Martin Roberts (Ed.), After the Wall: History Teaching in Europe Since 1989, Hamburg Korber-Stiftung, 2004
[€ 12 – ISBN: 3-89684-021-5]

Roger Spalding
Edge Hill College

1. This is a work that promises much more than it delivers. One might have expected, given the title, a detailed analysis of how history teaching in European schools has been ideologically re-shaped as a consequence of the collapse of the Eastern bloc. Instead of that what one gets is a succession of very short contributions (41 in a book of 345 pages) that simply describe legislative developments in a variety of countries, some of which were part of the former Soviet bloc, and some which were not. In the case of the latter the choice of 1989 as a starting point seems to be entirely arbitrary as very little attempt is made to relate change to the collapse of the Stalinist states.

2. One of the better contributions is that by Robert Phillips, ‘Reflections on history, nationhood and schooling’. This does, at least critically engage with the idea that the teaching of history can be used to promote a sense of national identity, and indeed, ultimately rejects this notion. This is crucially important because what we, as historians, should be concerned to foster is the ability to debate, discuss and contest the interpretations of historical events. This in turn develops the skills of citizenship, skills that enable those who have them to participate in an informed way in the political process. Phillips’ piece, though, is preceded by a contribution by Nicholas Tate, revisiting ideas that he first aired in 1995 as chief executive of the English, School Curriculum and Assessment Authority. Tate’s big idea is that History should be used to promote a sense of national identity. In 1995 he attracted considerable ridicule, in the liberal British press at least, for suggesting that this might be done by highlighting the role of ‘heroes’ like Alfred the Great, Lord Nelson, David Livingstone and Florence Nightingale, in school history lessons. In his contribution to this book he favours a three-pronged strategy: the framing of a predominantly British History curriculum, the promotion of the English language, and the teaching of ‘the Judaeo-Christian roots of our shared values’. To some, in particular those of Muslim background, now a considerable minority in the UK this might seem like cultural imperialism. To others it might seem like an expression of Tate’s personal preferences and prejudices. This latter view is reinforced by the fashion in which he constructs his argument. At one point he states:

Globalisation’ has also accentuated the cosmopolitan disdain for the particularisms of their own societies that was already common among intellectuals of a certain kind, although this may be more of a problem in England where a strain of self-loathing, very apparent in the life of Anthony Blunt, has been a feature of intellectual life since the First World War.

First of all what does the expression ‘intellectuals of a certain kind’ mean? Given the reference to Anthony Blunt it seems likely that Tate is talking about people on the political left. However, for whatever reason, he has declined to say so, and opted instead for this nudge and wink formulation that is an invitation to share in his prejudices on this score. As to Blunt’s ‘self-loathing’ Tate is probably referring here to the fact that Blunt, an establishment figure, related to the British Royal family, became a Communist in the 1930s, and spent much of the 1940s spying for the Soviet Union. He did not do this because he loathed himself, but because he loathed a British state, which did not make any real attempt to deal with unemployment in the depressed industrial districts, and which bent over backwards to meet the demands of the European fascists during the 1930s. This one example, alone indicates the kind of national curriculum that Dr. Tate would promote.

3. Rolf Brutting’s piece, ‘History in school and national identity in reunified Germany’ also has significant flaws. It is, firstly, only six pages long, and is the only contribution dealing with Germany, which is extraordinary given the pivotal role of that country in Europe in the 20th century. At the beginning of his chapter Brutting cites the expression Vergangenheitsbewaltigung, which he translates as ‘coming to terms with the past’. Germany has, perhaps, more ‘past’ than many European states to come to terms with. Brutting, though, focuses on one issue, that is how Germany will deal with the history of the GDR (East Germany) and effectively incorporate it into a unified whole. This is to be brought about, he claims, by the history of day-to-day life and the history of culture ‘linking micro and macro history’, which will encourage ‘the union of our nation’. This is an extremely idealistic formulation, suggesting that changes in academic practice will, in some unspecified way, alter a political and social context. One wonders how this perspective will run with those who are unemployed because of the closure of obsolete factories in the former GDR. One suspects they might hope for rather more concrete solutions for their plight.
One aspect of Vergangenheitsbewaltigung that Brutting does not consider is that to do with the Nazi past. This is particularly significant given that, since the fall of the Berlin Wall, there has been something of a resurgence of far-right political activity in Germany. This development is not simply confined to the streets either. In 2000, the political historian, Ernst Nolte received the Konrad Adenauer prize for his academic achievements. Nolte had, prior to this acknowledgement, achieved widespread notoriety for his attempt, as many saw it, to diminish the significance of German actions in the Nazi period by relating them to Soviet actions. This award provoked the following response from the American historian, Charles Maier:

The award of the prize to Nolte was a clear political statement intended to promote the view that there is no particular stigma to Nazism in the light of what some Germans now call the 'Red Holocaust' in the Soviet Union. It's exculpatory in the German context. It's also really scandalous (The New York Times, 21st June, 2000).

The question of how 21st century Germans relate to their Nazi past remains, therefore a live issue and one that must have a major impact on German national identity. It is, therefore rather strange that Brutting makes no mention of it at all.

4. Many, if not quite all of the other contributions are short, general narrative accounts that lack detail and are usually not placed within a wider context. To illustrate these points a few examples will be considered. The piece that deals with syllabus change in Albania is only three pages long. Albania was the most isolated and obscurantist Marxist-Leninist regime in Europe. The opening of the country to the wider western world must have generated fundamental changes in its society, changes that must surely require more than this paltry space to discuss adequately. What the author says can be summed up very simply: under communism the History syllabus was dominated by the ideology of Marxist-Leninism. That is no longer the case now that History is more objective, and therefore better. This last point also underlines the ideological simplicity of many of these chapters, which operate within a dichotomy of ideology versus ‘objectivity’. There is no sense here that the opening of Eastern Europe largely involved one ideology being replaced by another. The same simplicity characterises the contribution on Slovenia. There the author argues that in the post-communist period the authorities purged ideology from the schools’ history curriculum. However, on the same page the author states that History has a special role in the development of national identity. What this implies, of course, is that there is one single, uncontested national identity, for the Slovenian people. This seems highly unlikely. Even in a small country like England there are enormous difference of opinion about the elements of national identity between northerners and southerners, East Anglians and the Cornish of the far south-west, to mention only four regional groups out of many. This is without taking into account other divisive factors like religion, social class and political affiliations. Those movements and/or governments that promote the notion of a single national identity are themselves promoting an ideological construct, based on their own particular priorities.

5. The vast majority of the contributions simply outline the process of legislative change, with limited comment, analysis or contextual detail. Vera Kaplan’s chapter, ‘State policy and the teaching of history in post-Soviet Russia: Coming full circle?’, details how the Russian state began re-asserting its control over history teaching. Despite giving a detailed chronological account of this process, Kaplan does not, though, relate this change to changed political priorities within the Russian state, consequently, in effect, the change that is outlined is not really explained. This, of course, is extremely frustrating for the reader, but this frustration is compounded by the fact that footnoted references are not used in any of the contributions in this book. It is, thus, in many cases impossible to check the sources used by the authors and, given the wide variety of nationalities involved in this project, this means that readers will have no real option but to take the accounts on trust, which at best is bad academic practice, and, at worst could mean that they are badly misinformed.

6. Despite the weaknesses outlined above, the book does deal with a crucial issue: that of the role of History teaching within European schools. Most of the contributions uncritically accept the notion that using history to promote a sense of national identity is a good thing. Given the periodic ‘horror stories’ carried in the press about the failure of schools to teach core subjects like mathematics, science, history, and, in the UK at least languages, one wonders why educationalists believe that they will have more success with national identity. Also the whole project is based on a misapprehension; the awareness of national identity cannot be taught, it is the product of events. The political unification of Germany in the 19th century did more to promote a sense of national identity than anything that went on in the classroom. Nineteenth century German education was no doubt nationalistic in character, but it was following political developments, not shaping them. Finally, any notion of national identity that is taught in schools must by its very nature be externally defined and tend towards uniformity. In January 2006, the British Chancellor of the Exchequer argued that the British government should promote a sense of national identity, and by implication, lamented the fact that every British home does not fly the national flag, as, he claimed, is the case in the USA. What an appalling picture of uniformity. The strength of any democratic society lies in the fact that its citizens do not have to express their identity in ways promoted by the state. In Europe, at least, we should know where such centrally defined notion of the nation, can lead.

7. A minority of the contributors, including Bernard Phan, in his piece ‘Teaching History and Citizenship in France’, argue that History can promote citizenship, by developing the critical faculties of pupils, in such a way as to equip them to participate, actively, in the decision-making processes of their societies. He also argues that such critical abilities will enable pupils to see that at times they have to criticise their own countries. This is a crucial ability for a mature, democratic citizenry; it is one that schemes to promote positive national identities are not likely to develop. This then is the central issue, which the book however inadequately addresses, and it points to what is likely to be a protracted debate within history teaching. A debate that will be of central importance in a Europe increasingly made up of minorities attempting with varying degrees of success to accommodate to their host communities. The English writer, G. K. Chesterton once said: ‘To say my country right or wrong, is like saying my mother, drunk or sober’. I fear that many of the writers in this volume are veering towards intoxication