|
|
 |
 |

Fall 2003
Leaving Reality Out
How Textbooks (Don't) Teach
About Tyranny
Diane
Ravitch
In the summer of 2003, I turned 65. I was born in 1938. I
have seen a lot of history in my lifetime. I remember World War II. I
remember rationing books, blackouts, my family’s "victory garden," German
prisoners-of-war behind a barbed-wire fence in Galveston, Tx., President
Roosevelt’s death, and V-J day. In the 1950s and 1960s, I met survivors of
the Holocaust who had blue numbers tattooed on their forearms. I remember
racial segregation: The Houston schools were segregated, and so were
drinking fountains, public buses, movie theaters, and every other public
facility.
When I went to college in the fall of 1956, I met Hungarian students whose
families had fled to the United States after the failed revolution there. I
vividly remember Martin Luther King, Jr.’s speech at the March on Washington
in 1963 because I participated in the march. I have firsthand recollections
of President Kennedy’s assassination, demonstrations against the Vietnam
war, President Nixon’s resignation, and the fall of the Berlin Wall. I
remember Franklin D. Roosevelt as a distant figure but have clear memories
of Harry S. Truman, Dwight D. Eisenhower, John F. Kennedy, Lyndon B.
Johnson, Richard Nixon, Gerald Ford, Jimmy Carter, Ronald Reagan, George H.W.
Bush, Bill Clinton, and George W. Bush.
The same is true for others my age. The longer you live, the more history
you witness. Experience, it is said, is a great teacher, and it is true.
Experience gives you a personal fund of knowledge of events and people. And,
it gives you a sense of context to which one can relate new events.
By virtue of their age, students have little direct knowledge of history. A
typical 15-year-old student in 2003 was born in 1988. He or she is likely to
remember only two presidents: Bill Clinton and George W. Bush. Youngsters of
this age cannot recall a world in which the Soviet Union existed. For most,
September 11 was the only historic event they have personally known in their
young lives. Because of their age and inexperience, whatever they know about
the history of the past century--and the centuries that preceded it--will
largely depend on what they learn in school. As our nation faces a period of
continuing peril from threats of terrorism, as concern grows about how to
find the right balance between security and civil liberties, students need a
historical context to understand today’s issues. Certainly they need to
learn about the system of government that has made possible the freedoms
they enjoy. They need to know where those freedoms originated and how they
were established. But to fully appreciate and understand freedom, students
need to know what it means to live in a society that does not have the
rights and freedoms that we take for granted.
Our students know that our democracy has many flaws; they learn about them
in school. They can also read about them on any given day in the newspaper
or see them described on television. We regularly hear critics enumerate the
errors of our foreign policy, our energy policy, our tax policy, our
environmental policy, even the character of top officials in national,
state, and local governments. We know that there are injustices in our
society, and we expect the press to expose them and teachers to discuss them
in their classes.
Living in a free society, it would be easy to imagine that people in other
societies enjoy the same rights and freedoms as we do. Some do, most do not.
According to the most recent annual Freedom House survey, 35 percent of the
world’s population live in nations that are "not free" and another 21
percent live in "partly free" nations. As children grow to maturity, as they
study history and civics, it is important for them to understand the
differences between living in a democratic society and living where freedom
is limited or nonexistent. It is important not because we want to
congratulate ourselves, but because we want the younger generation to be
prepared both to defend and improve democratic institutions.
In order to understand our rights and freedoms, young Americans need to
learn about their absence. They need to know what it means to live in a
world where one lives in fear of the rulers. What does it mean to live in a
society where one expects the telephone line to be tapped, where one expects
personal mail to be opened, where one cannot publish one’s views or
criticize the leaders without punishment, where critics of the regime
disappear without a trace, where one dreads a knock on the door in the
middle of the night? For almost all young Americans, such knowledge is
remote from their personal experience.
Few American students have ever lived in a society where there were no
elections or where elections were a sham; where criticism of the leader was
a crime punishable by years in prison; where the press and all other media
served the government; where there was no independent judiciary to limit the
powers of the government; where individuals were arbitrarily arrested and
imprisoned; where individuals were not free to travel abroad or to join
organizations (like labor unions) with others; and where individuals had few
or no rights.
If students don’t study the reality of tyranny in school, they’re unlikely
to learn of it anywhere else. And their potential for political judgment
will be limited by their political naiveté.
There have been tyrants throughout human history, people who wanted to
exercise complete control of their subjects, but only in the 20th century
did dictators like Hitler, Mussolini, Stalin, Pol Pot, and Mao have the
bureaucratic and technological tools to achieve their fearsome ends on a
grand scale. These men killed tens of millions of people. How they took
power, how they controlled huge numbers of people, and how they stamped out
individual freedom should be an important part of history studies. Students
should also know tyranny is not merely a historical phenomenon. They should
be prepared to recognize its earmarks today in societies like North Korea,
Zimbabwe, and Cuba, where dictators hold a monopoly on power and ban free
expression, and in Iran, where an iron-willed theocracy squelches dissident
voices.
But schools are not well-prepared to teach about tyranny. I assign much of
the responsibility for this failure to history textbooks, upon which most
teachers of history depend for accurate information about far-flung
societies. Even when teachers are well-educated in history (and many are
not--thanks to teacher-education programs and teacher-assignment policies
that are dismissive of content knowledge), it is unrealistic to expect
teachers to know everything about the history of the entire world, and this
elevates the power of the messages in the textbooks.
In my view, based on a careful reading of widely used textbooks in world
history, these texts do a poor job of explaining what it means to live under
tyranny. I think there are three main reasons for this.
First, some of today’s world history texts exhibit a deeply ingrained
cultural relativism. They are reluctant to make the judgment that a
democratic system of government is superior to nondemocratic ones. They
express a neutral tone of voice in which some people prefer democracy and
respect human rights, and other people prefer local traditions that are
different. This studied tone of neutrality implies that a preference for
democratic institutions reflects Western values that should not be "imposed"
on those who have other values.
Second, world history textbooks seem quite willing to condemn
dictatorships that are extinct, like that of Hitler and Stalin, but in
general are remarkably deferential to regimes that are still in power,
like those of Iran, Cuba, and China. Mao--who was responsible for the deaths
of more people than any other world leader, including Stalin and Hitler--is
treated with great deference in almost every textbook.
Third, and most important, the textbooks give scant attention to the
realities of living in a tyranny or to abuses of human rights because they
must compress major events to bare details. It is not merely that
judgment is not rendered, but that factual details about life in a
dictatorship are so scant and so abbreviated that students get no sense of
reality or context, thus limiting their ability to make their own judgments.
A single book that attempts to tell the history of all the world’s
civilizations, from ancient times to the present, cannot afford to spend
much time on any one of them. Students cannot possibly understand what it
was like to live in fascist Europe or the Ba’athist Middle East or Idi
Amin’s Uganda when the textbooks barely mention the political character of
most regimes or sum them up in a few sentences or short paragraphs. Even in
the rare case when the excesses of a brutal regime merit three or four
pages, the treatment is so superficial that it lacks the narrative power to
kindle students’ desire to learn more on their own.
Nazi Germany and Stalin’s Soviet Union get more attention than other
tyrannies. Each receives a number of pages detailing how these regimes came
to power; facts about their brutal use of power; and even one or two vivid
firsthand accounts of individuals who suffered under their rule. Even for
study of these two countries, however, teachers would do well to supplement
the textbook with outside readings that would give students a more sustained
exposure to the workings of the regime and its effect on real people, to the
daily routine of the Nazi concentration camps or the medical experiments
performed by Nazi doctors, life in the gulag, or Stalin’s purges and
show trials.
But after Stalin and Hitler, the facts and vignettes that would convey the
texture of life under tyranny are few. The 20th-century’s string of
Latin-American dictators (and sometimes its guerrilla movements) elicit
harsh words and phrases, but usually only in the context of one or two
sentences and rarely with the facts, faces, or numbers that make the harsh
words meaningful. In Prentice Hall’s Connections to Today, the Somoza
regime of Nicaragua "looted" the population; in McDougal Littell’s Modern
World History, Somoza’s regime is referred to as a dictatorship, without
further elaboration. Connections has a strong paragraph about human
rights abuses in El Salvador, explaining that "right-wing death squads
slaughtered church workers, student and labor leaders, and anyone else
thought to sympathize with leftists," and that the Archbishop of El Salvador
was "gunned down as he celebrated mass in a chapel." (It fails, however, to
even mention the murders committed by the country’s Marxist guerrillas.) But
Modern World History dismisses El Salvador with no more than a brief,
nonjudgmental paragraph. Connections reports that Papa Doc Duvalier
of Haiti "used his brutal secret police, the Tonton Macoutes, to crush
opposition and terrorize the people," but neither Modern World History
nor Holt, Rinehart & Winston’s World History: Continuity and Change
mentions Papa Doc or modern Haiti.
None of these texts is wholly unworthy or inadequate, but they can’t
possibly "cover" everything in sufficient detail to evoke a sense of reality
or even mention everything that might be important for students to know.
Typically, the textbooks provide superficial coverage of no more than a few
sentences or paragraphs, or they give passing mention to events, names, and
terms that are added so that the textbook complies with every state’s
checklist of topics and names.
Even when a textbook gives a relatively ample treatment to a single nation,
as Holt, Rinehart & Winston’s People & Nations gives to modern
Argentina, it is still quite brief--a little over two pages, including three
paragraphs about the criminal outrages perpetrated by the military junta.
Sometimes the references are even shorter. For example, Glencoe’s World
History: The Human Experience (hereafter referred to as The Human
Experience to avoid confusion with Glencoe’s text titled World
History) allots eight short paragraphs to modern Argentina. One of these
paragraphs sums up the military dictatorship of this era: "Argentina’s
military leaders sparked an economic recovery, but ruled brutally. Death
squads roamed the country, torturing and killing those who dissented. About
20,000 people simply disappeared. Mothers of missing children brought these
human rights abuses to the world’s attention through their weekly silent
protest in Buenos Aires." It is an editorial feat to boil down this
frightening period in the history of modern Argentina to four compact
sentences.
Another region that is usually neglected in the textbooks is Eastern Europe,
whose nations were trapped in the Soviet orbit for half a century. They
receive scant attention, a few pages at best, and they are usually lumped
together as a single unit. Based on the typical treatment of this
historically important region, it is nearly impossible for students to learn
much about the unique experiences of Poland, Hungary, Lithuania, Albania, or
Romania.
Most textbooks provide accurate, if bare, factual details about Eastern
Europe as part of the Soviet bloc, briefly mentioning the Berlin airlift,
the Hungarian revolution of 1956, and the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia
in 1968. But no textbook adequately conveys the political history of any of
these countries, the events that caused them to lose their independence, or
the oppressive conditions that prompted dissidents to risk their lives to
escape or protest.
The books have so little space to devote to each topic that students cannot
possibly imagine what life was like for an ordinary citizen in any country
that was ruled by a tyrant, whether fascist, communist, or a garden-variety
dictator.
In today’s textbooks, cultural relativism, deference to existing regimes,
and the imperative of textual compression are interchangeable elements. As a
consequence, world history textbooks today send a confusing signal about
tyranny. The textbooks point out the bad features of tyrannous regimes, but
when writing about modern-day tyrants like Mao and Castro, they seem to feel
compelled to show their accomplishments as well as their flaws. Textbook
publishers must believe this approach to contemporary dictatorships shows
that their books are "balanced." But of course these books do not write
about Hitler in terms of his "success" in reducing unemployment, building
new highways, launching the popular Volkswagon, and controlling inflation.
Surely a text must consider, when teaching about democracy and undemocratic
alternatives, whether egregious brutality may ever be justified: Can one
accept human rights abuses, liquidation of opponents, rigged elections,
censorship, and repression if the ruling authorities are able to produce
gains in education, health care, and economic growth? Those who believe that
good ends never justify evil means would surely answer ‘no.’ Which of us
would want to live in a utopia of fear? Classroom discussion about the issue
of means and ends is important and must occur. That discussion never happens
in today’s textbooks. This explains why the books are unable to speak
unequivocally against regimes that are cruel, racist, anti-Semitic,
oppressive to women, and indifferent to human life.
This article presents a close review of how recent textbooks from major
publishers* handle four cases of tyranny: Cuba, the longest-running
dictatorship in this hemisphere; China, the largest unfree country in
today’s world and (cumulatively) the most murderous totalitarian regime of
the last century; fundamentalist Islam, in which theocracies have created a
new model of tyranny, especially for dissidents and women; and some of the
most notorious dictatorial African regimes.
Cuba
The textbooks acknowledge that Fidel Castro is a dictator, but most (an
honorable exception being World History: Continuity and Change) feel
compelled to point out the benefits of his repressive rule. Connections
says, "While Castro imposed harsh authoritarian rule, he did improve
conditions for the poor. During the 1960s, Cuba provided basic health care
for all, promoted equality for women, and increased the nation’s literacy
rate." On the other hand, the book notes that the "communist dictatorship
angered middle-class Cubans. Critics were jailed or silenced, and hundreds
of thousands fled to the United States." An accompanying photograph shows
six people on a little raft and asks why people were willing to risk the
voyage from Cuba to Florida. Why indeed would so many flee from a society
where health, welfare, education, and other basic needs were allegedly
achieved? A student would have a difficult time answering the question if
the only information available were the material in the text, which says
little about the brutality of Castro’s regime.
In its very brief treatment of Castro’s Cuba, Glencoe’s The Human
Experience offers two heroic quotations about him. One quotes him on the
nature of a true revolutionary: "one acts to move the masses, the other
waits for the masses to have a conscience already before starting to act."
The other quote describes January 1, 1959, the day he overthrew dictator
Batista: "Along the road to Santiago, crowds of people waved and cheered as
Castro’s ragtag troops passed by in battered jeeps and trucks. ‘Viva, Fidel!
Viva la revolucion!’ they cried. So delirious were the throngs, so swept
away by the power of the moment, that a friend of Castro’s later recalled,
‘It was like a messiah arriving. We were walking on a cloud.’" The text does
not mention that some of Castro’s revolutionary colleagues were subsequently
jailed or executed. We learn that Castro suspended elections, but "he did
improve wages, health care, and basic education." A student who knew nothing
about Castro other than what was in this textbook would have a one-sided
portrait.
Glencoe’s World History begins its chapter on modern-day Latin
America with an heroic account of the revolution led by the Castro brothers.
We learn that the two brothers received a 15-year jail sentence because of
their failed military attack in 1953, but were released after only 11
months. We do not learn that prison conditions under Castro are more squalid
than they were under dictator Batista or that Castro today metes out
lengthier sentences to writers, doctors, lawyers, economists, teachers,
peasants, and human rights activists than he received under Batista for
leading a military attack. We read of the Castro regime’s success in
providing free medical services and education to all, but we also see a
photo of an elderly black Cuban woman being carried ashore by a U.S. marine
in 1975. In this account, no reason is suggested why anyone would flee Cuba.
The entire story of the Cuban revolution is told in two short paragraphs in
Patterns of Interaction. Batista was unpopular, and he was corrupt,
and he was overthrown by a popular revolution led by Fidel Castro. The text
says: "At first, many people praised Castro for bringing reforms to Cuba and
improving the economy, literacy, health care, and conditions for women. Yet
Castro was a harsh dictator. He suspended elections, jailed or executed his
opponents, and strangled the press with tight government controls." That’s
the whole story. According to the text, he achieved great things, he did
some bad things. Based on this scanty text (which does not note that any
economic improvements were a result of decades of Soviet subsidy, not
Castro’s economic "achievements"), students might conclude that dictators
deliver impressive social gains, despite some errant abuses. The text does
not give enough information, however, to evaluate the evidence or debate the
question.
People & Nations gives a page to the Cuban Revolution, in which it
balances the good works of Castro (a literacy rate that was "the highest in
Latin America") against censorship and suppression of dissent. The text
suggests that Castro was popular among the poor, but lost the support of
intellectuals and of the middle- and upper-classes. The implication is that
Castro’s worst crime was to stifle differences of opinion, rather than the
kinds of crimes against individuals (spying on personal behavior, torture,
summary trials, and executions, etc.) that are associated with a police
state. The most remarkable statement in this text is about the Mariel exodus
of 1980: "When the Castro government realized how many dissidents, or people
who disagreed with the government, were among its citizens, it allowed
anyone to emigrate, as long as he or she informed the authorities." This
wrongly suggests that anyone who wanted to leave Cuba needed only to ask for
permission from the proper authorities and it would have been graciously
granted.
China
The current world history texts do not call Mao a dictator, despite his
leadership of a totalitarian regime in China that was directly responsible
for the deaths of tens of millions of Chinese. They readily acknowledge that
Hitler practiced religious and ethnic genocide, but do not explain that Mao
practiced class genocide. Glencoe’s World History, for example,
contains simple one-paragraph thumbnail sketches of Mussolini, Stalin, and
Mao. Mussolini, it says, was the "Italian dictator"; Stalin was the "Soviet
dictator." But Mao is referred to as the "Chinese leader." The same book
describes Chiang Kai-shek as a "Chinese general" who established a
"dictatorship" in Taiwan but does not attach the same opprobrious label to
Mao’s rule.
In most of today’s texts, Mao and his Communist troops receive what
sometimes seems to be adulatory treatment. Most textbooks describe the Red
Army’s "Long March" in glowing terms. McDougal Littell’s Patterns of
Interaction describes the flight of Mao and his troops with breathless
admiration. The fleeing Communists "crossed many rivers and climbed over
mountain ranges. They fought several major battles and faced minor
skirmishes almost every day. They also crossed miles of swampland. They had
to sleep sitting up, leaning back-to-back in pairs, to keep from sinking
into the mud and drowning."
Glencoe’s The Human Experience quotes a romantic first-person account
of the Long March: "If it was a black night and the enemy far away, we made
torches from pine branches or frayed bamboo, and then it was truly
beautiful. At the foot of a mountain, we could look up and see a long column
of lights coiling like a fiery dragon up the mountainside. From the summit
we could look in both directions and see miles of torches moving forward
like a wave of fire. A rosy glow hung over the whole route of the march."
Glencoe’s World History also contains a quotation from a survivor of
the Long March, praising the endurance of the Red Army; students are asked
to "Describe the difficulties Mao Zedong’s forces had to overcome to reach
safety in North China." The text invites students to consider what would
have happened if Mao--described by the text as China’s "greatest
leader"--had died on the Long March, if he "had not survived this ordeal."
One would think that the nonsurvival of a tyrant would not be such a
terrible thing to contemplate. One guesses, however, that this is not the
answer the text envisions. As a matter of fact, the students have not been
offered enough information to debate the "what if" question. Nor does the
text suggest the possibility that with a humane, democratic leadership,
perhaps China might have been spared decades of totalitarianism, mass
murders, indoctrination, and government-created famine.
Connections calls the Long March "an epic retreat" that is a "symbol
of heroism" to those who opposed the Kuomintang. It notes that the Red Army
imposed "strict discipline" and required its soldiers to follow three rules:
"Obey orders, ‘do not take a single needle or a piece of thread from the
people,’ and turn in everything you capture." This background is used to
explain that the Red Army was welcomed by the peasants, a view repeated in
most textbooks. In contrast to other texts, Continuity and Change
writes critically about China under Mao, eschewing romantic images about the
Long March and collectivization.
What the textbooks neglect to explain, except for brief mentions, is how Mao
crushed opposition in his "anti-rightist" campaign; purged scientists and
intellectuals; murdered landlords and land-owning peasants; imposed a
disastrous collectivization of agriculture (known as the "Great Leap
Forward") that created a famine in which tens of millions of Chinese starved
to death; imposed a harebrained scheme of backyard furnaces that diverted
agricultural workers from the fields, thus worsening the famine; and
launched the Cultural Revolution, which caused millions of teachers and
professionals to be hounded as "enemies of the people."
According to the respected Black Book of Communism, some six to 10
million people were killed by Mao’s forces; another 20 million
counter-revolutionaries died in prison; 20 to 43 million died between 1959
and 1961 because of the Great Leap Forward. This was one of the most
disastrous regimes in human history; why should our children read about
their military exploits with a sense of admiration for their courage and
daring? Why do they not read about the hypocrisy of Communist leaders who
preached asceticism, but lived in luxury or about the individuals and
families whose lives were destroyed by men who held unchecked power?
Teachers will have to look beyond the textbooks if they want their students
to understand the reign of this fascinating and powerful dictator.
Islamism
World history textbooks become tongue-tied when the subject is the rise of
militant, fundamentalist Islam. None of them explains why and how Islamic
civilization declined from the heights of intellectual leadership in the
middle ages to its current state of economic and cultural underdevelopment.
Why now the turn to fundamentalism?
Connections maintains that various Muslim nations turned to the
Qur’an and Sharia law because Westernization had failed to improve life for
many people and so they became disillusioned. This is a perfect example of a
textbook interpretation that explains very little. The text does not tell
readers that Westernization would mean such practices as separation of
church and state, public education, democratic institutions, and equal
rights for women, which were not widely adopted by Muslim nations. The text
says that many Muslim leaders concluded that "a renewed commitment to Islam
was the only way out of their current problems." Now, it was true that many
leaders said this, but the text does not offer any examples of theocratic
states that had actually solved modern economic and political problems by
returning to fundamentalist religious principles. The text is careful not to
take sides between the "Western model" of secular democracy and the
fundamentalists’ call for a return to Sharia law and economics.
Were the Islamists right? Was Westernization really tried in all these
nations that are now apparently disillusioned with it? Does the Qur’an hold
the key to current economic and political problems? Can a modern economy
function effectively on the basis of a seventh-century religious text? The
textbook offers no judgment and few facts that would allow students to form
their own judgments; it just says, in a characteristically encyclopedic
tone, that "many devout Muslims...urged political restructuring to put power
in the hands of religious leaders." It is left to the imagination of the
reader to figure out whether a theocratic government might be more
successful in solving the problems of Muslim societies today than the
Western model of secularism and liberalism.
Some basic facts about life in theocratic Muslim nations would help students
in thinking through the merits of the separation of church and state. Take
Saudi Arabia for example, a nation ruled by a king who adheres to a strict
interpretation of Sharia law called Wahhabi. According to Freedom House,
Saudi Arabia is one of the nine most repressive regimes in the world today.
Not only are church and state united, there is also no separation of powers
among the executive and judicial branches of government--and there is no
legislative branch at all. The king has the power to appoint (and remove)
judges, no political parties are allowed, and no elections are held at any
level of government. The government (controlled by the royal family) censors
the press, fires editors, and prohibits foreign journalists from entering
the country. The people may not form unions, hold demonstrations, or
publicly express non-Islamic religious beliefs. Worse still, citizens are
arbitrarily arrested and held for long periods of time without trials.
Women, no matter what their age, never gain autonomy; responsibility for
them is passed from one male relative to the next as they move through
life’s stages. They cannot drive, enter men’s stores or restaurants, or
study engineering, journalism, or law. Under Sharia law, they may be given
in marriage as young as age nine.
Very few of these facts appear in today’s world history textbooks.
Patterns of Interaction says that Ibn Saud, who founded Saudi Arabia in
1932, "carried on Arab and Islamic traditions. Loyalty to the Saudi
government was based on custom, religion, and family ties. Alcoholic drinks
were illegal. Like Kemal and Reza Shah [the modernizers of Turkey and Iran],
Ibn Saud brought some modern technology, such as telephones and radios, to
his country. However, modernization in Saudi Arabia was limited to
religiously acceptable areas." Consider how amazingly understated that last
sentence is!
The textbooks are especially perplexed when they must explain the position
of women in contemporary Islamic states. They prefer to put a positive spin
on other societies, to accept whatever their practices may be without
criticism.
People & Nations addresses the problem of women’s rights by diving
for the cover of cultural diversity, saying that, "The concept of human
rights does not have a single, universal meaning. Different cultures have
different perspectives." Here comes the familiar textbook dodge of putting
words into the mouths of "many people say....." In this case, says the text,
many people "criticize Western nations for trying to impose their ideals and
values on other nations." The case in point is the issue of women’s rights,
which "has different meanings in different societies. In the Islamic world,
for instance, women’s rights are viewed within the concept of the Qur’an,
the holy book of Islam." So all nations (and the readers of the textbook)
"must try to understand cultures and values that are different from their
own." Since the textbook never describes the differences between the rights
of men and women in an Islamic nation, it is impossible for a student to try
to understand them or for the class to discuss whether women should have
equal rights only in Western societies.
Connections tries to carry out a political balancing act that ends up
confusing rather than enlightening. It begins by noting that women in most
Middle Eastern nations have made great strides in the past half century.
Many urban Muslim women in some nations, the text says, have given up
wearing the hejab, that is, covering their head and body; but some
countries, like Saudi Arabia and Iran, oppose Western secular influences,
which, translated from textbook-speak, means that women in those countries
are compelled by law to wear the hejab. Then follows a lively
paragraph to demonstrate that some educated women want to wear the hejab
to show their sincere loyalty to Muslim values. To make things even more
confusing, the book asserts both that Sharia law allows women to play
"important economic roles" while at the same time, it is interpreted by some
nations to forbid women from voting, working, or driving cars.
The reader gets a conflicting mélange of positive and negative assessments,
but no clear picture of the role of women in an Islamic society today.
Nowhere does the text suggest a critical view, for example, that Muslim
women should be free to wear the hejab or not wear the hejab,
without legal compulsion either way. The textbook, deferring to cultural
diversity, is nonjudgmental.
Continuity and Change attempts to confront the issues with honesty,
but quickly backtracks into a posture of cultural relativism. It points out
that the Shah of Iran had abolished polygamy, child marriage, and death by
stoning for adultery, but the resurgence of Islamic fundamentalism “often
forced [women] to accept a return to the traditions of the past.” The
authors suggest that this was a step backward, especially for Westernized
women who were professionals. But the next paragraph insists that many women
“embraced” these religious traditions because they provided a “sense of
security and stability” and had “stood the test of time.” Furthermore, the
reversion to Islamic traditions (presumably like polygamy, being stoned to
death for adultery, and being required to cover their head) “became a symbol
of their pride in their Islamic heritage and their rejection of Western
values.” The book does not say which “Western value” was rejected, but
presumably it is the right of women to equal treatment in society.
Certainly there are women who voluntarily renounce any claim to equal
treatment and who choose to hide their face and to forego education. But
just as surely, there are women who do not wish to be subject to the whims
of the religious police and their male relatives.
One would expect a thoughtful discussion of the social and economic
consequences of denying equal rights to women. One would expect the books to
inform their readers that half the women in the Middle East are illiterate,
a point recently made by Arab intellectuals in a report for the United
Nations Human Development Fund. But this discussion does not occur in the
textbooks.
Africa
The textbooks become incoherent when the subject turns to modern-day African
nations. The compression problem becomes especially severe because the texts
do not have space to mention every African nation, and the history of even a
few nations cannot be adequately told in the text’s typical abbreviated
format. There is seldom enough detail to allow the reader to tell one nation
from another. Glencoe’s World History allots seven pages to the story
of modern Africa, but more than half of that limited space is devoted to
graphics. The text dispenses with Zimbabwe and Rwanda in three sentences:
"Conflicts also broke out among ethnic groups in Zimbabwe. In central
Africa, fighting between the Hutu and Tutsi created unstable governments in
both Burundi and Rwanda. In 1994, a Hutu rampage left some 500,000 Tutsi
dead in Rwanda." The terrible Rwandan genocide is thus dispatched in two
sentences. Can any student learn anything from such skimpy sentences? (For a
glimpse of the genocide, and the tyranny that made it possible, see article
Genocide in Rwanda.)
Connections is frank enough to acknowledge that the United Nations
failed to intervene during the Rwandan massacre (it claims one million
massacred, in contrast to the figure of half a million dead in most other
textbooks and 200,000 dead cited in People & Nations), but about the
only explanation for such slaughter is "ethnic conflict," which seems to be
a tautology (ethnic conflict causes ethnic conflict). The same textbook says
in a tight nine sentences that in Nigeria, military dictators cracked down
on critics, imposed censorship, and sometimes executed dissidents. In only
five sentences, this text tells readers that Mobutu Sese Seko created a
"brutal dictatorship" in Congo, and that he bilked the treasury of billions,
slaughtered rivals, and ran the economy into the ground." Two candid
sentences is all the editors can muster in their discussion of Robert
Mugabe’s dictatorship in Zimbabwe. When they describe his one-man rule of
the past 20 years, they say, "He called for a one-party system to promote
national unity and tolerated little opposition. In 2000, tensions over land
ownership led to renewed violence." Perhaps with more space, they might have
explained that Mugabe in recent years has jailed his opponents, muzzled the
press, expelled white farmers and given their land to his cronies, destroyed
the nation’s agricultural economy, and plunged Zimbabwe into a famine that
threatens the lives of millions of Zimbabweans.
Unlike most of the other world history texts, Patterns of Interaction
attempts to focus on the importance of achieving democratic institutions. It
doesn’t attempt to provide the usual thumbnail sketch of a variety of
African nations; instead, it gives short (very short, two-page) histories of
contemporary Nigeria and South Africa, with particular attention to the
struggle for democracy. The text rightly shows how colonial powers distorted
the economies of their colonies, disrupted family and community life, and
failed to develop good education systems, all of which reduced the prospects
for democratic stability. Although it does not mention the misrule of
dictators such as Mugabe and Idi Amin, it does provide a reasonable context
for understanding the political and economic problems of former colonies.
Continuity and Change devotes only five pages of text to "Independent
Africa." That is far too little to provide a context for understanding the
political problems of the continent. The text refers generically to leaders
who "resorted to the same kind of autocratic methods used by earlier
colonial rulers," but provides meager information about those autocrats,
dictators, and tyrants. A one-paragraph summary of Rhodesia-Zimbabwe’s
history fails even to mention Mugabe. In its favor, this text, like others,
devotes more than the usual attention to South Africa (in this case, a
relatively generous four paragraphs), which is a great success story for
democracy in sub-Saharan Africa. Continuity and Change has an
editorial board of distinguished historians who surely know that it is not
possible to summarize the complex history of modern Africa in five pages.
The editors and authors of world history textbooks mean well. They earnestly
want students to know about the world and about other civilizations. But
sadly, the very format of the textbook defeats their purposes. The books
demonstrate the difficulty, if not the impossibility, of cramming a
reasonably interesting history of the entire world into a single volume,
even one that is usually about 1,000 pages. This difficulty becomes even
more pronounced when such a large proportion of the textbooks is devoted to
flashy graphics. Despite the visual glitter, the textbooks suffer from
terminal dullness. Their accounts never touch the wellsprings of emotion
that make a topic genuinely engaging to the reader. They skim across the
surface of events, summarizing factual tidbits and trends without regard to
whether there is a thread that makes a coherent story. There seldom is.
Stuff happens. The young person trying to see how the events connect to one
another, looking for an explanation that will help make sense of the world
today, will all too often be disappointed.
Sadly, the textbooks waste an opportunity to expose young minds to the
reality of life in tyrannical regimes and the valiant efforts to overthrow
them; to help them understand how such regimes come to be and how they
sustain themselves; and to instill in them a clear knowledge that such
inhumane regimes don’t belong only to the past, but are, in fact, a current
reality.
But of course the problem with the textbooks begins with the courses they’re
designed for: world history or world cultures courses. These courses, in
which students gallop through time and across the globe, usually in one or
two years (and rarely, three), are now seen by administrators and
curriculum-developers as a way to instill cultural pride and build the
self-esteem of students from diverse backgrounds. Based on this approach, it
is hard to exclude any region or nation since Americans come from every
continent and nation in the world. Thus, the necessity to "cover"
everything.
No nation can be left out, no civilization can be ignored, everything must
be "covered." That is a recipe for superficiality, and superficiality
guarantees loss of context, which is critical to student comprehension--and
lack of gripping details, which is necessary for high interest.
In short, the world cultures approach that now dominates the paradigm for
world history textbooks virtually assures that the books will be boring.
Students don’t learn when they are bored. They learn and remember when there
are great stories, vivid biographies, amazing anecdotes. Students would be
awed by the stories of life in apartheid South Africa, Mao’s China, Stalin’s
Soviet Union, Somoza’s Nicaragua, Idi Amin’s Uganda, or Saddam Hussein’s
Iraq. Students would understand and identify with fighters for freedom who
defied Ceausescu in Romania or Robert Mugabe in Zimbabwe. They could connect
with those who courageously built the Goddess of Democracy in Tiananmen
Square or demonstrated for freedom in Budapest, Warsaw, and Prague. In those
instances, and in many others, men and women put their lives at risk to
demand freedom and democracy. These are exciting and inspiring stories. Our
students should learn them.
Students learn when there is a coherent and well-written narrative rather
than a parade of disconnected factoids and assertions. Bowing to the gods of
coverage assures that students won’t remember what they were taught.
And there is a further price to be paid for using history courses to teach
ancestral pride. If that is the goal, it is extremely difficult to encourage
critical thinking. Critical thinking and ancestral pride do not really go
together well. Ancestral pride requires that we emphasize the good and
neglect the bad, but good history teaching demands honesty and accuracy, not
deference to the readers’ sensitivities.
The world history program cannot be--as it is now--just a meaningless,
forgettable tour through every civilization from ancient times to the
present. What our students need to understand is that human beings have
within them the capacity for unspeakable cruelty to one another. We have
ample examples in history--and at the present time--of people slaughtering
other people; almost any reason may be invoked as justification: race,
religion, ethnicity, culture, appearance. Whites killing whites; blacks
killing blacks; Mesoamericans killing other Mesoamericans; group against
group; brother against brother. There is a beast within us, one might say,
and it must be tamed by civilization. It can be tamed, as some dictators
have done, by compulsion, by fear, by brute force. And it can be tamed, as
democracies attempt to do, by building a stable institutional framework of
law, coupled with educational and religious organizations that teach the
rules of civilized behavior and the bedrock principles of a just society.
What students are not learning today from their world history courses are
the lessons of history. They are getting a superficial canoe ride across the
oceans of experience that many people and nations have accumulated. They are
racing across centuries, not sure why they are studying this or that
civilization other than to learn that people everywhere are creative and
have wonderful traditions. Maybe that is all they will remember when they
have forgotten which civilizations they studied.
We should aim higher. If our intention is to alert the younger generation to
what has been learned about humankind’s striving for a just and humane
society, if we hope to inspire in them a lifelong interest in studying about
other worlds, then what we are doing now is a failure. We must devise a far
better way to introduce them to studies of the world.
Diane Ravitch is research professor of education at New York
University and nonresident senior fellow at the Brookings Institution. A
leading education historian, she has written and edited many books including
Left Back: A Century of Battles Over School Reform and The American Reader:
Words That Moved a Nation. This article builds on the research she began
while writing her most recent book, The Language Police: How Pressure Groups
Restrict What Students Learn.
References
World History: People & Nations (Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 2000)
Argentina: 863-866; Cuba: 857-861; Islam: 917; Rwanda: 824.
Elisabeth Gaynor Ellis and Anthony Esler, World History: Connections To
Today (Prentice-Hall, 2001)
Nicaragua: 946-947; El Salvador, 948-949; Haiti: 949; China: 736-737,
862-867; Cuba: 940-941; Islam: 892-893; Africa: 811, 919, 921-924.
Roger B. Beck, et al., Modern World History: Patterns of Interaction
(McDougal Littell, 1999)
Nicaragua: 493; El Salvador: 493; China: 402-404, 482-485; Cuba: 492-493;
Saudi Arabia: 408; Nigeria: 537-538; South Africa: 538-540.
Mounir A. Farah and Andrea Berens Karls, World History: The Human Experience
(Glencoe, 2001)
Argentina: 990-991; Cuba: 972, 979, 982-984; China: 805-806, 901-905.
William Travis Hanes III, et al., World History: Continuity & Change (Holt,
Rinehart & Winston, 1999)
Cuba: 808-810, 814, 845; China: 673-675, 750-754; Iran: 790; Africa:
772-777, 791-796.
Jackson J. Spielvogel, World History (Glencoe/McGraw Hill, 2003)
Cuba: 900, 907-908; China: 795-797, 940-944; Mussolini: 760; Stalin: 761;
Mao: 797; Chiang Kai-shek: 797; Africa: 921-927.
* This review discusses: World History: People & Nations;
World History: Connections to Today; Modern World History: Patterns of
Interaction; World History: The Human Experience; World History: Continuity
& Change; and World History. The first five are among the most
widely used high school world history books, according to the American
Textbook Council's survey of 1999 and 2000 textbook adoptions by selected
states and large districts. The sixth is a brand new text, just entering the
market. See reference below for authors, publishers, editions, and page
citations.
Related Article:
Freedom's Opposite: Recommended Readings on
Totalitarianism and Tyranny

Articles may be
reproduced for noncommercial personal or educational use only; additional
permission is required for any other reprinting of the documents.

|