Undaunted Fraud . . . Or, What Is History? Pt. I

History fascinates me.  It makes sense then that I'd get a degree in it, and want to pursue a masters, Ph.D and eventually teach it.  That last part is what fascinates me the most.  The modern historian's job is to teach, and they do their job both in the classroom and by constantly reporting the sum of their findings -- either in the form of books, or in peer-reviewed articles.  The telling of story in which the whole truth can never be known, presents inherent challenges.  The first is in answering the question What Is History?

A lay interpretation is something like "the sum of all things which occurred in the past."  But during the twentieth century historians (and just about everyone else) realized that as important as the events are the ways in which they are perceived.  This means that for every event that occurs today, there are millions of equally valid perspectives; history then becomes distilling them into a narrative that approximates truth.  A daunting prospect.  

I've spent the last two months or so reading just about everything ever written on and by Dwight Eisenhower.  I'm working for Dr. Christopher McKnight Nichols write his next book which chronicles the shift in Republican conservatism in the 1952 election of Dwight Eisenhower. 

What makes this project particularly compelling is the breadth of knowledge already compiled about Eisenhower.  His early life is far from fully documented, but from the moment he entered West Point in 1911 his life became documented in performance evaluations, journal articles, efficiency reports, public speeches, private correspondences, government reports, State Department communiques, Congressional Records, magazine and newspaper articles, drafts, memos, and his own letters and diaries. 

The extent of documents is daunting.  Much of it remains locked away in the vaults of the Eisenhower museum, or the Library of Congress, or scattered throughout the United States -- indeed, the world.  But so much more is published that researching from my cubicle in the library is made that much easier.

His first biography was published in 1945, Soldier of Democracy by Kenneth David, and paints the picture of a glorious war hero.  Invested heavily with overtures to greatness, it reads as though David Dwight Eisenhower (the names were reversed later to avoid confusion with his father, also David) had been born in the midst of thunder and lightening and three wizened crones had haggled over his future.  It's well written, but nonetheless is a homogenized "great man" history that paints the victory in Europe as all but inevitable. 

Later biographies follow that model.  Man from Abilene by Kevin McCann is a 1952 biopic published in the midst of his successful bid for the White House.  It's contribution lies in the presentation of Eisenhower's childhood before At Ease, Eisenhower's own reminiscences, was published.  But the adoration remains.  It would remain, in fact, until after Ike's presidency when arm-chair policymakers had begun criticizing and dismantling his two-term run. 

Kay Summersby

In 1948, Kay Summersby published her kiss-and-tell, Eisenhower Was My Boss which didn't so much tell as it intimated that the long and oft-repeated rumors about Ike's wartime lover were true.  After Ike died, Summersby published a follow-up which no longer hinted: it told outright.  The 1976 book was explicit in its title: Past Forgetting: My Love Affair With Dwight D. Eisenhower.  His wife, Mamie, responded by publishing the love letter Ike sent her during the war but it quickly became evident that perhaps the general doth protest too much.

The facade had slipped, and as public perceptions about Ike shifted in the years following his death, historians and pundits began chipping away at his accomplishments.  His presidency became the lens through which his life was viewed, and as nay-sayers began charging him with absenteeism in the White House, they began to suspect that he'd been an absentee general.  Living a life of luxury in England, gallivanting with Kay and his harem of WACs, the picture gradually being painted was a lurid depiction of a man given supreme command not because of his ability to form coalitions, but as a sop to Americans who needed a friendly face to promote the war effort.  Montgomery, Bradley, Patton, Alexander, Spaatz, just about every general other than Ike became responsible for winning the war. 

Ike with SecState John Foster Dulles in 1956

That sort of revisionism is a necessary response to the gushing praise of earlier generations, and it helps inform the contributions of others in that great enterprise.  Defenders of Ike had to answer these charges, and they helped create a picture of the President that was both more subtle and more involved than previous historians suspected.  A master manipulator, he guided U.S. policy through his deft use of his secretary of state, the vice-president, and the CIA.  With his intimate understanding of military procurement and insight into the ways the Army (still) pads its budget, he was able to steer the United States toward disarmament while maintaining national security.  He despaired of a time when a President would arrive who didn't have his knowledge of how the Army worked, understanding that it would ride roughshod over its civilian masters.

But then came Stephen Ambrose.  His two volume biography on Eisenhower remains the most popular depiction of the general and president.  The problem?  Much of it is made up.

Join me on Monday as I discuss Ambrose, making stuff up, and conclude just what history is.