Last week, a well-known clothing manufacturer sold a sweatshirt reading “Kent State University,” covered in what look like bloodstains. In an apparent attempt to be edgy, they conjured up memories of the 1970 Kent State massacre, when student protesters were shot and killed by the Ohio National Guard during an anti-Vietnam war demonstration.
Earlier this summer, one of their competitors sold a gown whose black and white stripes and six-pointed yellow star were chillingly reminiscent of Jewish concentration camps.
These products do more than just exploit death and violence — they also disrespect the historical awareness that honors those who were wronged. They send an implicit message that the memory of those events is appropriately reducible to a fashion statement.
Blunders like these (and the resulting outrage) remind us how powerfully our identities and values are informed by the past — and how important it is that we take responsibility for that historical awareness. If we abandon our memories, we abandon the cohesion and continuity that give our lives purpose — that give shape to our most meaningful dialogues about community, liberty, justice, and wrongdoing.
It’s tempting to say history doesn’t matter, that the past is past and offers nothing useful. But to value history, we need not expect it to predict the future or teach us easily applicable lessons. Rather, it defines the way we see ourselves today. Although it seldom yields proofs or predictions like those of math or science, history offers a rich sense of what is possible and gives the perspective we need to understand our own time with greater clarity.
Even if we take these clothing companies at their word and assume that they didn’t mean to exploit human suffering for commercial gain, their lack of historical appreciation is appalling. Kent State reminds us of the horrors of police brutality and violence born from fear and resentment. Six-pointed yellow stars symbolize a deep anti-Semitism that continues in Europe, and that previously resulted in the unspeakable atrocity of the Holocaust. There’s a reason we’ve been told to “Never Forget.”
These events don’t simply live in the past — their moral significance carries into the present and fuels those essential questions about how we ought to live our lives and treat each other.
To study history is to take ownership of the human race, sharing in its triumphs and bearing witness to its sins and follies. We join a legacy of transient beings striving to craft a fleeting world for the better. Only by linking ourselves to them across the ages do we keep that legacy intact.
That’s why “knowing” history isn’t enough. Learning basic history in high school and visiting the occasional museum won’t guarantee a meaningful grasp of past events. It’s also important to understand how history is crafted.
The influence of the past on our collective values makes history a source of power — whether to glorify national identity or justify war and persecution. As Orwell said, “Who controls the past, controls the future. Who controls the present, controls the past.” The hallmark of a free society is the ability to question, be it the authority of rulers or the veracity of the stories we’re asked to buy into. How much of our legacy is true, and how much is just wishful thinking?
It’s not just about power, though. Historians — even those without an agenda — are inevitably biased one way or another. Every interpretation reflects a particular perspective with its own attitudes and assumptions.
Anyone who cares about the past must take it upon themselves to be at least mildly familiar with the methods of historical practice--to understand how historical “facts” get made. Only then will we be safe against destructive, misleading narratives.
Collingwood once said that all of history is really the history of thought. We study history to understand our predecessors and how they saw the world — and, hopefully, to recognize ourselves in them. We are but the most recent participants in a longstanding ethical project, and that makes the study of history a moral imperative.
Those who came before have left their footprints in time. To make full sense of who we are, we must discover the path by which we’ve come to be.
Jonathan Iwry is a 2014 College graduate. His last name is pronounced "eev-ree." His email address is jon.iwry@gmail.com. "The Faithless Quaker" usually appears every Monday.
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