If there was ever any argument about this subject, it has surely
been brought to an end by the events of the last few months in the
former Yugoslavia. The world watched Serbs go to war for Kosovo,
an area of little intrinsic value but of supreme interest to their
nationality in historical terms. History -- the events of a half-millennium
ago -- mattered.
By the same token, NATO went to war against Belgrade for a combination
of historical reasons. Slobodan Milosevic was committing genocide
(again) and the world, sensitized by the Holocaust and remembering
Serb actions against Croats and Bosnians several years ago, could
not accept this. Western critics of the war argued, on the other
hand, that Kosovo could become another Vietnam - a trap out of which
nothing but body bags could come. In other words, history mattered
to both sides, though all too often politicians and commentators
applied its lessons with a rashness that historians usually hope
to avoid.
History matters to Canadians too. French Canadians cherish the
humiliations they suffered at the hands of the anglais, and Lucien
Bouchard has risen to prominence, in substantial part, because he
can embody the sense of outraged nationalism such humiliations produce
better than anyone else. Peter Lougheed, the long-time Alberta premier,
similarly made himself the spokesman for a province that cherished
its grievances against Central Canada. The past is important.
But not in our schools. There is scarcely a school system in Canada
that obliges its students to learn anything of world history, North
American history or European history. The key to understanding our
civic institutions, British history, has been eliminated from the
classroom because the British are seen as just another ethnic group
deserving no special attention.
Worse yet, astonishingly, four provinces have no compulsory Canadian
history course in their high schools. Others bury the past in a
mishmash of civics, pop sociology, and English as a Second Language,
eliminating anything that might offend students, parents and school
trustees in an attempt to produce an air-brushed past free of warts
(except for the officially approved historical sins that can be
used for present-day social engineering). In Ontario, until the
Tory government in 1999 announced a revised history curriculum,
the only compulsory history course was a Grade 10 offering on "Canada
in the Twentieth Century" that epitomized this type of history.
Just as civil servants put process ahead of policy, so have our
schools put process over learning. History is hard, and to master
the Canadian (or any other) past is difficult. But that is its great
virtue, of course. History requires thought, demands wide reading,
and almost forces those who study it to write. In an age of multiple
choice examinations, few other subjects in our schools any longer
demand thinking, reading, and writing. This makes history all the
more important.
As bad, the way the past is presently taught is hopelessly confused
in its aims. Facts are boring, dates are unimportant, and the past
is, by definition, another country for the present-minded, so why
bother? What matters, the education theorists say, is that students
should learn to read critically and to probe texts for the writers'
underlying biases. There is certainly utility in critical reading,
but whether one can discern bias without first knowing some hard
information is doubtful.
Whether society can function without common cultural capital is
also uncertain. For example, how can Canadian voters - and eighteen-year-olds
are voters - make rational political choices in the late 1990s without
understanding such terms as "British North America Act", "Constitution
Act", "Charter of Rights and Freedoms", "provincial powers", and
"Social Union"?
History has a social utility in a nation like ours. Canada is
a magnet for millions from all over the world. People choose to
immigrate here because this is a land of opportunity, a nation with
Western values, ideals, and a past that is attractive. Integrating
the children of immigrants from Russia, Bolivia, Hong Kong, Somalia,
and Albania into our society ought to be an overriding object of
Canadian policy. The values and traditions of Canadian life should
be force-fed to them; history explained in ways that demonstrate
how and why we have regularly settled our disputes without force,
how our political system has functioned, and why we have on many
occasions gone to war or joined alliances, not for aggressive reasons,
but to protect our democratic ideals. Those are the reasons immigrants
come here, after all.
But do we teach this past to our newcomers? Not a chance. Our
schools are value-free or, at least, value-neutral. Our system is
but one of many, and heaven forfend that we should pronounce Western
culture superior to any other. Moreover, lest our history upset
anyone, we ensure that anything offensive to any group or nation
is deleted. Instead, the history that is taught focuses on Canada's
many sins: Canadian racism, Canadian sexism, Canadian abuses of
human and civil rights -- these are all studied at length in a well-intentioned,
but misguided attempt to educate children about the need for tolerance.
Tolerance, yes, of course. But what does an approach to the past
that concentrates on our (relatively few) sins and all but neglects
our (relatively plentiful) virtues do to immigrant children, who
must wonder into what kind of monstrous society their parents have
plunged them? What does such an approach tell the native-born about
their homeland? Somehow in our efforts to be "unbiased" and fair
to all, we have distorted our past into one full of sin and error.
Yes, in the past some Canadians have been racist, sexist, and
abused governmental powers. Some still do. But that is not the whole
of the Canadian past, or of our present. Although one could not
tell from the way our history is taught, somehow this country became
the most favoured nation on earth.
Our teaching of the past, however, focuses on victimology, and
Lord knows, we Canadians are all victims: All women have suffered
at the hands of men, all aboriginals who attended residential schools
were abused, as were all those unfortunates who went to parochial
schools, especially those operated by the Christian Brothers. Sometimes
these tales are accurate, but only sometimes. Not everyone was or
is a victim, despite the clamorous legal claims of the present.
History matters. The way it is taught -- or not taught -- has shaped
a tuned-out generation that can use a computer and surf the Net, but
that knows almost nothing about anything of importance, except that
anything important must be inexpressibly boring. Kosovo? Immaterial.
Social Union? Incomprehensible. The future? Unknowable, but surely
bleak.