Some great discussions thus far and focused on, for example, the Spanish-American War, Progressivism, Women’s suffrage movement, Teddy Roosevelt’s presidency, ect.

I focused on 1904:

In December 1904 while addressing Congress President Teddy Roosevelt established what would become the “Roosevelt Corollary.” In this address Roosevelt declared that the United States must “exercise” its influence in the Western Hemisphere and join Europe as an “international police power,” or in other words an Imperial power. [1] Roosevelt’s “Big Stick” policy established the United States as truly a world power. The Spanish-American War of 1898, though a sweeping victory, did not establish the U.S. as a world player. It was a first step, and so it could be looked to as that defining moment.

However, I look to Roosevelt and his presidency as our ascendancy into the 20th Century. Roosevelt was our first Progressive president, an imperialist, and a visionary. His leadership expanded American influence, power, and prestige to such a degree that we became a modern imperialistic state. The Great White fleet alone by 1907 (initiated by Roosevelt by 1903), one could argue, was a unprecedented event for a nation dedicated to neutrality since its creation.

Economically, by 1904, the U.S. was becoming an industrial giant on an unprecedented scale. The mid-1890s was a depression wrecked economy, however, by 1904 the U.S. was experiencing an economic boom. The nation’s GDP double during the first decade of the century. Additionally, with the likes of Rockefeller, Carnegie, and JP Morgan, American industry was a giant. Rockefeller would become the first billionaire at this time. By 1900 the U.S. was the largest producer of steel in the world. Huge trusts had resulted in super corporations that established the U.S. as the leading industrial giant in the world. [2]

In foreign policy the early 1900s proved to be the awakening point for the U.S. as men had come to power who had their eye on growing American power and influence. Not just Roosevelt, though he was the key, however he joined John Jay,Secretary of State, Henry Cabot Lodge, influential thinkers such as Alfred T. Mahan, the Navial theorist who encouraged Roosevelt to develop a strong naval force and who probably first used the term “Middle East” in an article in the National Review about foreign policy illustrating how far the U.S. had come in international relations by 1904. Without the Great White fleet initiative and a strong navy, the U.S. was a second rate power without a visionary like Roosevelt.[3]

The Course Description:
This course is a study of national, theater, and operational command structures of the Union and Confederacy, the leadership styles of key military leaders on both sides, and the evolution of command and control in the war. Major themes include the relationship between the commanders in chief and the generals who led the armies in the field, the relationships between the generals themselves, and the ways in which the relationships described above either served to facilitate or debilitate the causes those commanders served.

But most importantly it is the quality of the instructor, Dr. Steven E. Woodworth, who is as prolific of a Civil War historian as I know.

His biography on the APU site reads:

Steven E. Woodworth (Ph.D., Rice University, 1987) is professor of history at Texas Christian University and author, co-author, or editor of twenty-seven books. He is a two-time winner of the Fletcher Pratt Award of the New York Civil War Round Table (for Jefferson Davis and His Generals and Davis and Lee at War), a two-time finalist for the Peter Seaborg Award of the George Tyler Moore Center for the Study of the Civil War (for While God Is Marching On and Nothing but Victory), and a winner of the Grady McWhiney Award of the Dallas Civil War Round Table for lifetime contribution to the study of Civil War history.

Here is his bio on his TCU page:

I was born in Ohio, raised in Illinois (mostly), and graduated
from Southern Illinois University in 1982 with a B.A. in history. Thereafter
I studied one year at the University of Hamburg, in Germany, before beginning
studies at Rice University, where I received a Ph.D. in 1987. From 1987 to
1997 I taught at Bartlesville Wesleyan College in Bartlesville, Oklahoma,
and at Toccoa Falls College in Toccoa Falls, Georgia. At both institutions
I was more or less the entire history department and taught everything from
ancient Mesopotamia to modern Europe and the United States. In 1997 I came
to TCU, where I teach courses in U.S. history as well as the Civil War and
Reconstruction and the Old South. My main field of specialization is the Civil
War. My publications include Jefferson Davis and His Generals (University
Press of Kansas, 1990), Davis and Lee at War (University Press of Kansas,
1995), Leadership and Command in the American Civil War (Savas Woodbury,
1996), The American Civil War: A Handbook of Literature and Research
(Greenwood, 1996), A Deep Steady Thunder (McWhiney Foundation, 1996),
Six Armies in Tennessee (1998), The Musick of the Mocking Birds,
The Roar of the Cannon (University of Nebraska Press, 1998), The Art
of Command in the Civil War (University of Nebraska Press, 1998), Civil
War Generals in Defeat (University Press of Kansas, 1999), This Grand
Spectacle (McWhiney Foundation, 1999), Chickamauga: A Battlefield Guide
(University of Nebraska Press, 1999), No Band of Brothers (University
of Missouri Press, 1999), The Human Tradition in the Civil War and Reconstruction
(Scholarly Resources, 2000), Cultures in Conflict (Greenwood, 2000),
Grant’s Lieutenants from Cairo to Vicksburg (University Press of Kansas,
2001), While God is Marching On: The Religious World of Civil War Soldiers
(University Press of Kansas, 2001).

Needless to say, I am studying the Civil War with one of its premiere historians, and Dr. Woodworth is one of many I have had and will be studying history with at APU.

Thomas Paine’s popularity today among historians and readers of early American history has numerous origins. It’s not hard to imagine why? He never owned slaves and immediately on his arrival (late 1774) denounced slavery and even joined Benjamin Franklin as a member of Franklin’s anti-slavery society. Paine also was an outspoken critic of the English Crown, parliament and its corruption, but most importantly for modern social historians, he was an advocate of the poor, the downtrodden. His ability to offer clarity, context, and relevance to the debate over separation from the mother country of England for the colonists was essential to the popularity of his famous pamphlet, “Common Sense.” His words would have inspired those Revolutionaries already decidedly for independence, and the simplicity and force of his argument would have swayed those who were “on the fence.” The Loyalists would have, most likely, stayed loyal regardless of Paine’s argument.

I am reading several books on Paine which I highlight here and highly recommend. I am also reading a few other books of note and I share those as well. Everything right now is pretty crazy with 2 graduate classes and a full load of classes I am teaching. The end is in sight however, with just a few more weeks of school to go!

The war was over and independence gained when the fledgling nation was rocked by Shay’s Rebellion. An event so unnerving that it was denounced by virtually all the Revolutionaries from Samuel Adams to George Washington, that it motivated the Confederation to announce that it was calling for a “convention of delegates” from the colonies to meet in Philadelphia for the purpose of strengthening the Confederation. Yet when the delegates arrived to a man they really had no true idea what authority they exactly had? It wasn’t clear to anyone, save James Madison who arrived first and clearly had an agenda. And it would be the nationalists (they became known as Federalists) who would dominate the convention and do so very early on.

When the Convention began in May of 1787 the 55 delegates were immediately sworn to secrecy; which on the sound of it comes off as a tactic of deception (towards American citizens), but in reality it was to product the members and encourage them to speak candidly. Philadelphia was of course a miserable place in the Summer and that added to the edgy mood. Berkin skillfully handles the issues one by one and does so in a very readable manner.  The issues of representation, government structure, state’s rights versus Federalism, electing the President, executive power, separation of powers, ect.

It’s an interesting thing, frankly. The discussions among the members of the Convention in regards to how we were to elect our Chief Executive. The people were seen, by some, as an ill-informed mob that could not possibly be trusted with electing the President. The reasons for this opinion were not that those who were meeting there were elites and regarded those beneath them with contempt, it was out of the impracticable nature of Eighteen Century society. Newspapers, for one, were regional and lacked a “continental”understanding of politics. Most people would not be informed of the issues or the candidates. News traveled slowly, the truth even slower.

Though the members of this Convention clearly outlined a government where the Legislative Branch would dominate, their debates and arguments over the election of the President displayed that they also were very worried about the Executive Branch and its potential power, especially in the hands of a corrupt person. Indeed, we struggle even today.

One note in the negative on Berkin’s book, she gives a very detailed description of Washington’s inauguration where she describes the President saying, “So Help Me God,” which was a surprise as many historians today doubt he uttered those words!

-C

Here’s a Précis of an article (I had to write for my “Historical Research Methods” Graduate Class) that I found fascinating:

McCullagh, C. Behan. “Bias in Historical Description, Interpretation, and Explanation.” History & Theory, Feb 2000, Vol. 39 Issue 1, p 39-66.

The question of historical objectivity seems to rest within a philosophical debate of epistemology. In our quest for pure history void of bias, McCullagh argues that there are two main types of biases: personal and cultural. The former correctable and the ladder, not so correctable. Within these two types of biases are four different ways in which historians express their bias: 1) misinterpretation of data; 2) omission of data; 3) incorrect descriptions of data; and finally, 4) misguiding the reader. Not all are intentional and some are correctable depending on the source of the bias.

Much like the idea that an army is a reflection of the society and culture that has produced it, so too is the historian. Because we are human we are fallible and some argue we are hopelessly destined to be unable to remove those cultural forces at play. But are we to simply accept the notion that we are destined to produce, even if ever so subtly, bias interpretations of history? McCullagh seems to argue yes and no.

Personal bias can and should be scrutinized and avoided in McCullagh’s opinion. By using “reasoning” strategies that focus on “detachment,” “fairness,” and “honesty” good historians can avoid personal bias. For example, historians must ask themselves: Why did he or she select the topic of study for their examination? Does the historian have an agenda? When a Christian sets out to write about the Great Crusades, is he seeking to right some perceived wrong in written history? The mere act of selecting a topic expresses some point view by the historian and therein a bias, does it not? A historian is looking for something when he selects a topic, something that they want to find. If the historian can employ critical control and be conscious of his own personal bias, he can largely avoid it, according to McCullagh. He can avoid misinterpretations and omissions, errors in descriptions, and therefore not mislead the reader.

The possible problem with McCullagh’s belief in removing personal bias from historical interpretation is the idea of “detachment.” How does one consciously remove those biases? I find this to be wishful thinking on McCullagh’s part. For as he admits, cultural bias is very difficult to understand and correct, and with that being said individual bias flows from culture. It seems the only way to truly avoid personal bias would be for historians to be assigned topics to describe, interpret and explain. When the historian does not have a vested personal interest in the event(s), then, maybe, a pure historical record void of prejudice could be produced. But even then, we have to question what is assigned to the historian, who assigns it, how was it assigned, and why was it assigned?

Cultural bias is a completely different animal than personal bias, as McCullagh admits. Cultural relativism and bias stem from societal circumstances. How we see the world is ultimately how we are impacted by the environment in which we have lived. Each generation reinterprets history from its own ideological view of it. We use history. Historians become not truth seekers, but cultural warriors. They are reflections of their society and time, and how and why they wield the pen, speaks as much about them as how and why an army fights a war.

There is a form of historiographical discourse (particularly prevalent in the United States) where the historical writing on any issue is divided up into different schools (Conservative, Progressive, Revisionist, ect) each said to present a distinct view on the issue. To concentrate on the differences of interpretation which historians present is to miss the main purpose of historical study: deepened understanding of the past. (328)

…by bringing competing hypotheses into open  confrontation with each other, by forcing re-examination of methodology and sources, by forcing authors to consider new approaches and new evidence, it ultimately advances the cause of historical understanding. (329)

The different schools of history writing need to be presented, with care, and in doing so they can only help to expand and “deepen” our understanding of history. Indeed. Perhaps I overstepped by saying Zinn should not be used in a serious way, he should be used, but in an objective and fair manner. But that’s the problem, who determines what is objective and what is fair?

In my graduate “Historical Research Methods” class we have had, as you can imagine, plenty of discussions on historical research and writing. We’ve been reading a lot about “objectivity” and honesty in the field of history. How we research and how we write involves more than just looking for something and arranging it chronologically or however.

Here are some random thoughts of mine based on what has happened over this weekend in regards to my stand on Zinn and history:

First, is historical “objectivity” truly attainable? Historians are first and foremost a product of something. They bring with them ethos and beliefs that permeate everything they do, this cannot be avoided. Alas, they are human.

Show me a teacher or a historian who says they are 100% objective, and I’ll show you liar. I just don’t think it possible anymore. At one time I did.

Peter Novick, in his excellent book That Noble Dream: The Objectivity Question and the American Historical Profession, traced the evolution of American historicism.  Novick’s book is a tour de force, an incredible journey through American historical writing.  As I made my way through his book I was struck by the obvious connection between social movements and history writing.

I also discovered myself sympathetic to some movements and not sympathetic to others. Why? (Sorry Fischer)  Because ultimately I am a social and political animal and I am sensitive to some things, and sympathetic to others. Just as a historian would be.

For example, if you looked at history writing during the height of the Cold War from the late 1940s to the 1950s and compared it with the late 60s and 70s, you would see a clear break between two distinct approaches towards American History. Novick titled this chapter dealing with this time period: “Objectivity in Crisis.”

Before this time period, historians generally agreed on what Novick describes as “explanandum,” or “that which is to be explained.” There was a conservative belief in what should be taught. Therefore objectivity was rarely questioned.

By the 1960s, there was no longer a consensus. What emerged during this time was an “oppositional” movement; which helped the study of history move into areas of neglect: women, African-Americans, and the whole idea of history from the “bottom up.”

These “New Left” historians began to reinterpret the past. They tackled things such as McCarthyism and the origins of the Cold War, and did so without a bias in favor of the United States. Also, as we know, the 1960s and 70s was the time of the “counterculture” movement, and that this “new” history developed side-by-side is (of course) no coincidence.

This movement in history writing is important because it exposed the lapses in traditional historical writing. This time period also saw the evolution of “social history.” But this “new” history and the historians who wrote it became a part of the social movement and expressions of it. This was an incredibly exciting time to be a historian. These new historians saw themselves as champions of a cause. And indeed, they were helping to move history writing in American in a new direction.

These new historians were not so much concerned with “objectivity” because they felt that objectivity had been lost long ago; and indeed they may have been correct. They were seeking what they saw as a “truth.”

They saw themselves as political animals as well. To remain politically neutral was dishonest in their view. As Novick points out, they saw “Scholarly dispassion [as] the true medium of the scholar satisfied with things as they are.” The New Left historians were here to shake things up. And indeed they did, and have. Being “passionate” was a part of this new social and history writing movement.

This brings me to my second point, where does passion belong in the writing of history? I thought that without it you would have history void of a human quality. History was boring without a passionate storyteller.

Now I am starting to wonder if passion is what is wrong with history writing, both Right and Left. When I select a topic because I have a strong desire to see something or right a wrong, I cannot help but be helplessly biased in my approach. In my graduate class we looked at “The Rape of Nanking” from both a Chinese and Japanese view. This had a profound impact on me. History was being used as an emotional medium with tremendous amounts of passion and sometimes little evidence. Each culture fighting over how the event is remembered. Who owns history? Clearly both have a stake in how this event is written and both have a right to defend their viewpoint. Therefore, both are right and wrong. Each was being dishonest in order to protect their past.

My instructor is having us, I think, focus on the evidence and to allow it and only it to guide us. This process is void of passion and places us mentally in a very static position. Removing passion and a sense of social justice from our thinking is proving difficult. It takes the fun and excitement out of the research and the writing.

Finally, what is historical truth? Is it what historians deem worthy of study and what evidence is important or not? Are historians more guardians of social and/or political movements than truth seekers?

I want to leave you with a few quotes from selected readings. I don’t know if any of these fine historians is right or not, but it helps to at least confuse the subject even more than I have!

David Hackett Fischer, in his Historical Fallacies: Toward a Logic of Historical Thought, wrote: “Most historians tell stories in their work. Good historians tell true stories. Great historians, from time to time, tell the best true stories which their topics and problems permit.”

Eric Foner, Who Owns History? Rethinking the Past in a Changing World, wrote: “Americans have always had an ambiguous attitude toward history. ‘The past,’ wrote Herman Melville, ‘is the text-book of tyrants; the future is the Bible of the free.’”

Barbara W. Tuchman, Practicing History, wrote: “If the historian will submit himself to his material instead of trying to impose himself on his material, then the material will ultimately speak to him and supply the answers.”

According to Fisher, there are, you guessed it, a range of assumptions that a lot of historians make when they are writing about history. These “fallacies” hopelessly doom the work of some historians as flawed.

If you were an aspiring historian and read this book, you might be convinced to give it up for doing such things as starting your research by asking “Why” can lead to a “metaphysical question” and, according to Fisher, you would be starting with an “imprecise” question. Questions should be framed within the “How, When, Where, What” variety. The variety of “Fallacies” to avoid is incredible and ultimately overwhelming yet, the gist of Fisher’s argument and the theme of his book has merit and is much food for thought!

As a matter of fact, one of the worst questions to ask, according to Fisher, is the “Was the War inevitable?” in regards to the American Civil War. Why? Darn, there I go again…

Anyway, because, as Fisher says, these types of questions come down to asking if something were “evitable” or “inevitable” and this is opinion. Hence, my not picking up and reading Fisher’s book was based on my opinion and nothing more!

Fisher has his heart in the right place and does seek to help fledgling historians consider all aspects of their research and writing. The framing of our questions are as essential as the means and ways in which we answer them, or attempt to answer them.

Fisher writes, “Historians who seek to frame factual questions and to verify factual answers almost always do so in order to elicit a historical explanation of some sort.” (p.100). When they should simply do so “for the sake of the facts themselves.”

It all comes down to historical objectivity and is there truly an objective historian?

I argued that even though there are times where cavalry played what could be argued a pivotal role in a battle, most of the time they fought dismounted and the horse was simply a vehicle for transportation.

Well, the grade is back and I earned a 93 out of a 100. I use the word “earned” as too often students and educations use the wording “you got the score of …” implying that it was like a lottery, you know, up for grabs.

I have an A in the class and will close that out obviously (still one more paper to write), but I am not sure how I feel about the grade. I felt I had a good argument and defended it with some good research. I guess in the end, students are all the same, no matter the age, we all think our grade should have been better

C

PAPER#1: Did cavalry play a decisive role in the American Civil War?

A question was once presented to me by a professor in a graduate class: Civil War cavalry, precursor to blitzkrieg or military anachronism? It was an interesting question ten years ago and still is today. Some of the most famous commanders and intriguing personalities of the war were cavalrymen: Jeb Stuart, Nathan Bedford Forrest, John Buford, Ben Grierson, Philip Sheridan, etc. Despite their fame, were they a decisive factor in the battles in which they were participants? In an 8-10 page report you may select one or multiple commanders, reference a specific battle, or refer to Civil War cavalry in general. Your approach is entirely up to you.

I have to admit that the question should be interesting to research, but that I wanted something else for a first paper. I’m thinking I might have to give Eric a buzz, especially since three of his books are suggested reading for this assignment.