THE CHALLENGE OF THE TIMES TO THE
HISTORIAN1
by CARL WITTKE
Professor of History and Dean of the
Graduate School,
Western Reserve University
The question is frequently asked
nowadays, Why do historians
have so little influence in public
affairs, and why have men and
women, who have been especially trained
to study and distill con-
clusions from the long experience of
the past, so little status as
counselors and molders of public
opinion in present-day society?
It is easy to exaggerate the influence
of historians of an earlier
day in this regard, and it must be
remembered that on some of the
burning questions of a century ago,
like slavery, the historical guild
had relatively little to say and rather
studiously avoided becoming
involved in the acrimonious sectional
controversy. Nevertheless,
history probably was more widely read
then than now, and certainly
historians of distinction were more
highly honored and respected,
and received more public recognition
from their fellow Americans.
The so-called "middle group of
literary historians" wrote dis-
tinguished history which was widely
read. One need only recall such
names as Motley, Prescott, Bancroft,
Parkman, and Fiske to make
the point. Parkman, despite his
physical affliction, produced a series
of volumes which stand up well before
the rigorous tests of modern
historical scholarship, yet they were
written in a beautiful, vivid
style that made them popular reading.
Motley's history of the
Netherlands was literature as well as
history, and Fiske, with a
mastery of several fields of learning,
had great influence on his
generation. Bancroft was not only
venerated as a distinguished his-
torian, but was rewarded with public
office.
Why have the disciples of Clio fallen
from that high estate? The
present generation goes for advice to
the scientist and the business-
man, or the psychiatrist, but seldom to
the men and women who
1 An extension of some remarks made at a
luncheon meeting of the Ohio Academy
of History, in Columbus, April 7, 1951.
1
2
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
have made the study of the past their
life's work, and presumably
should have something to say on the
subject of where we came from
and how we got to be what we are. Can
it be that men no longer
believe that it is possible to derive
lessons from the past, which
might enable them to avoid repeating
their earlier mistakes? Part
of the explanation may be found in this
industrial age, but part of
the responsibility rests upon the
historians themselves.
For one thing, in the laudable effort
to make history more ac-
curate, scholarly, scientific, and
dispassionate, the historical guild
has overlooked the necessity of making
what they write sufficiently
readable to give it meaning for the
general public. We owe a tre-
mendous debt to such pioneers as Ranke
and others who developed
the seminar method, the monograph, and
the careful documentation
which marks the modern doctor's
dissertation. These men struggled
hard to establish the independence of
history as a rigorous discipline
in the pursuit of truth, and tried to
make it an exact science. Un-
fortunately, in many cases, they and
their successors achieved eru-
dition at the expense of readability.
In the effort to divorce history
from theology, chauvinism, and other
preconceived hypotheses, many
historians have been afraid to state
any conclusions which might
suggest philosophizing about history.
They have resisted the temp-
tation to describe the human enterprise
in terms of the great drama
which it is, and in many cases they
have eyed with suspicion and
distrust any historical treatise which
also had a literary appeal.
Somehow, good writing and good history
seemed incompatible.
A few truly great writers may be born,
but far more can achieve
greatness by conscientious, persistent
practice in the techniques of
good writing. There is nothing
incompatible between sound scholar-
ship and a good literary style, and if
history is to become again a
vehicle for mass communication and
education, it must be treated
as a creative art which offers its
readers interpretations and meaning
as well as a chronicle of facts. It
must strive for synthesis, and be
more than a series of doctoral
dissertations strung together by a
library catalog. History is not a
mystic rite for the initiated few. It
should be the portal of understanding
held open by scholars for
the enlightenment and benefit of all.
The Challenge of the Times to the
Historian 3
History represents a unique discipline,
for the actual event with
which the historian deals disappears
the moment it occurs. It cannot
be revived or repeated or tested, as we
test an experiment in the
chemical laboratory. The event itself
was real enough, and un-
changing, but what is left to us is
only the incomplete and often im-
perfect social memory, as revealed in
documents, manuscripts, monu-
ments of stone, newspapers,
reminiscences, and other sources, of
what happened years ago. Furthermore,
each fact is related to some
other fact and leads back endlessly
through the seamless web of
history to still other facts. The
historian is forced to select and
interpret what he finds, and frequently
must exercise a trained imagi-
nation to reconstruct a scene long
past. With the element of interpre-
tation, something highly subjective
enters into the historical process.
We may assume that the historian,
trained as a specialist to sift the
evidence critically, will see what
untrained observers might overlook,
yet in the last analysis, he must state
his findings in terms of what
they mean to him, and he must try to
explain his conclusions in
clear and readable terms to readers
who, in turn, will have their
own subjective approach to what they
read. The only alternative
would be a barren chronicle.2
Thus, although the techniques of text
criticism become more and
more refined, the bibliographies and
footnotes more complete, and
the manuals of history thicker than
laboratory manuals, history falls
just short of being a science, and
belongs with the humanities and
the creative arts. Despite its
scholarly methods, it is a form of
creative literature, by which the
writer, in a way personal to him,
tries to recreate the past, and subject
it to certain norms of judgment
and value. As Trevelyan expressed it,
the historian tries his best
to cope with reality and fact, but the
image of truth must always
be reflected through the prism of his
own finite mind. To an age
as disturbed as ours, when many people
worship the God of Science,
and others must have an Absolute to
which they can anchor their
shaky lives, history appears to be too
relative a matter to satisfy
the demand for certainty and security.
2 See
Carl Becker, "Everyman His Own Historian," American Historical
Review,
XXXVII (1931-32), 221-236.
4 Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
This relativity of history is further
evidenced by the inability of
the top craftsmen in the profession to
agree either on a philosophy
or a science of history. If this is so,
why should the general public
accept a leadership in a field of
learning where the doctors them-
selves disagree? There is no better
illustration of the existing state
of affairs on this point than a recent
analysis of the presidential
addresses of the American Historical
Association over a period of
sixty years. In almost every case, the
speakers felt called upon to
develop and explain their individual
credos before their fellow
historians who had elected them to this
high honor.3
A review of these presidential
addresses reveals an amazing
variety of opinions about the nature,
content, and function of
history. One or two presidents
explained the historical process in
terms of a divine plan, unfolding under
the direction of an omnip-
otent and omniscient God, an
explanation which is both logical
and satisfying provided one can accept
all the major premises. The
lovable Cheyney suggested certain
"laws of history," only to have
several of them quickly and rudely
challenged by subsequent events.
Furthermore, if historical laws
comparable to natural laws could be
discovered, what becomes of free will,
the role of the individual
in history, and that baffling array of
events which seem to turn on
pure chance? Becker and Beard stressed
present-mindedness in
history and argued that history must
constantly be rewritten in terms
of present-day interest and values,
thereby provoking McIlwain to
the rejoinder that we must study the past
to understand it, not
merely to pick out from it what is for
the moment "usable," lest,
through the "untimely intrusion of
modern ideas" the lessons from
history cease to be the lessons of history.
Turner thought it was the
business of history to "hold the
lamp for conservative reform."
McMaster was fearful that any
interpretation would distort the
past, and agreed with Lea that
moralizing should be left to the
reader. On the other hand, Rhodes
frankly asserted his right to
pronounce judgment on the momentous
events which marked the
culmination of the sectional struggle,
and Henry Adams sought
3 See Herman Ausubel, Historians and
Their Craft: A Study of the Presidential
Addresses of the American Historical
Association, 1884-1945 (New York,
1950).
The Challenge of the Times to the
Historian 5
solace from the blight of modern
industrialism and a civilization
which seemed to be running down, in a
return to the Virgin as
the symbol of limitless compassion.
Thus one finds little agreement among
the master craftsmen,
and in this respect, there is little
difference between American
historians and their fellows in other
lands. Historians have been
unable to give men a scientific law by
which the future can be
predicted. With few exceptions, they
have discarded the Absolutes
by which infallible judgments might be
pronounced whether ac-
cording to Marxian economic determinism
or any other closed,
theological or philosophical system.
The best they can say is that
ideas and fighting faiths will continue
to be tested "in the compe-
tition of the market," and that
skepticism in history is a healthy
attitude as long as it stops short of
complete cynicism. Readers need
not be unduly alarmed on this point,
for the vast majority of his-
torians seem to proceed with their
tasks with a certain amount of
faith in rational processes and the
potentialities of the human
species. They do not believe they have
the ultimate answers, but
they insist on freedom to continue
their search, and on their right
to present their conclusions concerning
the meaning and value of
the human enterprise.
It requires no elaborate philosophizing
to discover a certain unity
and continuity in history. We may
therefore conclude, as a matter
of common sense, that history should be
useful to thinking men
and women, because the past is the
matrix of the present and the
future. By reading its lessons, we
should be able to avoid short-cuts
and panaceas which lead only to a stone
wall or into a blind alley.
In a motor-minded age, sober, calm
reflection may prove as im-
portant as immediate action, and as
Worthington C. Ford once
pointed out, history is "caution
teaching by example." History can
throw some light on the unfathomed
nature of man, and as
Santayana said, what men remember they
are not condemned to
repeat. History can push open a little
wider the gateway to under-
standing such basic problems as how man
developed, what he has
been able to create by labor and
sacrifice, and thus help somewhat
to sustain him in the presence of pain,
injustice, and strife. Above
6 Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
all, it can help men form ethical,
value judgments and give them
a moral design for living.
It is hard, in a time like ours, to be
satisfied with such a limited
service from the historical profession.
The Western World, in this
difficult period of confusion and
disillusionment, is witnessing an
anti-rationalist, anti-liberal reaction
against the achievements of
the Age of the Enlightenment. Events of
the twentieth century have
destroyed man's earlier, blind faith in
the God of Progress, and a
deep pessimism and a feeling of
resignation has replaced the buoyant
optimism of the Victorian Age. That is
one reason why so many
theologians are busy again trying to
convince man of his utter sin-
fulness and depravity, and the futility
of trying to cope with the
problem of individual and social
salvation with his own resources.
The same spirit of despair and defeat
helps explain Toynbee's great
popularity with the present generation.
His last books reflect a
retreat from reason into the comforts
to be derived from theology.
In his later work, he reveals himself
as a "metahistorian" who is
seeking an escape from his earlier
pessimistic conclusions about
the history of past civilizations in
the nebulous realm of theological
speculation.4
The period since 1914, when the Western
World plunged into
war and a chaotic peace, may be
characterized in several ways, some
of which seem mutually exclusive and
contradictory, for all human
history is extremely complex. But
certainly one characteristic of
the present age is the worship of the
machine, the gadget, and a
mechanical, business civilization, and
a corresponding decline of
interest in the humanities. Many attempts
have been made to explain
man himself in terms of a mechanical
automaton, and emotions
and suppressed desires and all the
mysteries of the subconscious
mind have been accepted as the
explanation for much of human
conduct, and sometimes provide a
convenient escape mechanism
from individual and social
responsibilities. The tremendous impact
of the economic revolution has
magnified the struggle for power
at home and abroad, and made affluence
a symbol of civilization.
Businessmen and scientists are wont to
speak ex cathedra on any
4 See
Frank H. Underhill, "Arnold Toynbee, Metahistorian," Canadian
Historical
Review, XXXII (1951), 201-219.
The Challenge of the Times to the
Historian 7
and all subjects to eager listeners who
believe they have all the
answers, while the 150,000 college
teachers, who presumably are
the carriers and transmitters of the
culture of our 150,000,000
people, occupy a status in modern
society which clearly reflects the
low esteem in which this age holds
liberal education and culture.
Historians can do no more than their
small part in changing this
false sense of values, but if they do
not make their contribution, the
fault will be "not in our stars,
but in ourselves, that we are
underlings."
In the first place, teachers of history
must do a much better
job of teaching. There is still too
much lazy, uninspired, rote teach-
ing from a single textbook, and too few
teachers are sufficiently
devoted to their profession to regard
it as a consecration to a sacred
quest for truth. Many have little
interest in pioneering and research
and do not understand that scholarship
and good teaching go hand
in hand. Good teaching should stimulate
research, which need not
in all cases lead to publication, but
should consist at least in constant
reading and searching for additional
knowledge; and research, how-
ever limited or minute, will give a
sharper edge to teaching and
keep the teacher mentally fresh and
alive. Too many teachers lack
the plain courage to pioneer; they cave
in too easily before pressure
groups who want to control them in
their particular interest, and
retreat too quickly into the ivory tower
of escape and even apologize
for having chosen teaching for their
life's work instead of selling
bonds or advertising. The good teacher
should be proud of his
calling and work hard to vindicate his
right to belong to an im-
portant and honorable profession. He
should also assert his rights
as a citizen to contribute to the
discussion of public questions. It
may well be that teachers and scholars
have as much to contribute
here as business executives,
scientists, and guidance counselors, and
usually they have no personal axe to
grind.
The most important responsibility of
the historian is to try to give
Everyman the historical perspective needed to grapple
intelligently
with present-day problems. Though the
historian cannot give final
answers, he can teach men and women
much about the proper, ex-
perimental approach.
If we had such historical perspective
today, many more people
8
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
than do so now would realize that
democracy is a changing, flexible
concept and that it is a radical
doctrine based on faith in a liberated
mankind. The democratic theory rejects
a static society, no matter
by what particular group it may be
established or controlled. It be-
lieves that no social order can be
frozen into one unchanging mold.
It treasures the precious heritage of
the past, but does not fear
the future so long as changes come
about as a result of free debate
and free choice. It believes in free
trade in ideas, and in fair play
and good sportsmanship, which include
the right of dissenting
minorities to be heard on anything, so
long as they proceed within
the framework of the law and the
Constitution.
The American concept of political
democracy today is very dif-
ferent from that of the founding
fathers. It has changed in each
generation and may change again in the
future. Women have re-
ceived equal rights; property tests
have been abolished, and the
Negro, at long last, is coming into his
legal rights. The basis of
popular government in the United States
is in sharp contrast with
1776, when many believed universal
suffrage was "too mighty an
excitement for the moral condition of
man to endure," and free,
public education was denounced as a
heresy which confiscated part
of one man's property for the education
of another man's child.
In the same way, the American concept
of economic democracy
has changed, due largely to the
influence of the industrial revolution,
which has been a far more potent force
than political change. It is
modern industrial society which has
forced Americans to restudy
the whole question of the appropriate
sphere and function of govern-
ment. A hundred and fifty years ago
most Americans would have
agreed with Jefferson that that
government was best which governed
least. Today, people of every
persuasion realize that certain govern-
ment controls are necessary, although
the debate over how much and
what kind will go on as long as we
remain a healthy, growing
democracy. Such terms as
"socialism," "free enterprise," and the
"welfare state" mean
different things to different interests today;
and they are terms whose content, as
the historian can easily show,
has varied from generation to
generation. Not theory, but con-
ditions, determined their meaning at
each particular point in history.
The Challenge of the Times to the
Historian 9
There are many instances when
government in the United States and
in other countries not only restricted
private predatory interests for
the sake of the general welfare but was
actually prevailed upon by
these interests to create and guarantee
the conditions which would
make it possible for free enterprise to
function and prosper.
The same historical perspective is
needed in the present-day debate
over American foreign policy. Once it
was "America for Americans,"
and a splendid isolation from the
plagues of old world diplomacy
and "both your houses." Today
political and economic policies must
be evolved against a background of
world events. World politics
have tremendous significance for the
future of the American way of
life as the cleavages between right and
left have become sharper
at home and abroad. No one deliberately
willed it so or worked it out
according to a particular theory. The
United States emerged from
isolation to world involvement almost
absentmindedly, one step
at a time, and as the result of special
circumstances at special periods
in American history.
These illustrations must suffice to
point up the crying need for an
historical approach to present-day
problems, and they emphasize the
special obligation of teachers and
writers of history to provide their
fellows with perspective, so that light
and not heat may determine
their decisions. If the present
generation, the world over, could view
its problems in the cold, calm light of
history, men would not be as
frightened as they are, or at least,
they would be frightened about
the right and not the wrong things.
They would understand that the
real menace to free peoples everywhere
is not experimentation with
new schemes of economic organization,
but dictatorships and ruthless
imperialism, supported by a police
state and thought control, and the
utter defiance of law and impartial
justice. They would realize that
a military victory never has settled
the basic conflict between truth
and error, good and evil, and that the
way of life to which they are
devoted can only be preserved by
implementing their profession Of
equal opportunity and individual
liberty by concrete demonstration
and application, at home and abroad, so
that other discover
and believe that there is something
superior to what other systems
promise them.
10
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
In the light of historical perspective,
the argument over free en-
terprise and welfare legislation would
become less heated and more
rational; labor would appreciate its
duties and responsibilities to the
whole people, rather than to a
particular class; management would
perform with more understanding and
enthusiasm its new function
to guide production in the interest of
a good and prosperous society,
instead of for the satisfaction of a
small predatory class; and even
doctors might be able to discuss
"state medicine" more rationally
and more effectively than the American
Medical Association is doing
it today.
Finally, historians, of all people,
should manifest a special interest
in civil liberties, another of the
burning issues of the day, for the
history of this nation and the Western
World points to the wisdom
and desirability of gradualness, rather
than cataclysmic changes with
the misery and suffering and violent
dislocation of the whole human
cultural heritage which they entail.
Civil liberties is but a general
term for a method of orderly progress,
through discussion, weighing
of conflicting evidence, free choices,
and peaceful evolution rather
than spasmodic, violent revolution
which destroys both the good
and the bad in the existing social
order. The guarantees of freedom
of speech, press, assembly, and
religion, as specifically provided in
the federal and state constitutions,
have the weight of a long and
wholesome tradition of the Anglo-Saxon
peoples behind them. They
distinguish what we have come to call
the American way of life, and
they must be preserved and defended
against thought control of
any kind, and especially in the case of
teachers, journalists, ministers,
writers, creative artists, and others
who provide the vehicles through
which intelligent discussion of
controversial issues may be carried
on. Far from regarding civil liberties
as the special tool of radicals,
they should be the particular concern
of conservatives, as a safety
valve for a dynamic society, for they
alone assure progress by legal,
orderly means, rather than the appeal
to force. They will endure
only if we realize that good manners,
good taste, tolerant explora-
tion of conflicting viewpoints, and
decent debate are vital to the
proper exercise of our cherished
freedoms.
THE CHALLENGE OF THE TIMES TO THE
HISTORIAN1
by CARL WITTKE
Professor of History and Dean of the
Graduate School,
Western Reserve University
The question is frequently asked
nowadays, Why do historians
have so little influence in public
affairs, and why have men and
women, who have been especially trained
to study and distill con-
clusions from the long experience of
the past, so little status as
counselors and molders of public
opinion in present-day society?
It is easy to exaggerate the influence
of historians of an earlier
day in this regard, and it must be
remembered that on some of the
burning questions of a century ago,
like slavery, the historical guild
had relatively little to say and rather
studiously avoided becoming
involved in the acrimonious sectional
controversy. Nevertheless,
history probably was more widely read
then than now, and certainly
historians of distinction were more
highly honored and respected,
and received more public recognition
from their fellow Americans.
The so-called "middle group of
literary historians" wrote dis-
tinguished history which was widely
read. One need only recall such
names as Motley, Prescott, Bancroft,
Parkman, and Fiske to make
the point. Parkman, despite his
physical affliction, produced a series
of volumes which stand up well before
the rigorous tests of modern
historical scholarship, yet they were
written in a beautiful, vivid
style that made them popular reading.
Motley's history of the
Netherlands was literature as well as
history, and Fiske, with a
mastery of several fields of learning,
had great influence on his
generation. Bancroft was not only
venerated as a distinguished his-
torian, but was rewarded with public
office.
Why have the disciples of Clio fallen
from that high estate? The
present generation goes for advice to
the scientist and the business-
man, or the psychiatrist, but seldom to
the men and women who
1 An extension of some remarks made at a
luncheon meeting of the Ohio Academy
of History, in Columbus, April 7, 1951.
1