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LETTER from LONDON |
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Brits and Yanks Failing History |
 Some Brits actually believe Arnold Schwarzenegger's Conan the Barbarian (above) was a real figure in British history. |
Was Hitler real or fiction?
Some British are confused
By MICHAEL JOHNSON
of TheColumnists.com
An astute friend of mine postulated a few years ago that 25 percent of American high school students taking a multiple-choice history test would likely guess Donald Duck as the name of the U.S. Secretary of State.
My friend, now a sought-after speech writer, was half-joking, but his remark held more than a grain of truth. Periodically we see amazing lists of things people don’t know, and once again we are made ashamed of the U.S. school system and the sluggish adult population.
The English, we like to think, are different. They speak like John Gielgud and wear pinstripes and stand up straight and respect authority and quote Shakespeare. It’s a pleasant illusion, based on a few movies featuring well-spoken English thespians.
The truth is somewhat darker, as I have discovered, again to my disappointment (see also “England’s New Age of Scum”, March 15, 2004). A new British survey commissioned by Blenheim Palace reveals that 10 percent of the 2,000 people questioned thought Adolf Hitler was a fictional character. He never lived. He never ran a world war. He never blitzed London. He never invaded Russia or created the Holocaust.
Some other highlights of the survey:
** One-quarter were unsure whether the Battle of Trafalgar was a real event or a scene from some movie.
** One-quarter thought Admiral Horatio Nelson, a naval hero, commanded the British in their victory over Napoleon on the great flat plain of Waterloo in Belgium.
** Twenty percent believed Harold Wilson was British Prime Minister during World War II. (Confusion between Winston and Wilson?)
** One-quarter thought Robin Hood was a real person, no doubt resembling Kevin Costner.
** Thirty percent of the teens questioned did not know in which century World War I was fought.
** Five percent thought Conan the Barbarian was a real person, no doubt resembling Arnold Schwartzenegger.
** A few even thought Edmund Blackadder was real.
Observers of the human comedy have tried for centuries to explain how so many people can be so ignorant yet manage to feed themselves and make more babies.
The world has been divided between “us and them” since the ancients held slaves. I once worked for a woman who glared at her team, including me, and pronounced that the world was made up of drivers and passengers. She all but said “Vroom-a vroom-a!” to emphasize her point. I think she wanted us to work harder.
Others of a more serious nature have tried to explain how a democratic society could function with so many passengers dragging it down.
An Italian economist, Vilfredo Pareto, helped put some numbers on this problem when he established the Pareto Principle, which has become a favorite ratio in management consulting.
Also known as the 80/20 Rule, Pareto established that 80 percent of the land in Italy was owned by 20 percent of the population. Later, he discovered that the principle was valid in other parts of his life, such as gardening: 80 percent of his peas were produced by 20 percent of the pods. In manufacturing, it seems, 80 percent of defects arise from 20 percent of the process problems, and 80 percent of a company’s revenue is typically generated by 20 percent of the sales force. If he were alive today he might add that 80 percent of the world’s knowledge is held by 20 percent of the people. This may be understated.
Another force sowing confusion among the population is today’s glut of vivid entertainment in which history, mythology, glamour and humor are blurred. The movie industry does it best (“Prisoner of Zenda,” “Gladiator,” “Pearl Harbor,” “Braveheart,” “History of the World Part I”). Serious writers also produce “faction” novels and television news adds background music to scenes of war and revolt.
To the careless observer--and most observers are careless--it is unsure where the line falls between reality and fiction.
Ambitious professors, show business people and other dilettantes try gamely to do something about this by tackling history on television. Terry Jones is currently bridging the gap with a well-researched but jokey BBC series romping through medieval England. With its wisecracks and boing-boing-splat sound effects, however, the series satisfies neither the serious student nor the couch potato.
The obvious explanation, though, is the lack of appeal of written history because of the pedestrian way it is presented. Historical writing is the preserve of academics whose language is stuck in a thicket of subordinate clauses.
The historians have much to answer for. Journalists who yearn for respectability often wonder why they didn’t become historians instead, confident they could do it much better. What a pity the two professions have remained so separate.
We see the potential of the journalist-historian when a broadcaster such as William Shirer takes on Germany (“The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich”). We get crisp writing, careful selections from the archives and strong opinions. I owe him a great deal. I decided to become a journalist after reading his riveting account of pre-war Germany, “Berlin Diary.”
I always take note when I stumble across sharply written history, and I wonder why I was forced to plow the turgid furrows of the academics when in college.
To pay tribute to some stellar exceptions, I will point out just three examples of historians who can also write:
Robert Service, describing the breakup of the Soviet Union in “Russia: Experiment with a People”: “The revelers in the rest of the country were in a divided mood. A large amount of vodka and brandy is consumed on such occasions in Russia. But most Russians were more worried than tipsy.”
Theodore Zeldin in “France 1848-1945: Intellect and Pride,” writing on differing views of women: “He claimed that the American principle was that the woman is sovereign, while the French held that every woman was prey. His conservative conclusion was that women need to be protected by barriers because they were creatures of instinct not of reason.”
Alan Bullock in “Hitler: a Study in Tyranny”: “The falling lock of hair and the smudge of his mustache added nothing to a coarse and curiously undistinguished face, in which the eyes alone attracted attention. In appearance at least, Hitler could claim to be a man of the people, a plebian through and through, with none of the physical characteristics of the racial superiority he was always invoking.”
It is impossible to imagine that those 20 percent of British survey respondents who were confused over Hitler’s identity would not understand that we are talking here of quite a real person.
©2004 by Michael Johnson.
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