Teach History, Not Historiography: Why Smart People Aren’t Smart

The first duty of a historian is to seek the truth, however bitter it may be.”

Herodotus said that in Book 1, Chapter 1 of Histories.

Or did he?

What he really said, at least according to A.D. Godley’s 1920 translation, (via the Perseus Digital Library) was:

These are the researches of Herodotus of Halicarnassus, which he publishes, in the hope of thereby preserving from decay the remembrance of what men have done, and of preventing the great and wonderful actions of the Greeks and the Barbarians from losing their due meed of glory; and withal to put on record what were their grounds of feud.”

I lied. Herodotus didn’t say that, either. What he really, really, said was:

Ἡροδότου Ἁλικαρνησσέος ἱστορίης ἀπόδεξις ἥδε, ὡς μήτε τὰ γενόμενα ἐξ ἀνθρώπων τῷ χρόνῳ ἐξίτηλα γένηται, μήτε ἔργα μεγάλα τε καὶ θωμαστά, τὰ μὲν Ἕλλησι, τὰ δὲ βαρβάροισι ἀποδεχθέντα, ἀκλεᾶ γένηται, τά τε ἄλλα καὶ δι’ ἣν αἰτίην ἐπολέμησαν ἀλλήλοισι.”

Of course, you’re probably thinking, “That’s all Greek to me” and you’d be right. That’s how A.D. Godley justified his existence (at least in 1920). He translated Greek to English so we heathens can understand those wise old Mediterraneans.

This illustrates today’s theme: Truth may be the goal, but whose truth is it? Or, as wise people today often say, “Don’t pay attention to what’s said, pay attention to who’s saying it.”

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

Have you ever had an argument over history with someone? Sure, you’re only spouting facts, but that other guy? He’s spinning faster than a gyroscope inside a guided missile. What’s that other guy saying? “I’m only spouting facts! You’re the one spinning!” And who was wrong? And who was right? It didn’t matter in the thick of the fight.

Well, this debate is as old as Croesus, but maybe not as rich. How do we know about Croesus? From Herodotus, a.k.a. “the Father of History.” This shouldn’t be confused with Thucydides, a.k.a. “the Father of Modern History.”  The philosophical feud between these two has been chronicled earlier in these pages, (see “The Role of the Historian,” Mendon-Honeoye Falls-Lima Sentinel, December 7, 2023).

Here’s what that previous column didn’t tell you: the intellectual battle between these two Greeks may reveal what you know about history, or, more accurately, what you think you know about history.

Both tried their best to capture, record, and memorialize historical facts—that’s the definition of a historian. Both, however, went beyond the facts and sought to interpret the history they saw—that’s the definition of a historiographer.

And therein lies the difference between knowing history and only thinking you know history.

History is the tell. Historiography is the sell. One presents the definitive who, what, where, and when (history). The other dives into the rabbit hole of the subjective why (historiography).

Here’s an example. Representatives of the thirteen British colonies claimed independence by signing the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776. That’s a historical fact. It’s hard to manipulate facts. They’re good, bad, and ugly (and even bitter). But bare facts are boring. That’s why students notoriously hate history class.

To combat this, some historians (and some textbooks) prefer to present history within the framework of a narrative. Using our Independence Day example, the surrounding narrative serves these facts on the platter of the birth of liberty, not only for a nation, but for all of mankind. That’s narrative history.

Narrative history possesses the drama that keeps people interested. This makes history easier to remember. But that same drama implies a certain dramatic license. This means it’s tempting to emphasize certain facts that fit the narrative and understate or even ignore facts that don’t fit the narrative.

In this way, narrative history forms the bridge from raw history to interpretive historiography. Traditional historiography relies on a consensus around the narrative. In our Fourth of July example, the consensus interprets the events following the signing of the Declaration of Independence as the start of our heroic Founding Fathers’ fight for freedom. Sounds cool, right? Flag waving, heart pounding, patriotism. Who could complain about that?

Which brings us to the dark side of historiography. Critical (or revisionist) historiography deliberately challenges the prevailing narrative. Why? Because the problem with traditional (or consensus) historiography is that it is often used to reinforce a possibly misleading status quo. Hooray for critical historiography!

Or not.

Because historiography in general (and critical historiography in particular) relies on modern viewpoints in its analysis, it tends to see things through and overweigh the importance of current times. (Behavioral psychologists refer to this as a cognitive bias called the “recency illusion.”) This inherent bias risks losing or downplaying the original intent of the historical players. Worse, historiography can be used for propaganda purposes. Enemies can manipulate history by using skepticism to draw rifts between an otherwise unified culture.

You might think of George Washington, Ben Franklin, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson et al. as brave idealists who risked life, liberty, and their pursuit of happiness for the greater good of all. Critical historiographers can twist this from courageous rebels fighting for human rights to rich white guys dodging taxes.

See how this game is played?

Now, here’s the problem. Academic historians tend to get deep into the weeds. Do you think the facts of history put you to sleep, go for nothing more than winning Trivial Pursuit? Imagine dealing with these facts on a non-stop 24/7 basis. You’d be itching for something—anything—that would allow you to escape these doldrums.

Enter historiography. It’s history with a twist. It’s history as a modern role-playing game. You don’t have to accept the whole Kit-and-Kaboodle, just enough facts to get you going. Then, you’re off to the races. History isn’t what the textbook tells you. It’s what you decide it is. Bored with all the movers and shakers making genuine history? Create an “underrepresented” persona and sell their point of view as “history.”

Yeah. They were there. The same way you are watching a Bills game on TV. Do you think that justifies giving you a place in the Bills’ Media Guide? But a better question is this: Would you rather see interviews of the players and coaches or would you rather the sideline reporters showcase the fans?

Of course, if you’re a locker room reporter and all day you see nothing but players and coaches, you might get bored with that scene. So it makes sense you and your fellow reporters might want to think about the fans’ perspective. It’s a new angle. It’s a story about people who have never been highlighted before.

Sound interesting? To you maybe, but not to the average fan. They don’t want to hear about other fans. They want to hear the stories about their heroes.

Historiographers make the same mistake as these sports reporters. They don’t want to repeat the same old stories. They are looking for fresh stories. Changing the perspective on historical facts can be intellectually stimulating, but is it history? Historiographers might find it interesting, so they assume everybody will think it’s interesting.

But what about those less immersed in history? It’s elite assumptions like this that make people question the value of academics.

Sometimes smart people are just too smart. They miss the obvious.

If only they remembered what Thucydides wrote in Book 1, Chapter 22 of his History of the Peloponnesian War:

Καὶ ἐς μὲν τὰ ἔργα τῶν πραχθέντων ἐν τῷ πολέμῳ οὐκ ἐκ τοῦ παρατυχόντος πυνθανόμενος ἠξίωσα γράφειν, οὐδ’ ὡς ἐμοὶ ἐδόκει, ἀλλ’ οἷς τε αὐτὸς παρῆν καὶ παρὰ τῶν ἄλλων ὅσον δυνατὸν ἀκριβείᾳ περὶ ἑκάστου ἐπεξελθών. Ἐπιπόνως δὲ ηὑρίσκετο, διότι οἱ παρόντες τοῖς ἔργοις ἑκάστοις οὐ ταὐτὰ περὶ τῶν αὐτῶν ἔλεγον, ἀλλ’ ὡς ἑκατέρων τις εὐνοίας ἢ μνήμης ἔχοι.”

OK, so maybe not all historiographers know Greek, so let’s rely on Richard Crawley’s 1874 translation (only to be revised by Donald Lateiner in 1989):

And with regard to my factual reporting of the events of the war I have made it a principle not to write down the first story that came to me, nor even to be guided by my own general impressions; either I was present myself at the events which I have described or else I heard of them from eye-witnesses whose reports I have checked with as much thoroughness as possible. Not that even so the truth was easy to discover: different eye-witnesses give different accounts of the same events, speaking out of partiality for one side or the other or else from imperfect memories.”

Or, if you prefer a snappy, more concise, translation seen through a modern lens:

The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.”