What follows is a stab at a topic that I am in no way qualified to speak to. It was prompted by lots of history podcasts recently and a conversation with my father-in-law at Thanksgiving.
File it under “Confidently Stated Musings”
History is, for lack of a better expression, the arranging of the accounts of human events into a coherent (though not necessarily complete/closed) narrative for the purpose of preserving cultural memory and perhaps also communicating to a particular audience a set of values. It is granted that history is a human artifact and that historians cannot provide an exhaustive description of the events in their purview, nor should they attempt to do so. All history is a selection of some set of facts and an omission of others. The choice of selection is, to some degree, at the historian’s discretion. In most cases, the so-called “actual” details of an event are lost or imperfectly preserved or accounts are contradictory.
So the question arises: is it the historian’s job to relate, to the best of his ability, what “actually” happened, or is it to tell a compelling story?
Is the historian obliged to say, “But we don’t really know” every other sentence? That is certainly tedious, but does honesty require it? If he knows that an account is to some degree doubtful, is he obliged to present it as doubtful to that same degree?
If the historian is trying to tell a compelling story, how much license does he have? Can he make up dialogue? Can he make up internal thoughts? Can he ascribe motives? Can he omit significant events for the sake of his narrative? By what standard? Do the ends (a good story) justify the means (dishonesty–remember you can effectively lie by only saying factually correct statements)?
Who judges what a good story is? Who judges what ends/values are noble enough to warrant formulating histories and myths to promote them?
I argue that God is the preeminent historian and that his word is the standard by which we judge stories. In order to walk the balance described above, we must conform our stories to his, we must be steeped in his word and devoted to his church. An end is noble because God says it is, not because it is convenient or pleasant to us. And the means by which an end is furthered is similarly defined by God in his word.
Holy Scripture contains all that is necessary for life and godliness (2 Pet. 1:3), and there is no moral situation to which the scriptures do not speak, in principle if not in detail.
If a historian falls on the side of “trying to tell a compelling story to further certain ends”, I am not categorically opposed. But the trust that I have in his history will be a direct function of his Christian piety. Is he a member in submission to a bible-believing church? Is he feeding on the word regularly? What is his prayer life like? Is he theologically literate, meaning is he able to read the scriptures and to some degree organize what they say? Do the stories of the Old Testament shape his imagination? Do the parables of Christ shape his ethics?
If all the above is lacking, I will take a “painstakingly accurate–tedium be damned!” historian every time, without question.
To the particular point of white-washing heroes, this the scriptures manifestly do not do. And they do not do it for a very obvious reason: because only one is good, and that is God alone. Man is wicked, down to his bones. The bad guys are wicked, the good guys are wicked, everybody is wicked. If we don’t get that, then we will fall into the “I can be good enough on my own” trap, which is the surest and oldest (though not the fastest) path to Hell. A society built upon a foundation that ignores the depravity of man is going to be a hell-hole before many moons have passed. The American system was founded on the doctrine of total depravity (among other things), and that’s about the only reason we’re still functioning as a people with such relative liberty.
I firmly argue that a history must not whitewash the heroes. This is not the same thing as constantly airing dirty laundry or trotting out all the most salacious stories. And sure, there are stories that can be told as simple moral exemplars (George Washington was brave and honest. You should be too.) But the myths of a people need to include the Truth that the sorrows of this sorry world are not going to be ended by us all just ginning up the will to do better. The only way to peace and plenty is through the gospel of Christ freely preached and wholeheartedly believed.
Everything else is the “Go to Hell slowly” plan.
Of Shoes and Ships 