“History is always written by the winners. When two cultures clash, the loser is obliterated, and the winner writes the history books — books which glorify their own cause and disparage the conquered foe. As Napoleon once said, ‘What is history, but a fable agreed upon?’” — Dan Brown, “The Da Vinci Code.”
A big difference exists between history and historiography. History is what actually took place in the past. Historiography is the writing or recording of history — who writes it, with what agenda in mind and toward what ends?
I love history. I mean it. I love studying history, talking about history, watching films, reading books, etc. I love finding out answers or exploring unanswered questions. Was Helen of Troy a real historical figure? When did the harvesting of oysters as food begin? Who invented the rubber band? Why did Japan decide to attack the United States in World War II?
No matter how much I find out about events, there’s always more to the story. There’s always information we’ll never know.
History is told by those who experienced it or by those who have collected information about it. I have talked to people who were in combat in WWII and in other military action since. I heard the story of bomber crews returning to base as the Enola Gay headed on toward its atomic target in Japan, from a man who was part of one of those crews.
If I repeated the story to you, it would be my words, my memory of what he said and how he told it. I would be telling you my memory of his memory — and even if he remembered it in stark, perfect detail, he didn’t describe the looks on faces or feelings or words spoken by his crew mates. He didn’t describe the interior of his craft or its bomb payload. He just talked about seeing the other planes through the canopy, his elation and hearing the war was ending and his confusion over why one plane was ignoring the command to return to base.
His memories. My memory of his memories. How history is told and possibly becomes something other than what actually took place.
Even with the greatest desire to tell absolute truth, we can sometimes get things wrong. We also can only tell our viewpoint of an event we witnessed.
I witnessed a gruesome motor vehicle accident one day more than 25 years ago. The images are still seared into my mind.
I won’t describe exactly what happened — I did mention it was gruesome — but I was standing in a parking lot at the moment a midsize vehicle plowed without slowing into the back of a stationary 18-wheeler. I was close enough to see … too much.
People in other vehicles witnessed the same accident, from different angles. We each would tell the story a different way if we shared what we saw. Some of the details would be the same, and the main thrust of the story would no doubt be the same. But it would not be exact. We tell what we experience.
People wonder why in the four Gospel accounts, each disciple of Jesus tells different stories and their accounts differ somewhat. It’s because they’re telling it in their words, from their perspectives. They are recounting the parts they think are most important to tell for their intended audiences. They’re telling it the way they would tell it. It’s one of the marks of truth — if police interrogate witnesses who give word-for-word identical accounts, you can rest assured they are lying. No one remembers an account and gives a word-for-word retelling of it the same as someone else. But if the main points hold up, and changes are only in matters of perspective and memory, they are most likely telling the truth.
Accident investigators would determine what happened in that wreck with a high likelihood of accuracy. But they did not see it. A recreation is not the same as the event.
I have read the biblical account of Moses standing near a bush that burned but was not consumed — how he heard the voice of God himself. I am fascinated by this account, written by Moses himself, and I think it would have been wonderful to see — literally, full of wonder. But it would also be terrifying. If I was actually there when it happened, and could see and hear what Moses did, I would be terrified until and unless God gave me peace. Hearing the audible voice of God while seeing such a strange sight would not be an ordinary experience for any human. The account is much different than the experience. The telling cannot fully recreate the happening.
But then there are “historical” accounts that intentionally include lies or omit truth.
I saw a movie that billed itself as “based on a true story” — a couple is home alone when someone knocks at the door and asks for a person who doesn’t live there. Then the stranger and two others terrorize the couple throughout the night. I investigated to find out the true story on which it was based. I discovered that the writer based the movie on a memory from his childhood — a woman his family did not know knocked on their door and asked his mother if Monica was there. His mom replied, “No. There’s no Monica here.” The stranger asked, “Are you sure?” and walked away. It scared him and he couldn’t forget it. It led to the writing of the story the movie was based on. Not a true story at all, but a “what if” story based on a short memory.
Then there are books like the one the Dan Brown quote above comes from, “The Da Vinci Code.” The book’s introduction claims that every description of historical groups, events, paintings, architecture and locales are accurate in every detail. It was a claim Brown and his art historian wife defended fiercely. Yet any student of art can tell you his description of the Mona Lisa and other paintings in The Louvre are completely inaccurate. If those things are wrong — and easily fact-checked — then why would anyone believe his claims about the deity of Jesus in this novel?
Indeed, Mr. Brown, what is history but a fable agreed upon? This may be accurate, but should it be?
Read what you want. Watch what you want. Believe what you want.
But for your own sake, know what to dismiss and what to retain. If you don’t know, try to find out.
Don’t believe blindly, no matter who tells you. Do yourself a favor and do the research. Know why you believe what you believe.
About God, about history, about anything.
