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February 01, 2005
The Trials of Ward Churchill
It would seem that Hamilton College has cracked under the pressure and rescinded Ward Churchill's invitation to speak. (See as well an Inside Higher Education article on the subject.) Churchill has, of late, become a rather controversial figure. It seems that a previously obscure essay of his regarding 9/11 attack has recently attracted allot more attention. In it, he apparently effectively endorses the attack, and castigates the victims (though he seems to back away from that interpretation in a statement he has just released). The basic upshot of the essay seems to be along the lines of the familiar old "chickens coming home to roost" justification for actions like the 9/11 attack. From what I have seen of it, the manuscript thus basically represents the zillionth reheating of some fuzzy warmed-over radical leftist foreign policy ideas.
Let me acknowledge the following:
1. By the looks of his writings (I took a cursory but hopefully representative sample) I'm not sure why allot of what Mr. Churchill does counts as scholarship in any sort of rigorous sense. Indeed, his 9/11 essay appears to fit in nicely with much of his larger body of work: it would seem to be a silly rant, in the great tradition of angry letters to the editor, rather than any attempt at real research designed to expand the public's knowledge base.
2. Viz the essay that set off this ruckus, I think that, in the end, the attempts of Mr. Churchill and others (including Dr. Martin Luther King, who he quotes in his statement on the controversy) to equate all violence and hence label the United States as the greatest (and hence, implicitly, worst) source of violence on earth in the end requires a strange sort of moral obtuseness. Is al Queda's violence against us as legitimate as ours againts them? Can 9/11 be justified by such logic? Are we to suggest that the violence directed at the destruction of Nazi Germany was somehow morally indistinguishable from the violence committed by Nazi Germany to further its goals? By extension, are we to suggest that the violence that the US Army directed at the Waffen SS was morally indistinguishable from that directed at the Lakota Sioux? Is Israel no more and no less justified in its use of violence to kill someone like Sheikh Yassin than it is in some random military operation that kills scores of Palestinian civilians (and could have been expected to do so from the outset)? No, the purposes of violence are an important consideration, and that is what makes arguments like Mr. Churchill's so insidious and dangerous. To be sure, the United States of America is a human institution, and its foreign policy is a human process. As such, it is messy. I would argue that it has a larger, unifying purpose that can and should benefit mankind (the spread of an economically liberal and demcoratic political culture). Often, I will grant you, that larger purpose becomes obscured in execution by mistakes and human weakness. But history is likely to judge us by that larger picture. The central tendency will be remembered; history will assign less weight to the white noise deviations from it.
People today are likely to recognize the cultural, legal, technological, political, social, etc. contributions of Rome to this thing we refer to as the Western cultural experience. They rarely remember or perhaps do not believe there is much to be gained from focusing on the messier details (such as the avarice, brutality and stupidity that led to things like Bouiddica's revolt). These events were tragic for those who experienced them, but they had little or no enduring meaning compared with the central legacies of Rome for the Western experience. Above all, we remember Rome for sparking the idea of a larger European identity (as opposed to a disparate collection of mutually hostile and culturally incompatible tribes), even if that idea is only now coming to fruition.
This is the forest that I believe that people like Mr. Churchill are, in a long term but important sense, missing. (Though Mr. Churchill can be forgiven some of this blindness: his people were on the business end of one of the less than shining moments in the American experiment.)
So, clearly I don't really care for Mr. Churchill professionally and believe that his incessant song rings morally hollow. Having said that, let me forcefully suggest the following: Hamilton's decision to rescind his invitation represents a terrible betrayal of all of the cherished principals that a university should be the first to defend. They offered him, as a scholar, a speaking engagement. In the face of a public outcry that has extended to threats, they are now in retreat, allowing the angry screams of a mob to suppress the free exchange of ideas.
Some may be quick to point out a possible contradiction in my position: if I do not think very much of Mr. Churchill's scholarship, then how can I fault Hamilton for a failure to defend the free exchange of ideas among scholars? First, my opinion is just that: my opinion. There are plenty of people in academics who would take vigorous exception to my skepticism about the value of Mr. Churchill's work. My own estimation of Mr. Churchill's work cannot be the only thing that guides my position as part of the community of scholars. Second, even if I am correct about Mr. Churchill, the place and time for some kind of reckoning on that point is not here and not now. Any attempt to challenge Mr. Churchill's credentials as a scholar (and hence call into question the extent of a university's obligation to support his right to give his talk in the context of defending the exchange of scholarly ideas) must wait: it is imperative that we, the community of scholars, not be seen to be giving in to a mob. This position is akin to my unyielding view of terrorism: even if you believe that some policy error may be contributing to the terrorism, you cannot right that wrong while under the immediate and direct threat of the terror, lest you be seen to give into it. Third, scholars aren't the only people whose speech represents an important public good that must be defended. For that reason, I would be making this argument even if Mr. Churchill were some activist with no scholarly pretentions.
Hamilton college has been threatened with violence, but so what of it? We are committed to the free exchange of ideas...unless someone threatens us? Was our commitment to the free exchange of ideas simply a cloistered value, in the sense of Milton?
Hamilton should stand its ground, even at the risk of violence. On Sunday millions of Iraqis showed far greater courage than the administrators of Hamilton college, and in the face of what I would argue was a far more significant threat. Maybe they should be in charge of Hamilton: they are apparently willing to show real guts in the defense of certain cherished principals.
First Larry Summers writes that squirmy apology in the face of political pressure, and now this hasty retreat by the powers that be at Hamilton. Is there a goddam person in authority left in academics willing to show some courage in the face of an attack on the free exchange of ideas?
Note: Yes, I am aware that I constantly spell 'alot' wrong.
Posted by dag at February 1, 2005 04:26 PM