Monthly Archives: February 2020

Why Study? Part 1: History

If asked what I study, this would be my answer: “I am a historian.  My field is the Middle Ages.  My specialty is apocalypticism.”  But why do I study these things, and why should you?

This is the first of a series entitled, “Why Study ______?”  There are certainly many voices that can answer this question for any particular entry, and even I have changed my reasoning over the years.  But I hope to at least provide some of my favorite reasons for pursuing various studies in the hope that they will help inspire others to see them as enjoyable and valuable topics.  To start off, I would like to discuss why I study history.

So, why study history?  I will begin with my answer – two in fact – and then explain what I mean, albeit in a round-about manner.  First, history should be studied because it isn’t what you think it is, that is, it has very little to do with dates, names, and places.  Second, and for me the most important, because history is the best way to study everything besides history.  What does this mean?  Let’s start with the first part.

In my experience, the study of history is popularly a neglected field.  Certainly, historical topic spark interest among many people.  One might be interested in the Roman Empire, the American Revolution, the Meiji Restoration, the Second World War, the Islamic Golden Age, the Kingdom of the Zulu, the Cahokia civilization, or Caribbean piracy in the age of sail, for example.  I most definitely applaud investigating these or any other historical periods.  But I think for most Americans, interest in a historical topic and the study of history are two different things, the former popularly encouraged, the latter generally avoided.  Individual interest in history tends to be done privately, as if in spite of rather than because of formal education.  

When someone is presented in a classroom with “History,” Americans tends to see it as an exercise in memorization and regurgitation, and as such, something to be suffered through.  Dates, names, and places.  1863, Lincoln, Gettysburg.  Or, perhaps more graphically, Booth in Ford’s Theater with a pistol (like Col. Mustard in the study with the revolver).  Reduced to this level – that is, the level of the board game Clue, where being “good” at history is simply gathering the correct nouns together for the final exam – history certainly seems like it has little to offer beyond the amusing anecdote or piece of trivia.  Yet, in an odd way, this does come near the mark, albeit unintentionally.

The game of Clue is not actually about memorization and regurgitation.  For those unfamiliar with it, a quick summary of the premise.  In Clue, each player is trying to discover the randomly generated perpetrator of a murder, the location of the murder, and the murder weapon used.  No one person starts with that piece of information, but as players move around the game board (a stylized mansion), they can pick up on clues, eliminating suspects and other pieces of information.  When a player thinks they have narrowed down the clues to the correct person, place, and weapon, they announce their suspicion and privately look at the correct answer (stored in the center of the board).  If they are correct, they win.  If they are wrong, they lose the game and other players continue on.  Thus success is based on using the clues one gets logically while also working quickly so that others don’t guess correctly first.  And that is the tension: speed vs. thoroughness, all revolving around logical problem solving.

This is what history is – at least, in part.  Clue is not based on memorization whatsoever (you have a sheet at all times that you can write notes on) but on investigation.  To be sure, the information gathered – the raw facts – is of vital importance.  The game is won and lost depending on if Mrs. White or Prof. Plum used a knife or a rope in the kitchen or the ballroom.  Facts matter.  But the game is not about knowing facts but about gathering and using facts.  In short, in a very simplistic way, it is about critical thinking and problem solving.  Students of history will quickly see how far short my comparison between historical study and Clue falls.  Studying history is indeed about using a wide variety of skills, and in the process of studying history, those skills get further refined.  Knowing that Lincoln gave his Gettysburg address in 1863 may not be terribly important on a day-to-day basis for most people, but understanding the sequence of events that led a man named John Wilkes Booth watch an abolitionist be hung in 1859, before the Civil War began, to plot to assassinate the president less than 6 years later is of great value.  The value is not inherent in the facts themselves – though, again, those help make up the raw materials of the study – but in the way the connecting lines are drawn, just as the fun of Clue is not in the answer but in the investigation.  In this light, the study of history is quite valuable, because it can provide and enhance skills that can be applied not to specific dates, names, and places but to any other endeavor.

The second reason to study history, as I said, is because it allows one to study everything that isn’t history.  Mathematics can be applied to many things, but not everything is math.  Biological forces inform so much of ourselves and our world, but there is little overlap between it and astrophysics, for example.  Every other fields of study has similar constraints save for history.  History is everything for all time.  Everything humans have done or thought about falls into its purview: the history of mathematics, the history of biology, of astrophysics, music, politics, fashion, art, technology, accounting practices, interior design, hygiene, cinema, board games, the internet, the Civil War, and, well, everything else.  Do you want to study the night Lincoln was assassinated?  Well, what interests you?  The life of President Lincoln, or that of Booth?  Southern reactions to the end of the war?  Mid-19th century American theater?  Or perhaps pistol manufacturing?  Medical theory and practice?  Or criminal investigations?  Or journalism after the assassination, or following Booth’s death?  To say that you want to study the history surrounding the events of April 14 and 15, 1865, is hardly helpful, for they can (and have) been examined from countless perspectives, all of some value.

And that is really why I chose to study history.  No, not because I was interested in Lincoln’s assassination (used here only as an example).  When I was still deciding in high school what field to pursue, I was at a loss.  I loved so many subjects that I felt that walking towards one meant abandoning the others.  But then I realized that history was the answer.  In it, I had the opportunity (and the unending excuse) to study everything I ever loved, because everything was fair game.  But at the same time, I knew it would be a challenge, one that I was eager to meet.  Because if the study of history meant I could study anything, it also meant that to be a good historian I would have to remain interested (at least a little) in everything.  When it came time to take the GRE (a test commonly, though now controversially, taken before entering graduate school), I was rather unusual.  Like the SATs, the GRE has two broad categories: math and verbal.  Most students pursuing graduate degrees in history (and history departments looking at the results) ignore the math component and focus all of their attention on the verbal part of the exam.  I did not, and I am pleased to say that my ranked math and verbal scores were both high and nearly identical, according to percentile.

I knew most history departments wouldn’t care that I did well in mathematics, but I did, because to me, history is a universal subject requiring universal skills.  For a historian, every skill, every interest matters because everything connects through our common humanity and experiences.  History is an opportunity to do anything with everything. There are restraints and necessities imposed on what can and can’t be done due to the specifics of the historical discipline (especially regarding sources – not a topic to discuss now), but in the end, I study history because of the freedom it gives me.  One can study the history of economics.  Or one can study the history of the Star Wars movies.  Or one can study how financial considerations affected how the Star Wars was made and how Star Wars changed the way Hollywood understood risk and reward when investing in blockbusters.  And it is all valid for the historian.

That’s why I study history: because it hones my intellectual skills far beyond mere memorization while giving me the absolute freedom (and challenge) to study anything and everything that I find interesting.  And even if I wasn’t pursuing history professionally, it doesn’t diminish the value of any of these things at all.

I hope this has helped you gain some respect for studying history.  By all means, try not to get facts about history wrong, if you can help it, but more importantly, dive into what interests you not for the anecdotes but for the thrill of investigation and analysis.  I don’t think you’ll be disappointed, whatever you wind up studying.

The Dangers of an Unchanging Foe

Like so many other things regarding End-Times speculation, apocalyptic enemies are full of paradoxes.  They are at once particular to the Final Days – such as the Antichrist or al-Dajjal – yet are also composed of perennial foes – heretics, schismatics, hypocrites, violent oppressors, non-believers, demon-influenced, etc.  Some traditions and sub-traditions emphasize some of these more than others, and the identification of serious threats often changes, though some groups (unfortunately often Jewish people) are frequent targets of accusations of satanic involvement.  Yet above and beyond merely attributing nefarious intentions to a single group across centuries, some people excited by the idea of apocalypse take the idea of a perennial threat a bit further.  To them, there are not many threats but, in fact, only one.

The idea behind an unchanging foe pairs with those who believe that those who are good, righteous, and virtuous have been isolated to a single group throughout history as well.  Righteousness, to such people, has not entailed historical change, illumination, and development but has been complete and crystal clear from the beginning.  Morality was fully developed and comprehensible 4,000 years ago, and nothing since has added to it, and nothing must in any way be taken away from it.  This is an extreme view even among the Abrahamic faiths, since Jewish, Christian, and Muslim religious thinkers recognize historical change and in-time revelation.  But if such be the case, that a single, obvious, unchanging morality has always existed, then immorality must be equally timeless and comprehensible.  And if there has always been a group of divinely blessed individuals abiding by the eternal moral code, according to such belief, it only makes sense that all the evil throughout time shares not only the same moral failings endemic to humanity but an organized will hell-bent on opposing divine goodness.

Certainly Satan has frequently been invoked in these speculations as the demonic mastermind behind human evil.  But this is not what I mean.  I mean, and so do those who frequently espouse such ideas, a very human threat.

Since even before the Protestant Reformation, the pope has been called an (or the) Antichrist.  After Martin Luther in the 16th century helped establish the many Protestant churches, the entirety of Catholicism came to be seen as in league with Satan (of course, Catholics would say similar things about Protestants).  But accusations of wickedness and heresy were not new.  By definition, no Christian heresy could trace its origin before Pentecost, though one might be accused of having Jewish or pagan influence.  But in the mid-19th century, a new argument emerged.  What if the Catholic Church were older than Jesus Christ and had its origin not in Judaism but in satanic paganism?  That is what Alexander Hislop, a Scottish minister, argued in his work, “The Two Babylons: Papal Worship Proved to be the Worship of Nimrod and His Wife” (1853).  Hislop wrote that Nimrod, the king in Genesis responsible for building the tower of Babel in mockery of God, founded a pagan religion that survives to the present day.  Its deities, ceremonies, festivals, organization, goals, methods, and (especially, despite the anachronism) anti-Christian beliefs were preserved after the fall of Babel in many pagan cultures.  A core part of its followers, however, were always aware of its origins and held an immortal hatred for “true” godliness.  After Christ came and departed once more, this “Babylonian” religion first tried to destroy Christianity.  When that failed, it instead became Christianity in the form of the pope of Rome and the Catholic Church.  For over a thousand years, the Church was actually an anti-Christian organization.  Any opposition to the hierarchical church before 1517 was not based on historical pressures particular to the time and place they occurred but rather the elect of God, hidden among the ungodly, trying to break free.  Though that finally happened with Martin Luther, the Catholic/Babylonian Church continued to exist.  Why?  Because it is the Babylon spoken of in Revelation 17, that is, the ultimate foe for Christians at the End of Time.  Thus, according to Hislop, a secret war has been waged by Babylon for thousands of years against God.  Though many are ignorant of the true purpose of Babylon, its leaders are not.  Its form has altered, but its essence has been unchanging since the Beginning and will remain so until the End.

Absolutely nothing in Hislop’s theory is historically accurate, so I will not trouble disproving it here.  Nevertheless, Hislop’s ideas (both regarding Catholicism in particular and conspiracies in general) have endured.  An older, equally absurd, yet still persistent and harmful conspiracy involves Jews as secretly in constant, universal contact, plotting various crimes.  In both the distant past and more recently, accused groups have included members of the Masonic Lodge, pagans, witches, communists, Knights Templars, and the always ambiguous Illuminati.  In popular culture, Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code has made the Priory of Zion, the powerful but secretive keepers of the knowledge of Jesus and Mary Magdalene’s child, a similar type of organization.  For the Ubisoft game series Assassin’s Creed, the Knights Templar (historically formed in the 12th century but, in-game, dating back far longer) fill the role of eternally nefarious secret organization.  The Templars are opposed by the equally undying and virtuous secret order of Assassins.  And in Christopher Nolan’s Batman Begins (2005), Ra’s al Ghul reveals to the hero, “The League of Shadows has been a check against human corruption for thousands of years. We sacked Rome, loaded trade ships with plague rats, burned London to the ground. Every time a civilization reaches the pinnacle of its decadence, we return to restore the balance.”  One-world-governments frequently play into such conspiracies, both expressly fictional and those repeated in earnest.  Though Hislop was merely peddling religious bigotry, it is easy to see why he gained fame for it: conspiracy makes entertaining stories by weaving historical events together into a larger pattern of absolute good against absolute evil.

Of course, that is the problem.  When something is obviously a story, it can be fun.  But when a real life group is cast as an eternal enemy, a foe that has remained true to its secretive and evil plans – plans that are antithetical to any sense of morality and goodness – for hundreds if not thousands of years, terrible things happen.  The salacious anti-Semitic hoax known as “The Protocols of the Elders of Zion” (1903) was used to grave effect against Jewish peoples in the 20th century and still finds advocates of its lies to this day.  But perhaps you think that conspiracies like that are quickly spotted these days and easily dismissed?  Sadly, that is not true.

On the political stage, since his declaration of candidacy for president in 2015 to the present, Donald Trump has cultivated the myth of an eternal, unchanging enemy.  In these efforts, he has found many targets: Mexicans, Muslims, the European Union, Democrats, journalists, socialists, the “deep-state,” and a host of others.  Don’t be confused: he does not simply target these groups as enemies but as “eternal” enemies.  Trump frequently gives way to exaggeration (when not outright lies), especially superlatives.  But he also tends to dilate the length of a grievance.  Note how he uses “always” or any reference to “for a long time now.”  He uses such words and phrases frequently when talking about his enemies.  He does not place (even valid) grievances in an historical context but into a vague perpetuity.

The Orwellian line, “We have always been at war with Eastasia,” (or, “We have always been at war with Eurasia”) is apt.  This line is often quoted to mean one is to think a former ally is now an enemy because the state says so.  The “always” is unconsciously thought to mean “you were mistaken if you believed we had been allies last week.”  But “always” is also very vague.  This bit of propaganda from Orwell’s 1984 does not give any details.  Why should it?  Details are harmful to propaganda.  It does not say, “We have been at war with Eastasia since we were attacked on such-and-such a date.”  Eastasia is not a new enemy with historical reasons for enmity with Oceania (us).  It is a perpetual enemy – until it becomes an ally, in which case it has always been one, while Eurasia has always been the enemy.  Saying what caused the war or when would only lead to thinking, which would interfere with obedience.

Trump’s vague language about grievances is in perfect lock-step with ideas regarding an eternal, unchanging foe.  It is no surprise that he also casts these foes (whomever they happen to be) as the worst of all possible enemies, whose very existence threatens the life of this country.  Eternal, unchanging foes are inherently powerful and apocalyptic.  Any violence against them is justified.  Any accommodation with them is treason.  Their defeat must happen, or else all is lost.  When they are defeated, a great evil will pass from this world.  What could be more apocalyptic?

And of how much evil has such thinking been the cause?