Authors: Kenneth C. Davis
Don't Know Much About History, Anniversary Edition: Everything You Need to Know About American History but Never Learned (Don't Know Much About®) (3 page)
Following the seeming ambivalence of the American public toward recent elections and the chaotic events following Election Day 2000, it also seemed appropriate to include an election primer that explains some of the more mysterious elements of the process, from caucuses and delegate counts to the nearly mystical Electoral College. Another appendix presents a quick guide to the American presidents.
One encouraging indication that Americans are really interested in history but just want to learn it in a way that is more appealing than it was in high school is the success of a number of fine works of history that have become major best-sellers in the past few years, whether the World War II works of Stephen Ambrose, Mark Kurlansky’s intriguing combination of history and natural science in
Cod
, the reworking of American myths such as Nathaniel Philbrick’s
Mayflower
, or masterpieces of biography such as Ron Chernow’s
Alexander Hamilton
or David McCullough’s
John Adams
—later transformed into an admirable HBO miniseries
.
I have tried to highlight many of these books with an annotated list of sources for each chapter. The books I cite are either widely accepted standards or recent works that offer fresh insights or update accepted wisdom. I have also tried to single out those critically well received books written for the general reader rather than the specialist, such as James M. McPherson’s
Battle Cry of Freedom
, a masterful single-volume history of the Civil War, or Thomas Fleming’s
Liberty
, a companion book to a PBS history of the American Revolution, and a gem of regional history like Russell Shorto’s history of early Manhattan,
Island at the Center of the World
. Many of these books are cited in the text as “Must Reads,” while the Selected Readings in the back lists books that are valuable resources covering broader periods and themes.
In some cases, these sources take very specific political viewpoints. While I have attempted to present a spectrum of opinions on those issues where there is no broad consensus, I have tried to avoid any particular stance. It is interesting to me that my work was sometimes described as “liberal.” What I hoped to do in the first edition, and continue to strive for in this revision and update, is truth and accuracy, about Democrats as well as Republicans, liberals as well as conservatives. If I have a bias, I hope it is for telling the side of the story that the history books and mainstream media often overlook. And if “liberal” means believing in the ideas of America as laid out in the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution—ideas like “All men are created equal,” “We, the people,” “a more perfect union” (you get the idea)—then I plead guilty to the charge. But I like to think of myself as an equal opportunity basher, eager to reveal the failures on both sides of the political aisle.
Another occasional critic has called this book “anticorporation.” Admittedly, the book details the corruption and criminality of big business throughout the country’s history. But the Enron scandal is as American as apple pie. So I find myself in complete agreement with the American critic of businessmen who once attacked “men of wealth, who find the purchased politician the most efficient instrument of corruption”; men who were “the most dangerous members of the criminal class—the criminal of great wealth.” The man who spoke those words, long before Enron, Global Crossing, WorldCom, and convicted swindler Bernie Madoff existed, was that flaming liberal President Theodore Roosevelt. (By the way, Republican Teddy Roosevelt also attempted to get the words “In God We Trust” off American currency. He not only thought they were unconstitutional, but as a devout Christian, he considered them a sacrilege.)
It is comforting perhaps to pay lip service to a country that is supposedly dedicated to “government of the people, for the people and by the people,” but throughout American history, and certainly under our existing corporate-sponsored democracy, a good case can be made that America is and has been a government of, for, and by the special interests. A grassroots backlash to that reality was the motivating force behind the Progressive movement of the late nineteenth century, the New Deal reforms of the 1930s, and the Reform Party movement of Ross Perot in the 1980s. The excesses of corporate America in the era of “too big to fail,” and the response of official Washington to those excesses, have helped create the angry mood of America in 2010 as the nation struggles out of the “Great Recession.” This conflict was underscored in 2010, when a bitterly divided Supreme Court ruled that the government could not ban contributions by corporations, unions, or other organizations in elections, sweeping aside restrictions on campaign-finance laws.
If there is an underlying theme here, it is that the essence of history is the constant struggle for power. The battle between those holding power—whether it be the power of money, church, land, or votes—and the have-nots—the poor, the weak, the disenfranchised, the rebellious—is one main thread in the fabric of American history. The great disparity in wealth in America, a historical fact, has only increased during the past decade, according to census reports. The “haves” have more and there are more “have-nots.” How to correct that great chasm is a matter of constant debate.
With that in mind, it is also important to realize that few social movements or other major developments in American history come from the top down. We like to think of elected officials as leaders, but in fact they often follow where the country is going. Most of the great reform movements in American history, from abolition to temperance, suffrage and the civil rights movement, usually came from the grassroots level, with politicians often dragged reluctantly to catch up with the people as they moved forward. That is a story that is all too often overlooked in our history books. And it is another important reason to study history. Far too many people believe that they have no power, and that is a dangerous idea. The power of one can be a mighty force of change.
A second thread running through this and all Don’t Know Much About books is one that our schools and textbooks sadly bury. This is the impact of real people on history. At many turning points, it was the commanding presence of an individual—Washington, Lincoln, Frederick Douglass, the Roosevelts, and Susan B. Anthony, to name a few—that determined events, rather than the force of any idea or movement. Great ideals and noble causes have died for lack of a champion. At other times, the absence of a strong personality has had the reverse effect. For example, if a dominant president had emerged in the years before the Civil War, instead of the string of mediocrities who were elected, Lincoln’s emergence might have been stillborn and that deadly war averted.
When I was in the sixth grade, I remember standing in front of the classroom to deliver a current events report about an election in New York City. Although I don’t remember much of what I said, I do remember that as soon as I was finished, my teacher humiliated me. I can’t recall her exact words, but she dressed me down in front of my classmates. She told me that I had taken an important news story and made it dull and unimportant. I don’t know why she picked on me. But I was red-faced and ashamed.
I learned two important lessons that day that I have tried never to forget. The first is that teachers should never humiliate children who stand in front of a classroom. Embarrassment is no way to get kids to learn. And the second lesson? She was probably right. If I was going to talk about an important news story, I had better make it interesting.
And that is what I attempt to do in
Don’t Know Much About History.
The only way to make history and politics interesting, I have long believed, is by telling stories of real people doing real things. Over the years, as I have spoken to people around the country on talk radio, in bookstores, and lecture halls and classrooms, the overwhelming response of far too many Americans to history is a single word—“BORING!” For years, we have sent students to school and burdened them with the most tedious textbooks imaginable—deadly dull books written by one set of professors to be read by another set of professors—which completely suck the life out of this most human of subjects.
There is very often an underside, or at least a human side, to the story. Traditionally, we have wanted our heroes to be pure and unsullied. We want to tell a national story that is filled with pride and enthusiasm. But the greatest heroes of the American epic are still people—often flawed people with deep contradictions. The simple view of men like Washington, Lincoln, and Roosevelt as beatified heroes of the American epic doesn’t always stand up to scrutiny. The American story is not that simple. There are moments in our past that can breed feelings of cynicism and disgust. Yet there are other moments that evoke pride and admiration. But to me, it is the humanity of these people, and the fact that they accomplished great things in spite of their flaws and contradictions, that makes them so fascinating.
Generally speaking, Americans have behaved worse than our proudest boosters proclaim. America did not write the book on “ethnic cleansing,” but we did contribute some horrific chapters. That is why this history focuses on such moments as the Trail of Tears, Wounded Knee, My Lai, and Iraq’s Abu Ghraib prison, among many others. On the other hand, Americans have also shown a capacity to be better than the worst claims of their detractors. America has no monopoly on virtue or villainy. Every country has its share of nightmarish moments it would like to forget or erase. But the job of this historian is to keep these unpleasant memories alive.
A bit more than two hundred years old now, America is still young in the broad sense of history, even though the pace of history has accelerated radically as the twentieth-century techno-revolution has transformed media, travel, and communications. (It boggles my mind to consider that when this book was first written, fax machines, cell phones, and the Internet barely existed for most Americans—including me!) The history of this country is not necessarily a smooth continuum moving toward a perfectly realized republic. More accurately, history has acted like a pendulum with long swings creating a flux in one direction or another. America remains shockingly divided along racial and economic lines. One can look at that rift and feel pessimism. But the optimist points to the distance America has come in a relatively brief time. Of course, that is small consolation to those who have always been on the short end of the stick.
Perhaps what is more important is the commitment to an acknowledgment of the true American dream. Not the one about the house with two cars in the driveway and a barbecue in the backyard. But the dream Jefferson voiced more than two hundred years ago. Even though his vision of “all men created equal” was probably different from our modern understanding, it remains the noblest of dreams and the greatest of aspirations. The struggle to fulfill that dream has been a long, strange trip. And it is never over.
I
n the current era of political correctness, Columbus’s mistaken identification of the native people he found when he arrived has become suspect. Some prefer “First Americans,” “Native Americans,” “Amerindians,” and even “Aboriginal Americans.” This book uses “Indian,” following the lead of such eminent historians as Dee Brown, whose seminal work,
Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee,
is subtitled “An Indian History of the American West.”
Similarly, the use of “black,” which became the preferred term for “Negro,” has come under fire, with some writers preferring “African American.” Of course, neither “black” nor “African American” is perfectly accurate in describing a group of people who come in many hues and from many diverse backgrounds. Again, this book uses “black” as a widely agreed-upon term of reference. No offense is meant. I hope none is taken.
Who really “discovered” America?
If he wasn’t interested in the Bahamas, what was Columbus looking for in the first place?
Did Columbus’s men bring syphilis back to Europe?
So if Columbus didn’t really discover America, who did?
Okay, the Indians really discovered America. Who were they, and how did they get here?
If Columbus was so important, how come we don’t live in the United States of Columbus?
What became of Christopher Columbus?
Where were the first European settlements in the New World?
If the Spanish were here first, what was so important about Jamestown?
What was the Northwest Passage?
When and how did Jamestown get started?
Did Pocahontas really save John Smith’s life?
What was the House of Burgesses?
Who were the Pilgrims, and what did they want?
What was the Mayflower Compact?
