Near the beginning of his autobiography, the historian Howard Zinn explains the philosophy he had regarding objectivity in his classes before he retired from Boston University:

I would always begin a course by making it clear to my students that they would be getting my point of view, but that I would try to be fair to other points of view. I encouraged my students to disagree with me.

I didn't pretend to an objectivity that was neither possible nor desirable. "You can't be neutral on a moving train," I would tell them. Some were baffled by this metaphor . . . Others immediately saw what I meant: that events are already moving in certain deadly directions, and to be neutral means to accept that.

While it is certainly possible to disagree with Zinn's political views, it is difficult to fault him for his honesty. Zinn made it clear to his students where he stood on the political spectrum and rather than hide that, he wanted them to be persuaded by the power of his evidence and his arguments.

Howard Zinn's strong feelings against the Vietnam War greatly affected his teaching during the turbulent 1960s. It should come as no surprise that the opposite side of the political spectrum has recently displayed similar passions attacking Vietnam War opponent John Kerry. Because so much of this year's presidential campaign has focused on events from the Vietnam era, it is worth considering the difference between how historians and political actors approach historical disputes.
Of course, the most famous of John Kerry's adversaries in the debate over his war record are the ironically-named Swift Boat Veterans for Truth. While Howard Zinn wanted to make it clear that his teachings were simply his perspective, the very name of the Swift Boat Veterans for Truth is designed to cloak the mantle of objectivity around them in order to forestall any argument. Texans for Truth, the group behind the new Bush-was-AWOL-from-the-National Guard ads, in mocking tribute to the Swift Boat Vets, do the same thing.

In a recent post, the blogger Kevin Drum, a close student of these Vietnam controversies, compared the historical evidence that supports these two sets of charges:

Both are tales from long ago and both are related to Vietnam, but the documentary evidence in the two cases is like night and day. In the Swift Boat case, practically every new piece of documentary evidence indicates that Kerry's accusers are lying. Conversely, in the National Guard case, practically every new piece of documentary evidence provides additional confirmation that the charges against Bush are true.

The conservative response to such an assessment is easy to predict: "Drum is a liberal. Of course he is going to think that!" While this tactic may be acceptable in modern political discourse, it shouldn't pass muster with historians.

Just because someone has a particular bias, that doesn't mean they're wrong. Indeed, it is absolutely impossible for anyone to escape their own skin -- to somehow get beyond their own social, economic, cultural and political background and see any historical event with perfect objectivity. To put it another way, everybody is a partisan of something, so making this argument gets you nowhere.

That's why the press's manner of handling this scandal has been so infuriating. Too many media outlets have been treating this story as a battle between equally valid arguments without passing judgement on either side. Or to borrow a phrase from a certain cable news channel, their response has been: "We report. You decide." Because of this approach, a moving train of unfounded allegation has run John Kerry down, leaving his reputation as a Vietnam War hero bleeding by the side of the tracks.

Unlike the press, historians have to make judgments about the history they study, deciding which historical arguments are better than others on the basis of the evidence that supports a particular position and that argument's explanatory power. When this process is done on a discipline-wide basis, a consensus develops. If new evidence or a new argument emerges later on, the consensus shifts.

Since most historical arguments are not as politically charged as whether John Kerry really earned his Vietnam medals, this process usually occurs in a civil manner with little public attention. But ever since the National History Standards controversy of the early-1990s, conservatives have increasingly done their best to politicize countless aspects of historical study.

This is not necessarily a bad thing. The Bellesiles scandal, for example, has been a huge boon for the study of guns in American history as well as a cautionary tale for all historians. On the other hand, too many critics of academia have adopted the equation of liberal = biased = wrong. For example, "In recent years," the New York Times explained when covering controversies over schoolbooks in Texas back in 2002, "conservative groups have become adept at blocking books by arguing that political bias and the omission of certain facts constitute 'factual inaccuracy.'" Like naming your 527 organization after the truth, this style of argument is an attempt to shut down debate and the free exchange of ideas.

Howard Zinn, while equally partisan in favor of his own side, approached history education in a different way, "I never believed that I was imposing my views on blank slates, on innocent minds. My students had had a long period of political indoctrination before they arrived in my class -- in the family, in high school, in the mass media. Into a marketplace so long dominated by orthodoxy I wanted only to wheel my little pushcart, offering my wares along with the others, leaving students to make their own choices." If only today's conservatives were so humble, historical and political discourse in America today would be much more productive.

Related Links

• Jonathan Dresner: AWOL Epistemology, Swift Boat Historiography