3: Historical Postmodernism

3: Historical Postmodernism

3

Historical Postmodernism

After an initial retrenchment of a somewhat chastened objectivism among historians in the aftermath of World War II, the decades straddling the turn of the twentieth century witnessed an increasingly fragmented field of study. Scholars across various disciplines, including a number of historians, were progressively affected by a potpourri of newly emergent ideas that tended to be more diverse or radical in nature.

Novick remarks that some left-oriented thinkers in the 1960s began to pursue dissimilar interests, resulting in the discipline of history becoming rather splintered among various groups that wished to single out their own special niche in the past. Particularly, he singles out moves to explore Black American history beginning in the 1970s and women’s issues, including feminism, a little later.1

Though not immediately apparent, this fracturing of interests in the historical discipline tended to work against historians who attempted to piece together a unified body of knowledge. However, the “ideological disarray replaced the consensus on which ideas of objectivity had always depended so heavily.”2 Scholars were working at cross-purposes, and this warred against the notion of a single outlook on the past.3 Novick even goes as far as to assert that, by the 1980s, the discipline of history was fractured and “ceased to exist”! At that time, “convergence on anything, let alone a subject as highly charged as ‘the objectivity question’ was out of the question.”4

To be sure, there were many differing shades of meaning to these views. Some of these scholars were clearly still within mainline historical demarcations even while exhibiting some new types of awareness. However, others favored certain philosophical trends that favored pragmatic interests that promoted aspects of nonobjectivity. These concerns sometimes questioned the limits of knowledge, even challenging the extent to which research could produce knowable data. Some pushed even further away from the Enlightenment’s “modernist” ideals of objective data across many interdisciplinary lines. These various species of thinking have come to be generally categorized under the heading of postmodernism.

One example of this latter thinking can be found in the work of philosopher of science Thomas Kuhn’s theses and others like it, which had profound effects on the prevailing mindset. Kuhn argued that academicians usually conducted their research in such ways that fit within the parameters of their own worldviews, if not actually affirming them. Hence, data were interpreted within their familiar paradigms. Further, when changes in thinking did come about, these paradigm shifts frequently happened for reasons other than the emergence of new discoveries or facts. Rather, in spite of being unable to fully address contrary information satisfactorily, researchers typically kept holding views with which they were more comfortable. Only when the evidence was great enough to virtually overpower the older paradigm did a shift in conceptual thinking begin to occur.5

Particular historical developments within this movement emerged from more than one corridor of thought. Outgrowths or extensions of some ideas such as Kuhn’s no doubt exercised some influence here, as did those of the earlier idealistic or relativistic historical interpreters mentioned above as well as additional trends altogether.6 But many of the ideas are commonly held and appreciated by both earlier idealists and these contemporary scholars.7

Though there has been some protest and further nuance, postmodernism has become the most popular term used to describe several trends of thought involving the more or less radical questioning of objective knowledge across different disciplines.8 As applied specifically to the discipline of history, it often centers around particular themes, such as viewing historical records merely as subjective linguistic exercises unlinked to reality and not unlike fictional narratives such as storytelling. Another popular angle treats interpretations of the past as being more related to political power plays used to manipulate and control people in the present.9

As might be guessed from the foregoing, postmodernism encompasses quite a wide-ranging set of views and attitudes, sometimes including unrelated or even contradictory ideas. Nuances of various sorts often lead to huge differences of outlook and action. Following some observers, Kelly helpfully differentiates between skeptical and affirmative postmodernists. The former often embrace pessimistic and fragmented assessments of the present, including even attitudes of despair and meaninglessness. The latter often agree generally with the societal critiques, but offer a more hopeful demeanor that emphasizes making more positive choices. Other thinkers differentiate between extreme postmodernists, who propose a more radical rupture between modernity and postmodernity, and moderate postmodernists, who usually champion more nuanced and less radical solutions along with more hopeful remedies. Kelly notes that such distinctions allow for a more judicious evaluation of the weightier postmodern ideas from their less valuable critiques.10

One of the most frequent charges made by postmodernist historians against older, more objectivist views of historiography is that since we cannot actually reenact, witness, or otherwise directly observe past occurrences, this was perhaps the prime indication that we cannot “prove” what really happened before our own times. Further, the necessary “cement” holding these events together, that is, the surrounding interpretations and narratives that tell the story and fit together all the occurrences,11 is usually criticized quite heavily as another form of fictitious exercise.12

In spite of these developments, however, even these postmodern or similarly minded scholars rarely if ever deny the knowledge of historical events themselves, at least in principle. For example, E. H. Carr’s early relativistic approach still emphasizes both good research into the relevant data as well as the interpretations given to these events. They must work together, for they are linked inextricably.13 It can be observed easily in his historical works, as with perhaps even the majority of these relativistic thinkers, that Carr’s own research reveals a certain “normal” level of trust in the discipline of historiography to be able to establish the facticity of past events.14

As far as the possibility of ascertaining at least separate historical occurrences from the past, postmodernists or skeptical scholars such as French historian and philosopher Michel Foucault certainly raised questions,15 but he also made a variety of positive comments regarding the possibility of research and the securing of historical data.16 His illustrations often made use of many historical events as well.17

Hayden White even asserts that he does not mean that “past events, persons, institutions, and processes never really existed. It does not imply that we cannot have more or less precise information about these past entities.” However, rather than generating any new information about the past, historical discourse only yields interpretations. This is perhaps where the chief elements of subjectivity emerge.18 In spite of some of the positive elements here, Novick remarks that professional historians were “outraged” at White’s blurring of the lines between history and fiction.19

Even Keith Jenkins does not deny that some things from the past can be known. He asserts, “Of course, I do not in this text deny the existence of the actuality of the past.” But there is more than only one evaluation of these events and such interpretations are not true per se. Actually, “a ‘true interpretation’ is a contradiction in terms.”20 So while events are one thing, interpretations are quite another as noted above. The facts themselves do not somehow magically yield their interpretations or the narratives concerning them. From a slightly different angle, significance or meaning are not somehow inherent within historical facts.21

Jenkins’s perspectives on these subjects are enough for him to judge that at least some of the more standard, traditional historical works, such as Geoffrey Elton’s The Practice of History22 and Carr’s What Is History?, are no longer good guides for what is transpiring in current historical debates. The reason for Jenkins is, we live in the world of postmodernity whether we like it or not, whereas Elton’s and Carr’s approaches are understandably oblivious to these later and now undeniable developments. But it is simply the way things are—we have no choice in the matter!23 The result, as he states elsewhere, amounts to this: “My argument is thus a sort of ‘end of history’ argument.”24

Once again, this does not mean that Jenkins denies the reality of historical events. As he affirms, complimenting Berkhofer, “Nobody is denying, of course, that the actual past occurred.” It is simply that what happened is inextricably intertwined with the explanatory narratives surrounding the events and their interpretations. It all seems so arbitrary that we can actually give the events any meaning that we choose!25 As philosopher Jean-François Lyotard states in the same volume, “Simplifying to the extreme, I define postmodern as incredulity toward metanarratives.”26

Actually, the majority of contemporary historians are presently realists, and this seems to have been the case throughout the entire growth of the critical philosophy of history movement in the nineteenth century. Most historians have rejected relativistic and postmodern historiographical approaches of various stripes and species. There is no shortage of comments affirming this either. Initially, the relativistic phase of historical interpretation that we have described above—from Dilthey through Croce, Collingwood, Beard, Becker, and a few others—only lasted approximately half a century and never really gained a lot of momentum. Moreover (as pointed out earlier and detailed further below), a synthesis emerged by the mid-twentieth century that incorporated the salient features of both objectivist and subjectivist positions while, overall, supporting a more traditional position.

Breisach notes some of these same ideas, asserting, “Progressive history’s relativist phase was brief and did not lead to a thorough epistemological debate in American historiography.” It was rarely even applied consistently.27 Dray adds in one of his more recent books on Collingwood, who was probably the most influential of the initial round of these relativistic historians, that, except for W. H. Walsh, there was a “dearth of critical discussion of his views” until later in the past century after his death.28 We have seen, too, Richard Evans’s assertion that by the mid-twentieth century, the “reassertion of historical objectivity” had returned.29

Even the response to the later and more numerous postmodern thinkers has been brisk and often detailed, as we will observe below in our critique. But here we will only note that the majority of professional historians and philosophers of history have rejected these major postmodern positions as well. However, Evans still explains why the postmodern challenge concerns him. Beyond the charges themselves (which we will evaluate), he is concerned regarding other issues that seem to be mentioned far less often: lessened grant opportunities, lower prestige in competitive academic circles in light of the fallout from those declaring that the discipline of history is dead, as well as the effect on potential students. Further, too many professional historians are failing to take seriously the raising of postmodern doubts and have been more complacent than they ought to be.30

While there has certainly been further movement that continued to recognize some subjective aspects of historiography, Breisach notes the difference between pointing out certain tough issues and throwing overboard much of the entire historical enterprise as the chief reason why historians have not been overly receptive.31 Gilderhus has noted that the debate has largely remained theoretical and has had little “impact on the actual writing of history.”32 Remarking similarly, Tosh has also argued that “there is a limit beyond which most historians will not go in embracing Postmodernism . . . few are prepared to join in a rejection of the truth claims of history as usually practised.” He then adds that the postmodern challenge “flies in the face of common experience.”33

Some scholars have utilized much stronger, harder-hitting language to question the new postmodern trends. Historian Nancy Partner reports stunningly, “It is my impression that the ‘linguistic turn’ was a revolving door and that everyone went around and around and got out exactly where they got in. For all the sophistication of the theory-saturated part of the profession, scholars in all the relevant disciplines that contribute to or depend on historical information carry on in all essential ways as though nothing had changed since Ranke, or Gibbon for that matter.”34 Partner goes on to state regarding this linguistic approach to philosophy of history that “the hectic phase of that attack on positivism, much of it mischievous and antic, seems to have played itself out. It has to be emphasized that nothing whatever was settled or decided, much less defined or disproven.”35

Commenting on Partner’s remarks like those above and noting that she is “undoubtedly correct,” philosopher Brian Fay appears to question the force and perhaps even the threat from the “linguistic turn” on historiography. He proclaims similarly, “Except for some interesting exceptions at the margins of the discipline, historical practice is pretty much the same in 1997 as it was in 1967: historians seek to describe accurately and to explain cogently how and why a certain event or situation occurred. . . . For all the talk of narrativism, presentism, postmodernism, and deconstruction, historians write pretty much the same way as they always have.”36

Could Partner and Fay be correct here? More seriously, could the postmodern time in the spotlight perhaps be drawing to a close, especially if these scholars are correct that these relativists have hardly affected the historical scene at all? Is it only a revolving door where very few ever change their positions? Perhaps worst of all, is Partner also correct that none of the traditional historical positions have been disproven?37

Is it even worse than this? If language is supposedly much of or even the most crucial component here, could the postmodern position itself amount chiefly to wordplay—possibly more like bluster and its own sort of power play? Is a fair amount of the postmodern historical challenge more “mischievous and antic,” as Partner states? What should be said about the sometimes high level of the invective, along with the dogmatic nature of the pronouncements?38

Licona argues further that “even some postmodern historians agree” with Partner’s and Fay’s critiques. Licona cites David Roberts’s comment that Breisach may be correct that postmodern trends have come and gone in the discipline of history.39

Jenkins also admits that postmodernist historians are in the minority. He states: “Protected by a continued adherence to common sense empiricism, and realist notions of representation and truth, most historians—and certainly most of those who might be termed ‘academic’ or professional ‘proper’ historians—have been resistant to that postmodernism which has affected so many of their colleagues in adjacent discourses.”40

Why does Jenkins seem to be displeased about the circumstances of this observation? It is common parlance among postmodernist historians to complain that the majority of those of their persuasion eschew philosophical discussion, such as metaphysics, epistemology, or metahistorical matters.41 It is almost as if they are somehow hinting that if their colleagues would only get out of their own small corners among the stacks of dusty books, facts, and dates, studying instead the philosophical underpinnings of their discipline, then they might perceive the “truth” of the postmodern position!

However, we have said above that many scholars in the prior round of debate came to the study of critical philosophy of history from the field of philosophy. Dilthey and Collingwood were among the philosophers who would probably have supported Jenkins’s complaint. But many others, among them some very noteworthy and influential thinkers, would not (or probably would not) have supported these chief postmodernist indictments of historiography. In this last group of opposing critical scholars belong major thinkers such as John Dewey, Isaiah Berlin, Ernest Nagel, William Dray, W. H. Walsh, Morton White, Hans Meyerhoff, and Christopher Blake, along with many others.42

It should be noted here most carefully that my point is absolutely not to argue that a head count or even one’s reputation is what solves this dispute. Rather, the assertion is that many more influential philosophers, each having published relevant works on these subjects, were more than willing to do precisely what Jenkins and White challenged philosophers of history to do, namely, to examine their philosophical foundations. However, this group of philosophers knows the issues and appears to be strongly convinced that it is the postmodernist historians who are seriously mistaken.43

The idea to emphasize here is that criticizing historians because many or even most of them do not engage in the more technical aspects of the philosophical discussion is an argumentative red herring—and it misses the mark by a wide margin. Many past and present-day philosophers of history are trained specifically in these areas, and they have found the relativistic responses to be lacking in a number of crucial areas.

Why have so many philosophers and historians in recent decades opted for some sort of a synthesis between discovering real historical facts even in spite of taking seriously the subjective limitations of historiography? Why did the older idealistic thinkers fail to embrace a fuller, more thoroughgoing relativism? Or why have the recent, more relativistic positions not really persuaded the majority of philosophical and historical philosophers of history?

There is little question for virtually all scholars that personal biases can and do distort data and affect one’s research, all the way from mild twists to what we have termed more egregious manipulation. There are many examples that could be chosen. Yet, it is also agreed that to hold that these subjective elements are so serious that they must undermine or even nullify the discovery of all historical conclusions is to stumble into a host of faulty conclusions, as we will document next. Philosophers and historians alike have noted numerous severe shortcomings with the more relativistic hypotheses. This is precisely why, at the end of the initial lengthy dialogue over these matters lasting over a century, the radical theses experienced both a bit of a comeback as well as “suffered a decline in status.”44

Historical Events and Analysis

We have seen that many idealist and relativist historians from approximately 1880 to the present have downplayed the objective element favored by the positivist and realist historians from Ranke onward, preferring to emphasize the more subjective roles involved in the process. The first round of discussions, up until perhaps 1950, contained much give-and-take, debate and rejoinder. Walsh enumerated four categories of subjective factors: the researcher’s personal inclinations, group biases, differing notions of historical interpretation, and worldview conflicts.45 Beard also produced a list of several similar influences, as did Gardiner.46

As expected, the realist historians countered with arguments of their own, and the exchange of ideas, both give and take, was quite insightful. Both sides moved steadily closer to the other in the process. For their part, the realists, or “objectivists,” largely came to recognize and admit many of the more subjective features of historiography.47 However, scholars like Nagel, Morton White, and even Walsh, as well as many others, continued to point out how and why much historical data could still be determined responsibly in spite of this bias.48

On the other hand, the idealists, or “relativists,” admitted that many historical particulars could still be ascertained from the available research.49 Actually, a number of such events, such as those indicated by archaeological artifacts, photography, and readings on various kinds of instruments, involved either a minimal amount of or even no human interaction at all.

Hence, the post–World War II synthesis described at the end of the previous chapter was the outcome of the earlier phase of the debate. But since that time, during the last two or three decades of the past century and into this one, the idealists have especially emphasized some different arguments, such as the role played by the interpretive and narrative aspects that tie together the historical reports. These have been regularly declared to be the more subjective elements and particularly get singled out as more biased, often being compared to, or even called, fiction. The realists, for their part, continued to maintain that historical events could still be deciphered from among the data when accompanied by careful research, evaluation, and critique, in spite of the biased angles in reporting.

Throughout the entire dialogue, from Ranke until the present, probably only a minority of professional historians have engaged in these more theoretical disputes in the philosophy of history. The majority of historians have continued to work in their own specializations, furthering the historical enterprise.

Since at least the middle of the twentieth century, then, most historians have preferred a synthesis of the realist and idealist outlooks. Present scholars generally pursue the likelihood of past events by utilizing the tools of historiographical research50 while still taking seriously their own limitations along with those of others, imposed on the research through various sorts of tinted glasses that color the world but of which we are commonly unaware. To a greater or lesser degree, while admitting these subjective influences, the majority of historians still conclude that we have at our disposal significant historical tools for researching the past and deciding what probably occurred in many circumstances.

There are numerous reasons why the majority of historians still opt for this synthesis between discovering true events of the past, in spite of having to do so probabilistically, and attempting to ascertain various subjective limitations. But White51 and Jenkins52 are most likely correct when they state that many historians are simply not interested in the pursuit of these philosophical matters.53

However, it is not merely personal preference alone that pushes many scholars in the direction of settling for probable conclusions regarding the historicity of particular events within their own specialized areas of research rather than participating in the debate over the pros and cons of these philosophical problems. The majority of scholars, who do not share these more overriding subjective concerns, additionally realize that those who do so often stumble regularly into a host of logical and factual errors. The result is that the idealistic attempt to nullify many historical conclusions may well be based on mistaken assumptions.

Recent philosophers and historians who tangle with these issues often agree in noting numerous, sometimes closely related, and overlapping problems with these idealist hypotheses, which accounts for the majority of academics refusing to take these perspectives.54 It is really intriguing, too, when the idealistic scholars themselves acknowledge these problems within their own methodologies. We will address five of these intersecting issues below, from across the spectrum up until the earlier, pre–World War II trends, as well as from the more recent postmodern developments.

Self-Contradiction

First, and quite devastating to any relativistic claims that take the position this far, the statement that all historical research is relative is itself quite contradictory. Philosopher Ernest Nagel argues that when such a claim is made regarding historical research, at least one nonrelative conclusion is obviously known, or the statement would be meaningless. But if it is known that all historical research is relative, why must we stop there? There may actually be even many additional nonrelative historical truths as well.55

Another philosopher, Christopher Blake, explains the criticism in slightly different terms: “Either Relativism is wrong or, if it is correct, then it is itself only a relative verdict.”56 At face value, then, we have a dilemma here: such comments require either that relativism be absolutely mistaken or, at best, that it is only relatively true!57

Speaking more specifically about the views of Jenkins, Kelly notes that the overall idealistic position has this same issue: the position “suffers from a major defect that threatens all relativistic and/or reductionistic views: if all history . . . is irreparably tainted by ideology, then so is Jenkins’ discourse about ideology.” As a result, these thinkers are simply “wasting our time.”58

Quite amazingly, even Charles Beard (frequently recognized as the “foremost spokesman” for historical relativism in the first half of the twentieth century)59 admits the force of this objection. Scarcely could the difficulty be stated any more strongly or forcefully than does Beard:

Contemporary criticism shows that the apostle of relativity is destined to be destroyed by the child of his own brain. If all historical conceptions are merely relative to passing events . . . then the conception of relativity is itself relative. When absolutes in history are rejected the absolutism of relativity is also rejected . . . the conception of relativity will also pass, as previous conceptions and interpretations of events have passed . . . the skeptic of relativity will disappear in due course . . . the apostle of relativity will surely be executed by his own logic.60

Licona lists a number of recent scholars, especially philosophers and historians, who raise the same or similar charges of the self-refuting nature of postmodern theorists and their ideas, making it a very common critique. These commentators include Richard Evans, Brian Fay, Perez Zagorin, Thomas Haskell, Scott McKnight, and Ben Meyer.61 Historian Tosh reminds us that postmodernism itself occupies a “historical context” whether it likes it or not. As such, postmodern approaches, “unless they have a firm anchorage in historical context, . . . amount to an imposition by the critic on the text.”62

So how might the idealist or postmodernist reply to the charge that their critique is self-contradictory? Spitzer states that the “standard response” is actually to embrace the criticism, “to affirm that historical relativism is itself historically relative”!63 We saw above that Beard did precisely that. In fact, Novick states, “The relativist critique, though powerful, was seriously flawed. Neither Becker nor Beard was a systematic thinker, and their formulations were often loose and inconsistent.” These two prominent skeptical historians even “cheerfully accepted” the philosopher’s charge of self-refutation!64

But if that is the case, it would seem that the idealist or postmodern historian would have to realize that they had just nullified their own critique! What force is there to the argument that historical truth is more or less nonexistent if the dispute in question is itself a meaningless charge? On what grounds, then, can the argument gain any traction whatsoever? Thus, the postmodern critique cannot thereby rule out historical research, or anything else for that matter, since it rules out itself in the process!

Another response might be that none of these historians is actually a thoroughgoing relativist anyway, at least not absolutely so, in the sense of denying all historical facts.65 We have agreed that such is probably the case, in that all of the most influential scholars we have discussed, from Dilthey, Croce, Collingwood, Beard, and Becker, up though Hayden White, Ankersmit, and even Jenkins, all allow for the historicity of at least individual facts.

But again, what proceeds from this response? It would appear to be the case here that since historical facts cannot be ruled out by a self-refuting argument, the most the idealist can do is endorse proceeding carefully in affirming well-established facts. But that is fine, and we will attempt to proceed in that manner in this volume anyway! Many if not most historians might agree this is what they are doing already. While the last comment could certainly be disputed in individual cases, the point is that this should bring us back to our careful work in the milieu of historiography rather than to the denial of history itself. So where is the force of the so-called postmodern revolution as it is related to the discipline of history? Is Kelly correct that, given the self-contradiction, we are merely wasting our time here?66

One of the major relativistic dilemmas amounts to something like this: deny all the facts, which apparently no major historian does (according to the critical comeback), and thereby commit the contradiction, as per Beard and many other scholars. A similar charge of contradiction would also apply to anyone who denies all the interpretation or narration of the historical facts as well. As Kelly retorts, “The postmodern claim that all metanarratives are to be rejected is, of course, itself a metanarrative.”67 So the claim is either itself false, or if it is true, then like Nagel in our example above, this opens the door for us to consider the possibility of other metanarratives also being true, including Christianity.68

Thus, either way we look at it, claims such as “there is no truth” or “there is no historical truth” are either false, in which case some (historical?) truth exists, or they are true, in which case at least these statements themselves express truth. In both cases, other examples of truth could also exist, including historical instances. This seems to be the direction in which Nagel, Blake, Tosh, Kelly, and even Beard himself are all heading here, in addition to the list of scholars mentioned by Licona.

In short, the initial critique of postmodern self-contradiction is a devastating one indeed. One may be as careful or even as skeptical as one likes, opting for various approaches, including more moderate, in-between methods with regard to which of the facts and interpretations may be accepted or recognized. But the data cannot all be denied, and this is willingly recognized by the specialists. In fact, this is the path chosen by virtually all historians, skeptical or otherwise. Even those who appear to deny the existence of historical facts will turn around and recognize data, as we have noticed here.

Therefore, some accept more data as historical, and some accept less. This is where probabilities also enter the picture. Within these parameters, some facts will be more strongly established than others, and the results will often contain both more as well as less sure results. However, the crucial point here is that we can still obtain knowable data even while being careful. At the very least, then, the bottom line is that historical cases can be built when this is done judiciously. This is one of the reasons why the minimal facts method is employed in this study, but more will be discussed on this topic later.

Logical Fallacy

Second, the charge that particular subjective biases must nullify or overcome normal historiographical procedures is a nonsequitur argument, thereby creating a fallacy of informal logic in the process. As philosopher Morton White asserts, “The mere fact that historians are biased is no argument against the existence of impersonal standards.” To hold that bias nullifies all historical knowledge is fallacious, perhaps analogous to declaring that a physician’s personal feelings on behalf of her patient’s sickness prevents her from making a proper diagnosis.69 Presumably, such feelings could potentially even increase the accuracy of the medical analysis, which would be good news for many of her patients!

Contemporary scholars have repeatedly made a similar critique. For example, philosopher Ernest Nagel concurs with White’s assessment and reasons similarly: “The bare fact that inquiry is selective [is] no valid ground for doubting the objectively warranted character of its conclusions.”70

However, postmodern historian Keith Jenkins argues that we cannot get from the ontological status of past events to any empirical connection in the present.71 But what, exactly, follows from this complaint? This is simply another form of non sequitur where the conclusion fails to follow or obtain. What connection is there between not presently being able to repeat, observe, or build some sort of bridge from the past and not knowing what happened in those bygone years? What sort of causal connection must we have between past occurrences and present knowledge?

In other words, we are arguing about the presence of probable data regarding the past, not whether the latter somehow has ontological status in the present. Exactly why does the postmodern historian despair without the ontological bridge? This did not bother past historians. Once the last eyewitnesses died out, we have always been on the same epistemic grounds. Is this supposed to be one of the best objections that postmodernism can offer?

Philosopher of history C. Behan McCullagh points out that we are not justified in jumping from conclusions like disagreements among historians or the incompleteness of our historical knowledge to the truth of skepticism. Rather, we should commit to good historical evidence. As he asserts, “We should be sceptical of descriptions which are not well supported, but accept as true those which are.”72

Chris Lorenz calls this general problem the “all-or-nothing” fallacy. If we cannot somehow “have it all” regarding the past, does that mean we actually get nothing whatsoever in the deal? If not some strict notion of historiography, is the only other option relativism? This sure appears wrongheaded.73 Historians have been dealing for a very long time in terms of likelihoods and probabilities. Why should this look so different?74

Skeptical biblical scholar James Tabor reminds us that “as long as we recognize our limitations of method and resist equating our own reconstructions with an absolute truth we can at least seek to approximate a standard of best evidence.”75 Good advice such as this will assist us in avoiding arguments that leap from shortcomings in our research, which is never perfect, to our inability to learn much of anything concerning the past in the manner of a non sequitur. We will point out below some specifics of avoiding this logical fallacy.

Inconsistency

A third indication of the inadequacy of the idealistic approaches is that these historians fail quite regularly to carry out the consequences of their own skepticism, as demanded by their own views, when they are writing history themselves. Anyone can be inconsistent at times, but relativists often seem much better at it than most other scholars, and it can be observed in their writings time and time again.

Perhaps one reason for the inconsistency is there would be very little history for them to write if their skeptical positions were both correct and evenly employed! Or, could it even be that their irregularities are due to their own lack of assurance regarding their position? Of course, other possibilities exist as well. Whatever the reasons, relativists often sidestep their own relativism and pursue the writing of the actual occurrences of history as if they had already forgotten that their product was inconsistent with what they had previously written!

Morton White criticizes Beard’s skeptical approach in that it did not affect Beard’s “own scientific work” on “the essence of history.”76 A major example is that Beard considered his own work on an economic understanding of the American Constitution to be “objective and factual.”77 Meyerhoff likewise recognized this problem, explaining that “Beard never reached a satisfactory middle ground” between the objective and subjective elements in his own historiography.78 Breisach agrees that “in fact, Beard never practiced his relativism consistently.”79 White goes after Beard’s position quite strongly and in much detail.80

This third critique does not only apply to Beard or to those scholars from the earlier, pre-World War II phase of idealistic thought.81 Other recent examples are not rare. Thomas Haskell criticizes Jean-François Lyotard, one of the most influential postmodernists, for criticizing realist historiography only to employ the same straightforward techniques when he resorts to historical representation. Haskell comments that Lyotard “puts his representational pants on pretty much the same way the rest of us do.” Nothing differentiates Lyotard’s technique from those realist accounts of the past that we hear regularly. Thus, while Lyotard opposes these realist methods, “he seems in the end, in practice, unable to escape it . . . he acts as if the past is real.”82

Perez Zagorin provides another instance. He reports, “Elizabeth Earmarth . . . makes many factual statements ostensibly about the past.” Further, she “frankly confesses” that her own accounts are written in realist language, but her answer is that she does not have to abandon history in order “to challenge its hegemony”!83

Some realists add more general comments regarding postmodernist tendencies toward inconsistency. Zagorin, in the essay just cited, adds, “Like historians, postmodernist authors tell stories about the past that they seem to hope and believe are true and consistent with the facts.”84 More pointedly, Fay asserts, “Most postmetaphysical metatheories implode because they utilize what they deny is legitimate.”85 Evans adds that postmodernism combines many “sometimes contradictory and conflicting ideas.”86 Licona provides several more examples.87

Kelly points out further that postmodern relativists are often not shy about taking much stronger positions than their theory would seem to allow when it favors a situation or view that they support. For example, “When the chips are down, most appeal to some sort of objective reality to settle the matter, with such appeals being seen as binding on all.”88 Kelly also reminds his readers that Hayden White modified his own position of historical skepticism in the light of new data regarding the nature of the Holocaust.89

It could be objected that this critique does not concern the essence of postmodernism, but merely its practice. Therefore, at worst, individual postmodernists should research and publish in ways that more consistently reflect their positions. Thus, they need consistency within their skepticism.

While there is some merit to this comment, the underlying issue seems rather to be whether especially the more radical postmodernists like Lyotard (as well as those like Beard who might be considered forerunners in some sense) can even write history in a way that is consistent with their own stated convictions. Perhaps the problem is that this outlook is long on hypotheses that are ungrounded by actual historical practice, thus failing to work out in reality. In other words, it may be the case that the difficulty does indeed indicate problems with the core or heart of the overall postmodern hypothesis rather than simply its practice alone, as many other scholars have noted. Granted, this may not be the most crucial of the critiques here, but it could end up being a hard-hitting one nonetheless.

Mitigating Subjectivity

Fourth, bias often (probably even usually) can be recognized, mostly weeded out, and corrected. After a detailed discussion, Nagel summarizes his conclusion to the issue: “In brief, therefore, although the historian is undoubtedly selective in the conduct of his inquiries, and although personal and social bias frequently color his judgment and control what conclusions he accepts, none of these facts precludes the possibility of warranted explanations for the events he studies.”90

This is why it is most frequently concluded by historians that we can largely avoid at least the most damaging effects of various biases, personal angles, and the colors of our glasses. One of our principal allies in this endeavor is dialogue with others, since they will often be able to observe our shortcomings better than we can ourselves. Even though various prejudices will probably never be completely uprooted, we can certainly decrease the intrusions.

Few scholars have commented on this issue more than Walsh, and virtually no one is more balanced. A moderate between the two chief philosophical outlooks we have outlined here,91 Walsh helpfully reminds us that “every reputable historian acknowledges the need for some sort of objectivity and impartiality in his work” to separate the facts from our feelings, propaganda, personal preconceptions, or misconceptions. While we will never succeed in neutralizing all the subjective elements, it does not follow that our historical accounts are therefore irretrievable. Arbitrary biases should not be tolerated and need to be rectified whenever possible.92

Moving forward to the more recent postmodern debate, Breisach explains well the overall situation: “For at least four centuries generations of scholars have developed a historical methodology—testing, retesting, and absorbing elements from other disciplines—until by now it can act as a wall of defense against the fanciful tale, willful distortion, and honest error, as well as a sufficiently reliable instrument for truth-finding.” As a result, various species of subjectivity do “not doom historiography’s ability to deliver useful results.”93 McCullagh adds that although we will never know the past absolutely for sure, there are often checks and balances against which we may size up our reports.94

Kelly agrees with these judgments. As he points out concisely: “Bias is hardly incompatible with objectivity properly understood.”95 How so? This is possible because “there are methodological tools, objective to a degree, which make it possible to make progress adjudicating such controversies.”96 So in spite of the selectivity, partiality, and just plain bias of our views and opinions, “none of this needs to compromise the integrity, accuracy, or objectivity of what is written.”97 As sort of a bottom-line result, then, “the historian must take care not to superimpose present concerns and issues onto a study of the past.”98 True, this is all easier said than done, but if Kelly is right, there is a potential path that might be attempted and striven for here as a goal. Perhaps even the majority of professional historians agree at least broadly with this route as well.99

Since we will later be applying these same principles in a New Testament historical framework, what historians, philosophers, textual scholars, and theologians have contributed in this context is also essential, as we reported at the beginning of this chapter. With few exceptions, their comments are often typical of what we have already outlined here. For example, these scholars likewise agree that neutrality and total objectivity in historiography are simply not options.100 John Meier suggests that we should become as aware as possible of our prejudices and work toward minimizing them.101

Subjective elements will always be present in the research, but historical investigations must proceed anyway.102 As historian Paul Barnett argues, we can strive to be aware of our preconceptions while still seeking the discovery of historical information, since the presence of empathy and good research principles are not mutually exclusive.103

In the historical research, as in the larger context of inductive studies, probability is our guide.104 As Robert L. Webb proclaims rather succinctly: “I have argued that all historical judgments are a matter of greater or lesser probabilities, whether concluding for historicity or against historicity.”105 Dunn agrees with other scholars that probable knowledge is very much compatible with faith: “There is nothing illogical or unreasonable in the combination of such trust with merely probable knowledge.”106

There is widespread scholarly agreement today, then, that although there are no neutral writings or writers, and many varieties and degrees of subjectivity, whether intentional, unintentional, or about everything in between, there are also many avenues certainly for reducing the power and effect of these biases. Likewise, there are also various paths and resources for overcoming the most serious types of these challenges.

Historical Facts

Fifth, the techniques and procedures that are normally applied during the historiographical process can yield epistemic conclusions.107 This alone is the most significant critique of all, and virtually all scholars agree with it.108 Since this method can successfully yield factual results, then no matter how careful the process needs to be, we can and should push ahead in our research. Postmodern doubts do not invalidate especially the best of these findings. Historians will of course differ on the specifics, but the best-evidenced details will still result in probable conclusions.109

Though taking a moderate view on this subject, Walsh makes the assertion that “historical conclusions must be backed by evidence just as scientific conclusions must.”110 Even Beard embraces the force of the evidence: “The historian . . . sees the doctrine of relativity crumble in the cold light of historical knowledge.”111

We mentioned above that contemporary postmodern historians, such as Hayden White, Frank Ankersmit, and Keith Jenkins, generally think that many individual facts of the past are knowable. The idealist historians before them, also categorized as relativists, likewise agreed on the ability to obtain past knowledge.112 Karl Mannheim, who is identified by Gardiner as “perhaps the most forthright proponent of historical relativism in recent times,”113 agreed that the expression of subjective aspects “does not imply renunciation of the postulate of objectivity and the possibility of arriving at decisions in factual disputes.”114 Supporting a case for knowable facts, Blake makes the comment that there is a large amount of historical research which is accepted by the whole community of historical scholars.115

Present-day scholars agree with many of these time-honored assessments as well. Breisach notes that contemporary historians have built up a number of methods by which to detect both subjectivity and error as well as to establish reliable techniques for discovering historical events.116 Tosh agrees that there is a body of research methods that links the historical process to established “conventions created by real culture and real social relations.”117 Historian Donald Akenson states that secular and religious historical scholars both utilize the same rules of research: positive evidence is exactly what is needed to affect and change the presumption that an event never occurred or that a saying had never been uttered.118

After a detailed study of postmodern historiography, Licona reports that recent doubts like some of those mentioned in this chapter have not appreciably changed the current scene in historical research. Realism has remained the dominant position.119 Licona outlines the three most common historical approaches today. Some prefer a “naïve realism,” where historical events are basically accepted based on method and confirmation without too much critical interaction. Second, postmodernism challenged the status quo, and this position “has attracted a few scholars.” Third is a realism where historical evidence is valued but where, after critical interaction, conclusions are “held with varying degrees of certainty.” Then Licona concludes concerning the last view: “This is by far how the overwhelming majority of historians view their practice.”120

Many other researchers have also confirmed these notions regarding the widespread, majority scholarly position that affirms the existence of at least some historical facts. George Marsden, Nicolas Rescher, and Stewart Kelly all report similarly after their own overviews of the field. Further, this applies to the majority of postmodernist scholars as well.121 Our citations and comments in this and the previous chapter with regard to Dilthey, Croce, Collingwood, Beard, Becker, Mannheim, White, Ankersmit, Jenkins, and other skeptics of various stripes provide quite a cross section of these views. As McCullagh comments, thousands of historical facts are accompanied by enough evidence in their favor “that no one doubts their truth for a moment.”122

For reasons such as these, we may conclude that attempts to treat historiography in a thoroughgoing relativistic manner are confronted by numerous problems, including more than the ones we have presented so far.123 Generally, postmodernist critics of philosophy of history along with the events themselves have failed either to establish their chief critiques or to attract very many historians who embrace their positions. Besides, we have seen that these scholars rarely dispute the existence of all historical facts. We noted McCullagh’s strong statement above, “I know of no practicing historians who admit that they cannot discover anything true about the past. They . . . do not deny that a lot of the basic facts they present are very probably true.”124 So, perhaps it should be assumed that the purpose of many such postmodern critiques is more about being careful, even skeptical, regarding the embracing of the data of the past rather than about denying altogether the existence of the past.

Granted, there are certainly subjective factors that often influence the historian’s research and writing, such as one’s perspectives and overall worldview. The presence of many such factors is no longer doubted, even by those who defend a realist view of historical inquiry.125

However, the presence of other subjective elements is more hotly debated, such as White’s notion of fictional emplotment used to string together and make sense of the events. It is worthwhile to recall again McCullagh’s crucial comment regarding this absolutely crucial topic: “An historical explanation or interpretation is objective if it can be proved superior to alternative explanations or interpretations according to commonly accepted criteria. When historians compare different explanations and interpretations it becomes clear that they do have criteria by which they judge them.”126 Thus, it is possible that even our interpretations can be the most likely explanations of the available data.

A rigorous objectivity is also possible in the sense defined above, following from the result of an accurate study and investigation of the data, including an application of the appropriate standards of criticism. This would include the entertaining of serious alternative hypotheses, all according to the standards of probability. Our best interpretive and explanatory conclusions need to be weighed as well. Any additional or later challenges need to be answered as well, and followed where needed by further defense or adjustment.

Conclusion

Among the various sorts of idealist, relativist, and postmodernist historians, we have mentioned many critical assertions, such as those regarding the inability to repeat or relive the past, or the effect of a supposed fictional literary emplotment or narrativization woven around the reported data. But does the conclusion simply follow automatically that historical reliability is significantly curtailed as a result? Why must these latter claims and assertions be accepted? There are no causal connections between these more radical declarations and our automatically not knowing what actually occurred before our time, especially where the evidence is at its strongest. So even with the absence of photographs, inaccessibility of direct experiences, or lack of additional physical traces, we may indeed know what happened regarding a great many occurrences in our past.127

At the very least, there are absolutely no compelling reasons why it should be assumed that postmodern or other species of skeptical concern must emerge from some of the more influential ideas here. Neither are there any causal pathways to eliminating the realist arguments for actual historical events, which, as we have seen, postmodern scholars appear to accept or allow anyway. When it comes right down to it, we require more than responses such as “what ifs,” “who was there?” and “that’s just your interpretation.” Perhaps it is “reasoning” such as that just cited concerning the Holocaust that keeps radical postmodern views on the outside looking inside.

As Cleland argues above, history shares with several of the hard sciences the same reliance on reasoning from the directly unobserved past to draw its conclusions.128 So unless there are probable, sustainable alternative hypotheses that successfully explain away the data that exist in the cases of superior scenarios, we must be prepared to allow the facts to stand. We must follow the evidential trails where they lead rather than cover them up, brush them out, or ignore them when we do not like where they are heading.

Chiefly in the previous chapter, we summarized several reasons why, in the mid-twentieth century, the realist and idealist historians arrived at what might best be described as a sort of synthesis between their two outlooks. In addition to the exchange of key ideas as the scholars dialogued through the essential issues, it was noted that crucial developments also occurred when major proponents from one side conceded particular aspects to their interlocutors. This happened in both directions too, as noted by Richard Evans.129

We also saw that it seems possible to note similar sorts of developments early in the twenty-first-century dialogue as well. After the more recent discussions featuring the main concerns of the realist and postmodern historical outlooks, there likewise occurred the acknowledgment of alternative views across both sides of the aisle. For example, John Tosh summarizes some of the progress that has been made in these current discussions. He notes that there is a recognizable past, even though realists know that our sources do not communicate with us directly, that human selection is involved, and that the historian in some sense molds the presentation. The result is that “history is neither an exemplar of realism, nor a victim to relativism. It occupies a middle ground in which scholarly procedures are upheld to keep the avenues of enquiry as close to the ‘real’ and as far removed from the ‘relative’ as possible.” To that end, historians police their own discipline in order “to enforce standards of scholarship and to restrain waywardness of interpretation. Peer-group scrutiny operates as a powerful mechanism for ensuring that within the area of enquiry they find so significant, historians are as true as they can be to the surviving evidence of the past.”130

Similarly, Mark Gilderhus remarks, “In defense of the truth-telling claims of their discipline, historians as a consequence have felt a need, on the one hand, to instruct historical fundamentalists who insist upon sacred and sacrosanct versions of an unchanging past and, on the other, to persuade unbelieving skeptics who deny its knowability.”131 Thus, “Although historians strive for some measure of objectivity, they also show their prejudices.”132

Thus, at the end of this discussion, we note both the presence of real data as well as its potentially more subjective interpretations.133 But how do historians actually carry out this process? We turn now to some of the important tasks of historiography.

Notes

1 Novick, That Noble Dream, 417–18, 480–91, and chap. 14 (see chap. 1, n. 65).

2 Novick, 573.

3 Novick, 596.

4 Novick, 628. Incredibly, Novick comments that the situation in the field of history was reminiscent of the comment at the end of the Old Testament book of Judges, where everyone did what seemed right in his own eyes!

5 Thomas Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, 2nd ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1970), 147–48, cf. 205 for instance.

6 Historian Ernst Breisach draws a line of influence from the idealist historians in the 1890s to these much later postmodern trends. See Breisach, Historiography, 333–35 (see chap. 1, n. 24). According to New Testament scholar Michael Licona, “the three best known postmodern historians” are Hayden White, Frank Ankersmit, and Keith Jenkins (71). Of these, Licona points out that “although White and Ankersmit are bright lights among postmodernist historians, the leading light of the movement and most radical of the three is Keith Jenkins.” See Licona, Resurrection of Jesus, 77 (see chap. 2, n. 13). Interestingly enough on this last comment, philosopher Stewart Kelly argues that Hayden White is actually the “leading historian seeking to deconstruct and demystify traditional historiography in the last 50 years.” See Kelly, Truth Considered and Applied, 191 (see chap. 1, n. 15). Alan B. Spitzer seems to agree with Kelly, calling White “the most influential American subverter-from-within”! See Spitzer, Historical Truth and Lies about the Past: Reflections on Dewey, Dreyfus, de Man, and Reagan (Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press, 1996), 3.

7 Postmodernist historians often speak well of the idealist or relativist historians we discussed above. This especially pertains to Croce, Collingwood, and sometimes Dilthey, who are probably the favorites, perhaps due to their more radical tendencies. (That the first three historians are mentioned more frequently than Beard and Becker and a few others may be due to them being European, as are many of the postmodernists.) However, American historian Hayden White also expresses appreciation for both Croce and Collingwood in The Fiction of Narrative: Essays of History, Literature, and Theory, 1957–2007, ed. Robert Doran (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2010), xiv and chap. 3.

8 Such as French philosopher Jean-François Lyotard’s comments in his essay “The Postmodern Condition,” in The Postmodern History Reader, ed. Keith Jenkins (London: Routledge, 1997), 36.

9 On the claimed similarities between history, storytelling, and fictional writing, see Kelly, Truth Considered and Applied, 193–97. Regarding the view of history and other disciplines as involving power plays, see Kelly, 82, 107, 120, 124, 145, 240.

10 Kelly, Truth Considered and Applied, 64–65.

11 Indeed, Hayden White states that there cannot be any history at all without some such narrative structure, what he refers to as “emplotment.” See White, The Content of the Form: Narrative Discourse and Historical Representation (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1987), 5.

12 One place Keith Jenkins raises the question is in Rethinking History (London: Routledge, 1991), chap. 2; cf. Breisach, Historiography, 331–37; Gilderhus, History and Historians, 111–24 (see chap. 1, n. 6); Tosh, Pursuit of History, 185–94 (see chap. 1, n. 24).

13 E. H. Carr, What Is History?, 10–12, 35 (see chap. 1, n. 11).

14 For instance, though his typical social and economic interests were quite different than the usual perspectives, Carr’s three-volume work, The Bolshevik Revolution, 1917–1923 (New York: Macmillan, 1950–1953), does not give the appearance of a scholar who mistrusts the ability to reconstruct past historical events. But neither is Carr as radical as some of the later historians.

15 See Foucault, Archaeology of Knowledge, 139–40, 151, 159 for some examples (see chap. 1, n. 68).

16 Foucault, 149–65.

17 Foucault, 162–65, 195.

18 Hayden White, Figural Realism: Studies in the Mimesis Effect (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1999), 2. For the possibility of gaining historical details regarding the Holocaust, cf. White, Content of the Form, 78–80; White, “Historical Emplotment and the Problem of Truth,” in Jenkins, Postmodern History Reader, 292–96.

19 Novick, That Noble Dream, 600.

20 Jenkins, Rethinking History, chap. 2, nn. 8, 89.

21 Keith Jenkins, “Introduction: On Being Open about Our Closures,” in Jenkins, Postmodern History Reader, 10, 19.

22 Geoffrey Elton, The Practice of History (New York: Crowell, 1967).

23 Keith Jenkins, On ‘What Is History?’ From Carr and Elton to Rorty and White (Abingdon, UK: 1995), 2, 6. Similarly, Jenkins, “Introduction,” 3.

24 Jenkins, “Introduction,” 8. Jenkins applauds some similar comments by Robert Berkhofer on 20.

25 Jenkins, “Introduction,” 19–20. So as not to be misunderstood, it should be remarked very clearly here that the point in the last few paragraphs is not to somehow act as if, since the major postmodernist interpreters actually do allow for real historical facts, somehow the realist historians therefore “win.” The comments regarding White and Jenkins immediately above should make it clear that while certain events certainly occurred, many other problems, such as the nature of interpretation and meaning, complicate matters seriously. Thus, that there are actual historical events certainly does not close the book on these chief issues. So the existence of “facts” is not the entire point of this discussion. As Richard Evans summarizes Jenkins’s position, it is not so much that we study the past, but rather what others say about the past. See Evans, In Defense of History, 83 (see chap. 1, n. 11).

26 Lyotard, “Postmodern Condition,” 36.

27 Breisach, Historiography, 333.

28 Dray, History as Re-enactment: R. G. Collingwood’s Idea of History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995).

29 Evans, In Defense of History, 31.

30 Evans, 4.

31 Breisach, Historiography, 407–8.

32 Gilderhus, History and Historians, 118.

33 Tosh, Pursuit of History, 194–95.

34 Nancy Partner, “History in the Age of Reality-Fictions,” in A New Philosophy of History, ed. Frank Ankersmit and Hans Kellner (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995), 22.

35 Partner, 23.

36 Brian Fay, “Nothing but History?,” History and Theory 37 (1998): 83.

37 Of course, since the time Partner and Fay published their comments, the scholar that some call the most radical of the postmodernist historians, Keith Jenkins, has emerged. In terms of influence, does his work change any of this critique? Would the state of the overall question be evaluated any differently today? What about Partner’s charge that the postmodernists have not disproven any arguments? This is significant whichever way it is answered.

38 It should be noted carefully that, except for the three words quoted from Partner, I am not saying that Partner, Fay, or anyone else is charging the things in this paragraph. I’m simply raising a few questions for discussion, without clear responses.

39 Licona, Resurrection of Jesus, 86–87. For Roberts’s article, see “Postmodernism and History: Missing the Missed Connections,” History and Theory 44 (2005): 252. For Breisach’s thoughts, see Historiography, 335–37, 407–10.

40 Jenkins, “Introduction,” 1, also 12.

41 Such as Jenkins, “Introduction,” 1, 8; White, Figural Realism, 1.

42 The ideas and key works of these philosophers can be found throughout this chapter as well as the previous one.

43 It might be charged that the philosophers just named were from the past generation and therefore were not exposed to the full force of the postmodern arguments. Several things need to be pointed out here. The past generation still debated the influential and sophisticated relativistic ideas of Dilthey, Croce, Collingwood, Beard, and Becker, among others, many of whom, as we said, are much appreciated by today’s postmodernists. Further, relevant publications of several of these philosophers, such as Morton White’s Foundations of Historical Knowledge (see chap. 1, n. 58), William H. Dray’s “Philosophy of History” (see chap. 1, n. 6), or Patrick Gardiner’s “The Philosophy of History,” 6:429, 432–33 (see chap. 1, n. 6), as well as Gardiner’s edited text Philosophy of History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1974), were all written just a few years before Hayden White’s famous text, Tropics of Discourse: Essays in Cultural Criticism (Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 1978). Many of these ideas were discussed at that time, even as extensions of the earlier debates just mentioned. Moreover, Dray, for one, published other volumes that extended well into the time of the postmodern writers, such as Perspectives on History (London: Routledge, 1980), History as Re-enactment, and On History and Philosophers of History (Leiden: Brill, 1997). Lastly, our critique below will include several responses to the postmodern views from contemporary philosophers.

44 See Hans Meyerhoff’s own comments in Philosophy of History, 119 (see chap. 1, n. 8), as he discusses the views of Carl Becker and Charles Beard.

45 Walsh, “Can History Be Objective?,” 216–24 (see chap. 1, n. 20).

46 Charles Beard, “That Noble Dream,” in The Varieties of History, ed. Fritz Stein (Cleveland: World, 1956), 323–25; Gardiner, “Philosophy of History,” 433.

47 One of the key indications that a genuine exchange of ideas was occurring between the sides was that, precisely because the realists came to freely recognize the bias involved in all human views and reporting, the term objectivist no longer quite described them without serious nuance. After all, it was now recognized that it was impossible even to hold views or write without doing so from particular perspectives or angles. Further, views could only be held according to the canons of probability. Hence, no scholars were “objectivists” in the older sense of the term.

48 For a critique of the earlier relativistic trends through the mid-twentieth century, including much of the interplay between these scholars, see Gary R. Habermas, The Historical Jesus: Ancient Evidence for the Life of Christ (Joplin, MO: College Press, 1996), 265–73.

49 Like the comment above regarding the realist compromises that were made through interacting with the various idealist positions, no longer could the idealists properly be called “subjectivists,” except perhaps with reference to particular, narrower moves. But for example, concerning one of the chief issues in this volume, namely, the existence of actual historical facts, all (or at least virtually all) of these scholars freely acknowledged that many historical facts could be known to have occurred in spite of the precarious nature of knowledge and the personal preferences of the researchers. Still, it therefore remains a rather puzzling comment when Novick refers to Hayden White as being associated with the new, radical “extreme ‘nihilistic relativism’ within the profession.” Novick, That Noble Dream, 599. However, this could have much to do with the relatively early publishing date of Novick’s volume (1988), when many of the nuances of historical postmodernism had not come to light and its interactive nuances had not more fully emerged.

50 This is the topic of our next chapter.

51 Kelly levels four criticisms at Hayden White’s overall postmodern approach. (1) White’s four literary criteria are not obligatory for the writing of history. Why must anyone think that such a pattern is always necessary? (2) White’s projected process of historians establishing a fact followed by “emploting” or developing a narrative regarding such occurrences “assumes a sharp fact-theory distinction” that is grounded in the very modernistic theory that White rejects. Further and much more crucially, even if White were correct about this process that he asserts, the narrative portion constructed by the historian need not be a false or incorrect judgment. In fact, the historian’s configuration could really be an entirely accurate narration. (3) The vast majority of historians do not think they are constructing a fictional narration or any other kind of artful composition. As they conceive it, they at least think they are seeking and presenting truth, and they strive toward that goal. If they are mistaken in this assumption, their view is either corrected or rejected when it is reviewed by other historians. (4) White’s criticisms leave the door open to almost any sort of hypotheses concerning history that may come along, however ungrounded. In short, Kelly notes that White’s criticisms do “nothing that would undermine a modest historical realism.” For further details, see Kelly, Truth Considered and Applied, 193–200.

52 Kelly also directs four major critiques of Jenkins’s attack on objectivity in the writing of history. (1) Human life as a whole is generally narrational in nature, so such a process is not some alien encumbrance that is foisted upon historical research in some prejudiced manner as just recently discovered by deconstructionist authors! (2) In the writing of good history, careful standards are employed to ensure the accuracy of the overall narrational product, such as carefully and fairly procuring reliable data, securing the evidence on its behalf, as well as placing the data into a coherent narrative. (3) The vast majority of historians would attest that literally thousands of historical facts can be ascertained clearly, untainted by human subjectivity of various sorts. (4) “Jenkins’ view suffers from a major defect that threatens all relativistic and/or reductionistic views”: if all human thought is subjectively tainted in the manner outlined by postmodernists, then Jenkins’s own thoughts must suffer the exact same fate. In such a case, then, Jenkins is “wasting our time” and poses no threat whatsoever to historical realism. See Kelly, 207–11.

53 Jenkins, “Introduction,” 1, 8; White, Figural Realism, 1.

54 That is to say, there is some overlap between aspects of these critiques that are not necessarily to be construed as entirely separate considerations.

55 Nagel, “Logic of Historical Analysis,” 203–15 (see chap. 1, n. 66).

56 Christopher Blake, “Can History Be Objective?,” in Theories of History, ed. Patrick Gardiner (New York: Macmillan, 1959), 332; cf. also 343. See also Fischer, Historians’ Fallacies, 42–43 (see chap. 1, n. 37).

57 Blake, “Can History Be Objective?,” 335.

58 Kelly, Truth Considered and Applied, 210.

59 This is Meyerhoff’s evaluation in Philosophy of History, 138.

60 Beard, “Written History,” 147 (see chap. 1, n. 66). Rather incredibly, Novick points out that Beard and Becker even “cheerfully accepted” the philosopher’s charge that their positions employed self-refuting reasoning! See Novick, That Noble Dream, 278.

61 For details, see Licona, Resurrection of Jesus, esp. 79–81.

62 Tosh, Pursuit of History, 190–91, 196.

63 Spitzer, Historical Truth and Lies, 3.

64 Novick, That Noble Dream, 277–78.

65 Spitzer, Historical Truth and Lies, 3. Intriguingly, Spitzer asserts here that one of the more pragmatic reasons for not being willing to dismiss all truth is that such a stance would leave the postmodernist without adequate grounds for critiquing “deplorable” societal conditions such as racism, sexism, and so on apart from one’s own preference! Hence, this philosophical outlook seems to be looking even less and less adequate!

66 Kelly, Truth Considered and Applied, 210–11.

67 Kelly, 133.

68 Kelly, 133.

69 White, “Can History Be Objective?,” 194–95 (see chap. 1, n. 66). White borrowed the analogy of the physician from Sidney Hook (199).

70 Nagel, “Logic of Historical Analysis,” 210.

71 Jenkins, “Introduction,” 10.

72 McCullagh, Truth of History, 5 (see chap. 2, n. 1).

73 For example, I acknowledge Stewart Kelly’s suggested comment here that a species of modest foundationalism may serve as a middle road between Cartesian foundationalism and a thoroughgoing skepticism.

74 Chris Lorenz, “Can Histories Be True? Narrativism, Positivism, and the ‘Metaphorical Turn,’” History and Theory 37 (1998): 314, as cited by Licona in Resurrection of Jesus, 81.

75 Tabor, Jesus Dynasty, 316 (see chap. 1, n. 18).

76 White, “Can History Be Objective?,” 200–201.

77 Beard, Economic Interpretation (see chap. 1, n. 68); cf. White, “Can History Be Objective?,” 190–96, 200–201. White further charges Beard with contradicting himself on whether or not it is possible for history to be done in a neutral manner (196–97).

78 Meyerhoff, Philosophy of History, 138.

79 Breisach, Historiography, 333.

80 It should be noted too that Beard’s work in question was not a momentary lapse in a brief response over the few pages of an article, for instance, but occurred in his volume of over 300 pages in length, which White analyzes, finding that it comes far short of careful logical standards. In one example, he compares Beard’s statements, showing that some of Beard’s chief irregularities and inconsistencies come when he simply wants to make room for his own private preferences. Like other realist commentators we have mentioned, White thinks that the idealist position begins with “the assumption that we can never have a complete history” (193). While freely admitting subjective issues at work in the historiographical process (194), White proclaims that it is a non sequitur to go from these assertions to the relativistic position, or to not being able to ascertain historical data (194–96). As White notes, in 1934 while arguing his relativistic position, Beard said that no historian can be “coldly neutral” and that such a stance has been “challenged and rejected” (196–97). But then just a year later, while still holding his “extremely relativistic views,” Beard commented in the introduction to the new edition of his work on the Constitution that such an analysis could indeed be “coldly neutral” (196)! This appears to give the impression that for Beard, historical research can be objectively true only when it is something that he really desires to be so. White concludes, “This contradiction is typical of Beard’s later writings on this subject. . . . Beard never gave any evidence of being able to comprehend this problem” (197). White judged that Beard was guilty of a common error in philosophy of history: confusing “the psychology of historical interpretation with its logic” (199). Beard’s methodological faith was even sufficient to “justify historical distortion” (199) and turned out to be “most implausible . . . obscure and contradictory . . . a lack of respect for logical rigor and clear thinking” (200). All pages here are taken from White’s essay “Can History Be Objective?”

81 For instance, Breisach notes that not only Beard but also Becker “veered away” from their interpretations when the results did not fit as well with their notions of “liberal democracy.” See Breisach, Historiography, 332–33.

82 Thomas L. Haskell, “Objectivity Is Not Neutrality: Rhetoric vs. Practice in Peter Novick’s That Noble Dream,” History and Theory 29 (1990), 155–56, as cited by Licona in Resurrection of Jesus, 80–81.

83 Perez Zagorin, “History, the Referent, and Narrative: Reflections on Postmodernism Now,” History and Theory 38 (1999): 14, as cited by Licona in Resurrection of Jesus, 79–80.

84 Zagorin, “History, the Referent, and Narrative,” 14.

85 Fay, “Nothing but History?,” 84.

86 Evans, In Defense of History, 222n6.

87 Licona, Resurrection of Jesus, 79–89.

88 Kelly, Truth Considered and Applied, 112. Later, Kelly cites Goss and Levitt, who charge postmodernists with speaking in total confidence about virtually any aspect of human thought and experience that they care to, almost always with an assurance that absolutely belies their aversion to what they can know for sure (227).

89 Kelly, 199, 204.

90 Nagel, “Logic of Historical Analysis,” 215, cf. also 212–13.

91 Meyerhoff agrees in his comment in Philosophy of History, 215. A helpful example of Meyerhoff’s comment here is Walsh’s conclusion to the selection in this volume on 224.

92 The quotation is from Walsh’s volume Philosophy of History, 19 (see chap. 1, n. 21); cf. other insightful comments by Walsh in his “Can History Be Objective?,” 222, 224; “Limits of Scientific History,” 60–61, 74 (see chap. 1, n. 66); Walsh, “‘Meaning’ in History,” 60–61, 74 (see chap. 1, n. 66); cf. Gardiner, “Philosophy of History,” 433.

93 Breisach, Historiography, 408.

94 McCullagh, Truth of History, 38. Peter Novick recounts a story that has sometimes been retold in historical works that illustrates the comments of Briesach, McCullagh, and other historians. Novick relates that Princeton University Press published David Abraham’s 1977 revised University of Chicago PhD dissertation with the title The Collapse of the Weimar Republic, Political Economy and Crisis. Subsequently, a rather large debate developed as many scholars complained about various factual, research, and other problems in the volume. According to Novick, these “errors were particularly serious” (616), but the point is that the relevant historical research was able to uncover many of these more subjective matters. See Novick, That Noble Dream, 612–21. Jon Wiener also includes the Abraham situation along with other accounts in his work Historians in Trouble: Plagiarism, Fraud, and Politics in the Ivory Tower (New York: New Press, 2005), chap. 5.

95 Kelly, Truth Considered and Applied, 204.

96 Kelly, 215.

97 Kelly, 217.

98 Kelly, 213.

99 For an exceptionally noteworthy volume addressing some of the actual workings of these issues, including how historical and other disagreements might be settled, see Spitzer, Historical Truth and Lies. One of the main contentions in this book is that when crucial issues are at stake, even postmodernist thinkers regularly resort to the same objectivist methodologies, arguments, and conclusions that they have elsewhere rejected (see esp. the introduction to this book).

100 That neutrality is not an option, even in the name of religious belief, is acknowledged regularly. For just a small sampling of some theologians and philosophers who agree, see Wolfhart Pannenberg, Jesus, 73 (see chap. 1, n. 19); Wright, New Testament and the People of God, 36, 82–88, 137, 398 (see chap. 1, n. 15); Johnson, Living Jesus, 31, 122 (see chap. 1, n. 19); Samuel, “Making Room in History,” 106 (see chap. 1, n. 19); O’Collins, Easter Jesus, 61 (see chap. 1, n. 19); Witherington, “Resurrection Redux,” 129 (see chap. 1, n. 19); Davis, Risen Indeed, 172 (see chap. 1, n. 16); Padgett, “Advice for Religious Historians,” 293–94 (see chap. 1, n. 17).

101 Meier, Marginal Jew, 3:443 (see chap. 1, n. 27).

102 Favoring historical investigations in spite of the various sorts of subjective elements are: Lüdemann with Özen, What Really Happened to Jesus, 5–6 (see chap. 1, n. 41); Wedderburn, Beyond Resurrection, 170–71 (see chap. 1, n. 42); Grant, Jesus, 200 (see chap. 1, n. 24); Wright, New Testament and the People of God, 36–37, 44, 82–90, 95; G. T. Eddy, “The Resurrection of Jesus Christ: A Consideration of Professor Cranfield’s Argument,” Expository Times 101 (1990): 327–29; Samuel, “Making Room in History,” 106–7; Maier, In the Fullness of Time, 180–81 (see chap. 1, n. 24), among many others. It should be noted that approximately half of these researchers above are skeptical scholars.

103 Barnett, Birth of Christianity, 10–11 (see chap. 1, n. 23).

104 Agreeing on the requirement of utilizing probabilities as the proper guide for research, even in matters of a historical foundation for faith, are historians such as Grant, Jesus, 201; McCullagh, Justifying Historical Descriptions, 16 (see chap. 1, n. 40); Wand, Christianity, 51–52 (see chap. 1, n. 22); Barnett, Birth of Christianity, 13; Walsh, Philosophy of History, 19; Gilderhus, History and Historians, 118; Kennedy, History of Reasonableness, 128, 146–67 (see chap. 1, n. 40); and Maier, “Empty Tomb as History,” 4–6 (see chap. 1, n. 40). Most New Testament historians, textual scholars, and theologians would also agree, including Lüdemann and Özen, What Really Happened to Jesus, 6; Wedderburn, Beyond Resurrection, 170–71; Tabor, Jesus Dynasty, 317; Robinson, Can We Trust the New Testament?, 129 (see chap. 1, n. 43); Wright, “Early Traditions,” 138 (see chap. 1, n. 44); Dunn, Jesus Remembered, 101 (see chap. 1, n. 3); Johnson, “Learning the Human Jesus,” 161 (see chap. 1, n. 3); Allison, Resurrecting Jesus, 340 (see chap. 1, n. 30); Sanders, Historical Figure of Jesus, 280–81 (see chap. 1, n. 44); Pannenberg, Jesus, 99; Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, 2:361 (see chap. 1, n. 44); Moltmann, “Resurrection of Christ,” 78 (see chap. 1, n. 44); O’Collins, “Resurrection Revisited,” 169–72 (see chap. 1, n. 44); Evans, “Life-of-Jesus Research,” 25, 28, 30 (see chap. 1, n. 44); Osborne, Resurrection Narratives, 294 (see chap. 1, n. 44). This list also contains numerous skeptical scholars who would still include their own views here.

105 Robert L. Webb, “Methodological Naturalism: Engaging the Responses of Robert J. Miller and Amy-Jill Levine,” Journal for the Study of the Historical Jesus 9 (2011): 219 (Webb’s emphasis).

106 Dunn, Jesus Remembered, 105n19.

107 McCullagh argues that for philosophers of history, “the most popular theory in recent years has been that historical inferences are arguments to the best explanation of a body of available evidence.” See McCullagh, Justifying Historical Descriptions, 16. See also Peter Lipton, Inference to the Best Explanation, 2nd ed. (London: Routledge, 2004).

108 McCullagh remarkably avers, “I know of no practicing historians who admit that they cannot discover anything true about the past. They . . . do not deny that a lot of the basic facts they present are very probably true.” He goes on to remark that philosophers of history will make additional responses to any challenges, but historians are basically content to leave the matter here. See McCullagh, Truth of History, 15.

109 Regarding interpretation of the historical facts, which is perhaps the most troubling aspect for postmodernists, McCullagh concludes with the absolutely crucial response that “an historical explanation or interpretation is objective if it can be proved superior to alternative explanations or interpretations according to commonly accepted criteria. When historians compare different explanations and interpretations it becomes clear that they do have criteria by which they judge them.” See McCullagh, 308.

110 Walsh, “‘Meaning’ in History,” 301. Most historians of the past generation as well as contemporary scholars agree with this factual process of fact-finding. For the former, see Fischer, Historians’ Fallacies, 42–43; Passmore, “Objectivity of History,” 79–80, 88 (see chap. 1, n. 66); plus each of these three essays in Gardiner’s Theories of History: Berlin, “Determinism, Relativism, and Historical Judgments,” 324–29; Blake, “Can History Be Objective?,” 331–32, 339; White, “Historical Explanation,” 365. For contemporary historians, see the discussion below.

111 Beard, “Written History,” 148.

112 For some impressive texts on the ability to determine actual historical data according to the best-known relativists from the century or so before Hayden White, see Dilthey, “Understanding of Other Persons,” 224 (see chap. 1, n. 55); Croce, “History and Chronicle,” 228 (see chap. 1, n. 56); Collingwood, Essays in the Philosophy of History, 102–3 (see chap. 1, n. 57), and in his work “Historical Imagination,” 79–84 (see chap. 1, n. 56); Beard in both Economic Interpretation and “Written History,” 141, 149; and Becker, “What Are Historical Facts?,” 122–28, 134, 136 (see chap. 1, n. 61); cf. Becker, Heavenly City, esp. chaps. 1 and 2 (see chap. 1, n. 68). Similar to our earlier remark above, it is important to note that it is precisely for these reasons that the label “skeptics” probably represents these idealistic scholars better than “relativists,” which seems to be a bit of a misnomer for these older thinkers as well as for the more recent postmodern historians.

113 Gardiner, Theories of History, 269.

114 Karl Mannheim, “Sociology of Knowledge,” 244–47 (see chap. 1, n. 68).

115 Blake, “Can History Be Objective?,” 331.

116 Breisach, Historiography, 408.

117 Tosh, Pursuit of History, 195.

118 Donald Harman Akenson, Saint Saul: A Skeleton Key to the Historical Jesus (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), esp. 297n3.

119 Kelly argues a proposal for modest realism, revolving around ten points (a few of which are modified somewhat): (1) “The historical record is far from complete” (213). (2) Writing history “is a dialogue between the present and the past” (213). (3) “History is massively selective” (214). (4) Facts do not carry their own explanations or meanings (215). (5) “Objectivity does not require detachment or neutrality” (215). (6) “Substantive historical claims are defeasible” (216). (7) Writing history requires fairness (217). (8) We must distinguish between ideas and beliefs being socially constructed and the actual objects of beliefs being socially constructed (218). (9) “Physical objects are not socially constructed and are irreducible to such constructions” (220). (10) “History, much like science and philosophy, is fundamentally interested in explanation” (222). Kelly also states a major realist proposition that he terms the “Default Position” (DP), namely, that “some claims of historical knowledge (historical claims) are epistemically justified” (224). Then he defends this “DP” against the following five potential defeaters: (1) “There is no such thing as transcendent truth” (225). (2) “Knowledge, reality, and truth are the products of language” (228). (3) If any transcendent or objective truths exist, “they would be inaccessible and unknowable by human beings” (236). (4) “There are no privileged epistemic positions, and no certain foundations for beliefs” (237). (5) Appeals to truth serve the purpose of domination and repression (240). See Kelly, Truth Considered and Applied, 211–44.

120 Licona, Resurrection of Jesus, the quotations are found on 89; cf. 83.

121 George M. Marsden, “Christian Advocacy and the Rules of the Academic Game,” in Religious Advocacy and American History, ed. Bruce Kuklick and D. G. Hart (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997), 8; Nicholas Rescher, Objectivity: The Obligations of Impersonal Reason (Notre Dame, IN: Notre Dame University Press, 1997), 199–200; see Kelly, Truth Considered and Applied, 8n34, 112–15, 127, 198, 201, 206, 212, 216–18.

122 McCullagh, Truth of History, 13.

123 Instances of these additional critiques are not difficult to locate in the relevant literature. In an insightful comment, Fischer holds that relativists often confuse knowledge itself with the means by which it is acquired. See Fischer, Historians’ Fallacies, 44–45. Morton White adds, as we mentioned earlier, that the relativist critique is frequently “a confusion which is typical in the philosophy of history, the confusion between the psychology of historical interpretation and its logic.” See White, “Can History Be Objective?,” 199. Another major issue is that while relativists recognize both the necessity and existence of objectively known historical facts, these data are still often subordinated due to the role of interpretation. For a helpful study of this topic, contrast Collingwood’s key distinction in “History as Re-enactment,” 251–58, between the “outside” and the “inside” of an occurrence. Isaiah Berlin levels still another question to keep in mind: common terms such as subjective and relative either “need correlatives, or else they turn out to be without meaning themselves.” In short, what is the standard that we use for our comparison for these and other words? See Berlin, “Determinism, Relativism, and Historical Judgments,” 324, 328. Blake agrees with Berlin, complaining that otherwise “no alternative recognisable sense” of meaning exists for the subjective vocabulary. Blake, “Can History Be Objective?,” 335.

124 McCullagh, Truth of History, 15.

125 As even strong realists like Nagel and many others clearly admit in “Logic of Historical Analysis,” 215. McCullagh states, “Most historians will agree that their syntheses of historical events reflect their interests, that they pick out those patterns in the past which they think to be of historical, ethical, or political importance.” But these historians do not think that this “renders their accounts of the past entirely subjective.” See McCullagh, Truth of History, 4. As McCullagh notes elsewhere, historical descriptions are discussed according to their justification and are either true or false, while interpretations and explanations are distinguished from the former, even though these latter results can still be judged according to whether they are “more or less adequate.” See McCullagh, Justifying Historical Descriptions, 14. Similarly, Evans also acknowledges these corrigible factors; see Evans, In Defense of History, 216, 219–20.

126 McCullagh, Truth of History, 308.

127 One major mainstay of the recent historiographical discussion concerns testing methodologies with application to the subject of the Jewish Holocaust. Kelly lists some of the strongest evidences which indicate that Auschwitz was indeed a death camp, such as Goebbels’s diary, the commandant’s autobiography, the ruins of the gas chambers, German and Jewish photographs, eyewitness testimonies, and so on—literally “millions of pieces of evidence.” See Kelly, Truth Considered and Applied, esp. 251, for a list. Yet, revisionist Holocaust deniers question nearly everything, referring to many of the claims as fantasy. But it seems that particular postmodernists were heavily criticized for their stance here. We have already mentioned above how White changed his own position on the Holocaust; see Kelly, 198–99, 254.

Frankly, if Michael Licona is correct in his examples pertaining to the Holocaust, then there are virtually no words to describe some of the conclusions reached by some postmodernist commentators and their critiques of realism; cf. Licona’s summary in Resurrection of Jesus, 77–78. What can be said if it is the case that these skeptics are content to question particular aspects of the Holocaust on grounds such as those described by Wulf Kansteiner’s thoughts on Jean-François Lyotard’s supposed catch-22, namely, that the Auschwitz survivors “cannot attest to the crime committed because they did not experience the gas chambers themselves, while the victims cannot testify because they have been killed.” As a result, is it actually being suggested that all we can say is that the events that occurred at Auschwitz are somehow indescribable? Or rather, if Lyotard is more simply attempting to make this a critique of the “representational” or realist perspective, then it is simply an unfair caricature for more than one reason, but chiefly because realists do not require atomistic freeze-frames of every second to describe probable events or the most likely meanings that can be drawn from them. If so, then producing certain types of circumstantial evidence at a contemporary trial would have no evidential force. See Wulf Kansteiner, “From Exception to Exemplum: The New Approaches to Nazism and the ‘Final Solution,’” in Jenkins, Postmodern History Reader, 415. It should be noted that the last few essays in Jenkins’s edited work here discuss Holocaust issues.

128 This would be a good time as well to recall the words of Carol Cleland above, namely, that some of the hard sciences also rely necessarily on historical theses as well, such as “continental drift, the meteorite-impact extinction of the dinosaurs, the big bang origin of the universe, and, more recently, the hypothesis that there are planets orbiting distant stars.” For our purposes, the significance of these observations is this: “what all of these hypotheses have in common is explaining observable phenomena (e.g., the complementary shapes of the east coast of South America and the west coast of Africa, the iridium and shocked quartz in the Cretaceous-Tertiary [K-T] boundary, the isotropic three-degree background radiation, the wobbling reflex motion of certain stars) in terms of their past causes” (987). In her conclusion, she contends that “when it comes to testing hypotheses, historical science is not inferior to classical experimental science” (990). See Cleland, “Historical Science,” 987–90 (see chap. 1, n. 4).

129 Evans, In Defense of History, 12. As an earlier example, Kelly noted Hayden White’s shift on the crucial subject of the Holocaust; see Kelly, Truth Considered and Applied, 199, as well as the insightful conclusion on 204.

130 Tosh, Pursuit of History, 198–99.

131 Gilderhus, History and Historians, 111.

132 Gilderhus, 112.

133 Thanks to Stewart Kelly for many insightful comments on this chapter.

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