De-‘bunking’ History
As a final year History student, who’s graduating in the class of COVID-19, facing teasing questions of “why would anyone study dead people?” and jesting suggestions to “just live in the present” comes with the territory.
Although these comments have never been taken to heart, their sentiment is actually something that is worth properly considering. It is not a new criticism, after all. In 1916, Henry Ford (famed inventor and entrepreneur) provided one of his most infamous quotes to a reporter for the Chicago Tribune:
So, was Henry Ford on the money when he said, “History is more or less bunk”? Absolutely not.
Even at a surface level, our fascination with the past is inescapable. The British war film ‘1917’ won numerous awards only last year for its harrowing portrayal of two soldiers’ race against time during the First World War. The popular dramatised chronicling of Queen Elizabeth’s reign in Netflix’s ‘The Crown’ continues to warrant it being the most expensive series ever made to date. Our past evidently still holds a firm place in the heart of audiences. If History was truly redundant, we would not see it occupying a central position on our living room screens today.
Perhaps one of the most innate incentives behind wanting to uncover our histories comes from the fact that they invoke a sense of belonging. An identity. Whether we’re discovering our own family tree, learning about the roots of our hometown or being taught about the forging of our nation, all of this helps to define us. Our pasts are an incredibly cohesive device.
This glue-like nature of History is unquestionably one of the motivations behind why all modern nations support its teaching in some form (besides its useful analytical qualities). In times gone by, the framework of ‘national history’ was the dominant format. These national stories could be used to bolster the state’s desired narrative; they promoted certain values and encouraged a commitment towards national loyalty. It is worth remembering this powerful potential when we consider the format of our state-provided curriculums. Often, a country’s History syllabus has been designed to reinforce a certain narrative because governments have recognised the influence that our past image can have on people’s current perceptions. Of course, this can sometimes be abused too.
In most cases, these national histories define ‘the other’ as much as ‘the self’. Using shared pasts to identify a certain group can simultaneously label those who exist outside of this as ‘the other’, polarising the two groups. For further reading on this, Linda Colley’s argument in ‘Britishness and Otherness’ contains insightful examples that neatly tie these concepts together.
Since the latter half of twentieth century, however, national histories have been forced to make way for some new approaches too. Other compelling frameworks, such as transnational, global, social, postcolonial, gendered and environmental histories have started to flourish too, to name just a few. As these have emerged, a space has formed in which more identities can be embraced. As Colley explains herself, “identities are not like hats. Human beings can and do put on several at a time”.
History similarly provides a terrain for us to understand alternative societies and cultures. Once we start to move beyond our own pasts and begin uncovering the heritages of other civilisations, we are able to become far more open-minded in our outlook. This is an outcome that is by no means exclusive to History. Any discipline, that devotes ample attention to the unique ways in which individual cultures have survived and thrived, highlights how society has rarely had one prescribed method for existence.
Equally, comparing histories often reveals a degree of universality to human experience. Whether you are studying medieval kings or modern-day diplomats, many of the basic motivations that drive figures’ behaviours tend to be akin. Historians, ultimately, are usually focusing on these human behaviours and the circumstances that influenced their decisions.
Social scientists likewise dedicate themselves to formulating the theories that underpin these patterns but, even these within these fields, they frequently rely upon some historical information. Peter Stearns proposes that many of the major aspects of a society’s functioning (including general elections, missionary activities or military alliances) cannot be set up in precise experiments. Accordingly, “History must serve, however imperfectly, as our laboratory, and data from the past must serve as our most vital evidence in the unavoidable quest to figure out why our complex species behaves as it does in societal settings”. In short, historical evidence is invaluable.
It is highly probable that you are familiar with philosopher George Santayana’s aphorism: “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” This is one of the favourite rhetorics used to champion History. The past is there to help us better ourselves; to let us learn from our mistakes.
Yet, some historians have openly challenged this premise when it comes to atrocities. In the late 1980s, when debates arose concerning whether British school children should be required to learn about the Holocaust, Lionel Kochan voiced his doubts. In his words, “knowledge of past brutality…[had] never prevented their repetition”. To an extent, this is true. Sadly, History books have often retold the same tragic stories. However, this is not a failing of History but instead quite the opposite. Although the “knowledge of past brutality” may be available in academic circles (or even vaguely amongst the public), it must be actively engaged with on a more profound level and on a wider scale, if we are to try to create real change for the years to come.
So, to oppose Mr Ford: No, History certainly is not “bunk”. It is a rich and dynamic subject, which will continue to have a vital role across multiple disciplines. Studying the past solidifies our identities, opens up pathways to other explore distant realms and can bestow a unique toolkit to help us learn… but only if we choose to open the lid.