Gordon L. Weil
In explaining this familiar American sentence, a British
authority wrote that it means, “it's
all over; there's no more to be said.”
That’s what we
used to think about history. You found
out what happened and wrote a big book about it.
While that
belief was never true, it is now strongly rejected. These days people take a new look at history
in an effort to realign the past with present opinions.
It can result
in misjudging historical leaders. New
research and experience may help us understand what they did and why. But we might also measure them using standards
likely to have been unknown to them. Or we
may resist any new historic understanding and continue to glorify the past.
The most
obvious case of taking a new look may be the elimination of the Confederate
flag on state banners and the removal of
statues of rebel leaders. They have been memorials to an armed attempt to
preserve slavery and destroy the Union. Venerating
them amounts to keeping the rebellion going.
While
eliminating the symbols of an unjust and inhumane cause is reasonable and
necessary, it leads to confrontation between those defending the symbols, supposedly because they are part of
history and those opposing them in light of a reinforced awareness of their
lingering effect. As a result, they become elements of today’s political clash.
At the time
that slavery was acknowledged in the Constitution, most drafters knew it was wrong. But they regarded it as necessary to ensure
the participation of southern states, which believed it essential to their
economies. It lasted until the Civil War and, in practice, a century more.
Even at the outset,
one general saw it differently and upon his death, his slaves were freed.
Six decades later, another general led his state’s soldiers in rebellion
against his own country to preserve slavery.
Both were Virginians and both are respected. Washington and Lee
University recognizes them. Only one deserves a statue.
Taking a new
look at Robert E. Lee to deflate his high reputation may be seen as “cancel culture” by those who believe he should be honored for being
committed to a worthy cause and a classy loser.
Giving new
consideration to the historic role of leaders makes sense, provided today’s
analysis takes into account human understanding and sensitivity as it existed
at the time. To reject such analysis, which
some dismiss as “cancel culture,” is dangerously simplistic.
The term “cancel
culture” is not just about fighting to preserve history. It is a rallying call
for those people who support discredited movements or events and amounts to
barely disguised support for lost causes.
Its advocates misleadingly dismiss their critics as merely being “politically correct.”
On the other
side, those who simply condemn historic figures based on their own current views also misuse
history. They resort to shortcuts that are meant to appeal to their audience.
The heated
debate is selective, based more on today’s politics than on a broad, new look
at accepted history. The cases pulled out for new consideration or subjected to
claims of “cancel culture,” are more likely to legitimize the current political
needs of their partisans rather than being part of an academic effort to
reappraise past scholarship.
Today, some
people may be shunned as objects of “cancel culture” because of their past statements
or writings. If they persisted, shouldn’t they be rejected? If they repented, do they deserve still to be
rejected? (Still revered, Lee never
repented.)
Recently, the
head of Planned Parenthood wrote one of the most balanced views of a troublesome history during these
times of “cancel culture.”
Margaret Sanger
was a nurse who opened the first clinic dedicated to birth control in an effort
to promote it as a way to improve women’s lives. She founded Planned Parenthood and gained a
widely, but not totally, favorable reputation.
Beyond women’s
health concerns, she saw birth control as a way of limiting the growth of the
Black population and associated with white supremacist groups. She also supported a Supreme Court decision
allowing the involuntary sterilization of “unfit” people and testing a birth
control pill on unsuspecting Puerto Ricans.
“Sanger remains an influential part of
our history and will not be erased, but as we tell the
history of Planned Parenthood’s founding, we must fully take responsibility for the harm that Sanger
caused,” Alexis McGill Johnson, the
organization’s president, wrote.
If the furor over “cancel culture” has brought more attention to
understanding our history, including Sanger’s conflicted role, it may be useful. Debating the past educates us, and that’s
needed, because schools pay too little attention to American history and
civics.
Frequently, leaders hail the shared “values” that supposedly unite all Americans,
but then skip the sometimes clashing specifics of how they played out in
history.
That failure leaves people ignorant of history and vulnerable to
political exploitation. It allows “cancel
culture” to flourish and history to be used as a weapon.