The Blackberry Walk

Ashamedly, when I was younger, I used to think the Ottoman Empire and the Byzantine Empire were the same. As a child, I had a book – a book whose spine is beyond worn and barely held together from use – detailing the history of political boundaries of countries from antiquity onwards. And from this book of maps, it certainly appeared as if the Byzantines had become the Ottomans just as the Eastern Roman Empire had become Byzantium. Now you could blame the map for this misunderstanding – or if you were harsh, my childhood naivety – but it’s a misunderstanding I’ve heard from many others when talking about this era of history. Why is this? It’s such a silly misunderstanding once you learn about the histories and forces of these countries, and learn how the last bastion of Rome was destroyed not by their time-old foe, the Persians, but by Turks organised under Islam. The battle at core, the feeling at core, of such a war between the waxing crescent moon of Islam and the falling eagle of Eastern Christendom is lost with a such a learning of history. The teaching of history, whether at school or on YouTube, has lost its moral angle. Unlike proper history books, which attempt to tell stories and take sides, lower, entry level histories do their best to be ‘unbiased’ and ‘merely factual accounts’. The result of this, however, is the production of a cold and distanced history, without any personal connection to the events. This kind of history is of mere facts, not stories. This kind of history merely teaches you to make aloof moral judgements. This kind of history can’t orient. The purpose of history is an important question to ask. To justify any discipline, there must be a concrete purpose pushing it forward towards a destination. Many mock philosophy as a pointless endeavour, without realising that its abstract theories are the flint and tinder for so many other disciplines; whilst the ever fawned over discipline of theoretical physics has with string theory achieved nought. When asked, many say that history’s purpose is to ‘prevent making the same mistakes again’, and then they proceed to tack on a quip about invading Russia; but is this all we can gain from history? By such an admonition, is history only useful to foreign policy makers? Whilst I certainly hope Her Majesty’s Foreign Office read history broadly absorbing its many lessons, that can’t be all history has to offer. To the common man, I’ll posit, history’s purpose is to orient. History teaches us where we’ve come from; who we are; why we are who we are, and so forth. In the same way the story of ‘who I am’ can be told by divulging into a story of my past, my up-bringing, and my life experiences, so too can a nation’s. How better to explain the character of the English than to speak of the battles, wars, and enemies against whom a character has been hewn? In rejecting Cromwell, rejecting Napoleon, rejecting the Kaiser, and rejecting Hitler, the British character can well be understood. History then ought to be taught from the perspective of narrative and orientation. To understand your nation, a friendly nation, or an enemy nation – to understand the meaning of history – you have to stand from somewhere. History can’t be coldly calculated from a kind of view from nowhere watching countries fight as if you were watching a battle royale of stag beetles from above. Much like watching the football, it’s far more engaging and meaningful if you’re rooting for a team; and, much like the football, it’s best to root for your home team: after all, what’s the point in being a glory hunter? But, of course, there’s nothing wrong with rooting for teams where you used to live, or from where your family are from. History is much the same. History should attempt to be an avenue by which patriotism is accessed – accepting both the good and the bad of your nation’s history – rather than an excuse to pretend to be of no nation at all, and view history from a distant “unbiased” view from nowhere. History should not however descend into a good guys versus bad guys interpretation where we are the righteous vanquishing the immoral. The Crusades are a great example of this. By most accounts, the Arab invasion of the Holy Lands was far more chivalrous and sporting than the seeming barbarian hordes who blazed through Europe in the attempt to take them back. Just because they weren’t the good guys doesn’t mean they weren’t our guys; we can complain and critique and say our home team played a bad game of footie, but that doesn’t mean we should support the away side just because they won! The kind of moral flip-flopping of allegiances in learning history to whoever’s winning the great game of being righteous is really a rather turncoat understanding of the past. The reason we have no choice but to take the aloof view from nowhere in popular academics is because of the Second World War. As I’ve discussed previously, Hitler’s shadow looms large over the West to this day. The apparent post-war consensus removed many facets of life from the diet of Western man: mysticism, for it might lead to the fanaticism of the Nazis; Romanticism, for nature and the reactionary evocations of many Romantics inspired the reaction of the Nazis; and rooting for one’s nation, for the screeching nationalism of the Nazi war machine should never be allowed to rear its head again. Whilst each of these has been seen since 1945, they each come with a catch. The mysticism of the hippies, for instance, was tempered by the materialism of the drugs which brought them there; whilst the nature-loving environmentalism of the Nazis, is hardly recognisable as the utilitarian materialism of modern environmentalists. As Hitler passes out of living memory, and becomes a man of the past, hopefully a healthy interpretation of these facets can be reintroduced to our nutrient-deficient diets. Either that, or we shall be tricked by the politics of one of the many pill-dealers claiming to offer us a solution to our ailments. In summary then, history should be rooting for a team – not in jest, but in sincerity. This doesn’t require a kind of slavish allegiance to every decision and action the government has ever made – supporting 18th century British policy on slavery is uncountenanceable, after all. But in so far as we were once slavery’s greatest proponent, by the 19th century we became its greatest scourge, scrubbing every sea of its stain. Is that not something to be patriotic about? History is the story of nations, the waxing and waning of great states, the trials they face, the mistakes made, and the great humanitarian successes. And when you learn and study history, be sure to side, identify, and live within its story; not as an amoral grey alien, but as a living person within a living story. After all, history is not yet over, and her tides will continue to rise and fall. This is the story you are a part of.