Talking to a high school class on History

I was asked recently to speak to a class of high school seniors by a friend. My friend is a history teacher and he wanted to inspire his students to approach his class with great gusto and enthusiasm, so I agreed. I sat next to my friend before a sea of young people whose smugness and irreverent attitude to everything betrayed the blind foolish optimism of youth, firm in the belief that they are absolutely immortal and the ‘old people’ just don’t get it.

I rose to a barrage of applause, sincere in its intensity, betrayed only by the smirks and sniggers from the front row. The audience had clearly decided that “this old man” had nothing to teach them and no new knowledge to impart. My friend cautioned: “Don’t let them see the fear in your eyes!” But I had no need for subterfuge, I was not afraid, in fact, the only emotion I felt towards them was pity. I began:

“Tell me, why do we learn history?” I paused as if waiting for an answer, an answer I knew would not be forthcoming. “Why, in this day and age of instant news and second by second tweets do we need to know what happened 300 years ago on a battle field in some continental European backwater? Why is it important to memorize random facts and dates and regurgitate them on exam day? I have news for you, history is not what it appears.”

“For some who dedicate their lives to its study,” my friend looked at me with a worried look, “history is the faithful academic retelling of past events in time, a way for us to learn the inner workings of major State actors, great empires and revolutionary movements of the past… I have a very different view of history,” my friend looked positively mortified, his eyes shooting daggers at me, “History, is really ‘His’ story or ‘Their’ story, anyone’s really, whoever was at the time of first publication in power and had the wealth to commission creative lying on their behalf.” My friend’s jaw by now had reached the floor.

“They, the people with wealth and power, for whom many of you will be working in the next ten years, want you to learn and memorize and recite when asked the proud history of their ancestors. It’s your ticket to getting into a good university, getting a good degree and with it finding an employer begrudgingly willing to employ you and teach you everything you need to know to do your boring, repetitive job day in and day out until you retire, are fired or die.”

The whole class sniggered in unison, obviously many had fathers and mothers who followed this well-worn path. None of these fresh-faced optimists were going down that path! Or so they firmly believed. “Learn history, memorize it faithfully, discuss it with gusto and verve, get good grades, but also ask the awkward questions. If you read something and your instincts tell you it’s a load of rubbish, say so and ask your teacher to explain how such and such could ever have been possible.” Silence filled the room.

“We live our lives anticipating history, that is what the mindless learning of it from books does to you. We expect the next global war because we had two previous ones numbered ‘one’ and ‘two’, we expect the next war to be ‘three’ and for it to start when one of the belligerents gets pushed too far and somehow escalation begets escalation until the great warriors and diplomats of both sides find themselves in war looking around at each other asking one another ‘I say old man, how did we get into this mess?!’” The class roared with laughter and my friend by now was covering his face in chagrin, disappointed in me obviously. “No!... that is not how wars start, number one did not start when an archduke was assassinated in Sarajevo… number two did not start because Hitler had to be stopped! Hitler and what he represented was quietly being given the thumbs up by the white upper-class establishment from London to New York!” Silence from the class.”

“No… what most people don’t tell you about war is that it’s a commercial enterprise, a risky one but a commercial enterprise all the same. The leaders and politicians and diplomats and warriors they will all write memoires that decry war and their reluctance to fight and that they courageously decided to fight a war in order to stop a madman, to topple a dictator, to change a brutal regime… History is basically a collection of such fairytales all strung together by those in power to create an acceptable narrative, a way for their class to justify to you, the working classes, why you or your children will at one point be asked to go to war and maybe die or come home crippled or otherwise traumatized.”

“History is State-approved propaganda, a balancing of the books of the past, a neatly drafted account of what happened and why it all happened. There is a reason why we in Lebanon cannot agree on an official history text… The powerful are not in agreement on its contents, some don’t even think the whole country needs a unified history text or even a single version of history… I agree!” My friend looked at me, his eyes filling up with tears and a look of sheer horror at my utterances. “Don’t worry students, I’m not an anarchist or someone who wishes to topple civilization, I am simply proud of our country which has refused thus far to immortalize recent history/lies by carving one version of them in stone and forcing it down your throats. It proves to me that the powerful here are weaker than we imagine, if they can’t agree on something like this, it means that we the people have a choice, we can pick and choose who to believe and what to believe and we can above all exercise judgement and ask brave questions…”

“History is an important thing, many people believe it, base their future actions on lessons they say they drew from it, so the authoring of a unified history should be academically rigorous and democratic. Just as in journalism we ask many sources their opinions and views, so a history should be seen from various angels and not just be a two-dimensional flowery retelling of the past. Doubt is always our best weapon, if it smells fishy chances are there is a rotting fish at its center! Be informed, take you information from as many different sources as you can, use your judgement to decide where the truth lies. If you are asked to do a special report on Palestinian refugees in Lebanon for your final exam, do what I did in 2002 when I was sent to cover a ridiculous Arab Summit by my paper. I got seriously bored waiting around for Press briefings and the occasional foreign minister and went instead to the nearest refugee camp to ask its people their opinions of the whole ‘Arab Peace Plan’ and ended up with a more interesting, certainly more colorful story. I guess I am biased. I have been a journalist for most of my life and I believe this profession when done right can have life altering results for us all. So, I urge you all, even if you go in different professional directions, be citizen journalists, always ask questions, demand answers from the powerful, really listen to other people tell their story, have empathy… Never forget that as a species we all share a powerful nose, a powerful bullshit-o-meter, use it! I wish you all well in your studies and future.” What followed was a thunderous roaring applause and a rhythmic drumming as the students rose to their feet clapping their hands and stamping their feet. My friend beamed from ear to ear, stood up and shook my hand… Needless to say, I never spoke to a class ever again…!