religious belief, poetry, ritual, and memory. Experiences of destruction have often been expressed through liturgical poetry and communal practices in synagogues. A classic example is the Book of Lamentations. Through piyyutim, selihot, and kinot, Jewish communities articulate grief, commemorate victims, and confront the possibility of future disasters. As David Roskies observes, “Memory, mourning, and catastrophe are woven into the very fabric of traditional Jewish life.” (Roskies, D. G., 1988)

Between 1914 and 1921, Armenians, Assyrians, and Greek Christians were subjected to genocide in the Ottoman Empire. Arts and literature became tools of healing, resistance, and cultural preservation. In his poem Small, Armenian poet Gevorg Emin transforms historical suffering into dignity and pride:

 Yes, we are small…
Small, yes—
you compressed us, world,
into a diamond.
Small,
you scattered us like stars.
We are everywhere in your vision. (Hamalian, L. & Yohannan, J.D., 1978, p. 160)

Similarly, Armenian poet Zahrad (Zareh Yaldizciyan) invokes perseverance and resistance:

I am a tiny little lamp—
When the stars of the sad autumn sky
are extinguished by the wind,
let them be extinguished—
I shall burn. (p. 176)

During World War II, approximately 120,000 Japanese Americans were incarcerated in internment camps. There, art and poetry became means of restoring dignity and identity amid humiliation. Through drawings, paintings, and haikus, detainees affirmed both resilience and hope:

From the window of despair
may sky—
there is always tomorrow.

Even in the desert
four seasons are seen,
charming into a flannel nightshirt. (Merril Ingram, A., Marshall, I., Philippon, D.J. & Sweeting, A.W., 2007, pp. 42-52)

Resistance, Theatre, and Political Imagination

The German playwright and poet Bertolt Brecht (1898–1956) exemplifies the use of art as resistance against collective trauma. Forced into exile by the Nazi regime, Brecht dedicated his life to exposing fascism and mobilizing critical consciousness. He famously wrote, “Art is not a mirror held up to reality but a hammer with which to shape it.” (As quoted in Geary, J., 2007, p. 207)

Brecht’s concept of Epic Theatre rejected emotional manipulation and neat resolutions. Instead, it confronted audiences with unresolved contradictions, non-linear narratives, and critical distance—inviting reflection rather than passive consumption. His influence extended globally, particularly in refugee communities and traumatized societies.

Inspired by Brecht, Brazilian theatre practitioner Augusto Boal developed the Theatre of the Oppressed, a participatory form of street theatre that enables communities to explore injustice and imagine alternatives. In this form, spectators become actors, intervening directly to propose new outcomes—transforming theatre into a space of collective healing and political agency.

 Literature as survival and memory

 Uruguayan writer Mauricio Rosencof addressed layered collective trauma through his autobiographical novel The Letters That Never Came. As both a descendant of Holocaust survivors and a political prisoner under Uruguay’s military dictatorship, Rosencof bridged historical catastrophes through memory and imagination. Despite spending over eleven years in solitary confinement, he preserved his integrity through storytelling. As Ilan Stavans notes, Rosencof’s work links generations, geographies, and traumas, affirming survival through words. (Stavans, I., 2012, p. 158)

Similarly, Eduardo Galeano, in Memory of Fire, traces Latin America’s collective suffering while nurturing hope:

The tree of life knows that, whatever happens,
the warm music spinning around it will never stop. (Galeano, E., p. xiii)

 Palestinian Cultural Resistance

Palestinian writers and poets have long used literature as a form of resistance and healing. Figures such as Mahmoud Darwish and Nizar Qabbani transformed dispossession into poetic defiance:

Here on the slopes of hills…
We do what prisoners do,
and what the jobless do:
We cultivate hope. (As quoted in Waugh, L.B., 2013)

Such works offer solace and strength, especially to youth living under prolonged trauma.

Satire, memory, and Iranian resistance

Satire and oral history play a crucial role in confronting collective trauma. Satire does not seek personal revenge but social transformation; it dismantles tyranny while reconstructing dignity. For centuries, Iranian writers have used satire to expose injustice and ridicule despots. Yet in today’s Iran, tyranny has reached such extremes that symbolism itself struggles to keep pace with reality. No metaphor seems sufficient to represent the bloodstained brutality of the regime. Even the fiercest animals fall short as comparisons. In this void, collective storytelling and verbal history become essential tools for bridging the gap between experience and expression.

Iranian youth have already turned to rap, folklore, satire, mock songs, and digital storytelling to process trauma and resist repression. These creative forms are not only therapeutic but also vehicles for long-term transformation. While some artists have turned toward Iran’s ancient secular heritage as a refuge from religious violence, this impulse must not erase the rich cultural contributions of Iran’s ethnic and religious minorities.

The power of storytelling

Hans Christian Andersen once said that the best stories are those about life itself. In times of mass trauma, writers and artists must give voice to grief, restore humanity, and preserve memory. Stories circulating on social media such as the account of a father who saved a wounded stranger instead of retrieving his own son’s body serve as moral anchors. They remind us that even amid unspeakable brutality, humanity can still be rescued.

Iranian survivors of imprisonment and torture have long documented their suffering through memoirs and scholarship. Their work must continue. Even if a totalitarian regime confiscates everything, it cannot extinguish imagination. Writers, musicians, and artists bear the responsibility of transforming individual suffering into collective memory ensuring that each victim’s life is honored and remembered.

Pains find collective meaning

It is through arts and literature that private pain finds collective meaning and reaches a global audience. Creative expression enables political resistance, preserves memory, and restores hope. A society stripped of hope risks losing its identity.

Artists and writers are witnesses. Their work can heal communities crushed under repression, fill the voids created by censorship and silence, and guide future generations through the landscapes of memory. The Iranian regime thrives on division; arts and literature can restore unity, awareness, and dignity. Their liberating and therapeutic power remains indispensable now more than ever.