Public museums are different.
Public museums, such as the Smithsonian Institute, are also run by a board of directors. But the public museum relies on donations from major public sponsors and the good will of the public in order to remain open. In the case of the Smithsonian, it receives major funding from the United States government, and depends on the goodwill of Congress and the constituents to maintain its nineteen museums, national zoo, and extensive underground storage systems.
While sites such as the Smithsonian are dependent on public good will for funding, that does not mean that they should cater to public interests and beliefs.
Case in point:
In 1995, the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum planned to display the Enola Gay for the first time, in celebration of the fiftieth anniversary of the ending of World War II (which, coincidentally, would also be the fiftieth anniversary of the droppings of the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki). A detailed exhibit was planned, covering not just the bombings, but the background to the decision, its pros and cons, and the impact it had on world events. The public, specifically John T. Cornell, editor of AIR FORCE Magazine, threw a fit over the exhibit. Eventually, Congress became involved, as Newt Gingrich and other members of the Republican Party saw a way to control the way in which America was perceived. Declaring that "revisionist" historians had no place in American museums, a campaign was launched against the exhibit, which eventually led to the semi-forced retirement of the director of the Smithsonian Institute and a presentation of a much more subdued exhibit devoted solely to the Enola Gay, ignoring the bomb entirely.
Which brings me to my main point: what is the true purpose of the public museum? And should it have to conform to public desires for "patriotic correctness"?
Public museums (and all museums, to be completely honest) are made available to the public in order to give them a place to connect with the past. "At long last," writes Mike Wallace, "the American past is as crowded, diverse, contentious, and fascinating as the American present" (302). And Americans are drawn to this. In a museum, people are given the chance to see things and form their own opinions, based either on the placards or simply on their own personal knowledge, instead of being taught one person's opinion. There is a chance that they can exit the museum with a greater respect and knowledge of the past than when they entered. Public museums (and private ones, as well) do a great service here to the American people.
However, some people want to see only certain versions of history that go along with how they view events. This is where the Enola Gay exhibit comes into play. The public attempted to determine what kind of history was displayed at the Smithsonian, and, in trying to fix what was deemed too radical, the Smithsonian eventually cut out everything and left only the plane. The members of the public wanted a more "patriotic" look at the events that led up to Hiroshima and Nagasaki, a look that portrayed Americans as heroes and the dropping of the bombs as vital to the ending of the war. The original copy for the exhibit showed doubts about the necessity of the bomb and the heroism of Americans - in fact, it was heavily criticized (unnecessarily, upon reading in context) for favoring and victimizing the Japanese.
Should public museums become "patriotically correct" - sticking to the mythological America, where Americans are strong and brave and can do no wrong?
No. They should not.
Do they often have the liberty to do so?
No.
By becoming "patriotically correct," history loses some of the things that make it interesting - the darkness must balance out the light. Americans fought in Vietnam as well as in World War II. The Holocaust involved not just Nazi soldiers and the German people, but people in Hungary and Vichy France. The French Revolution overthrew a corrupt monarchy, but it also led to the mass executions of hundreds of thousands of innocents. Americans dropped the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki and killed citizens.
The good has to be balanced by the bad.
By cleansing the viewpoint, we lose the balance. History becomes saccharine - sickly sweet, overly cheerful, like the Hollywood films of the 1930s and 1940s. The hero always triumphs. In the end, good wins out over evil, the hero can do no wrong, and all is right with the world. But that is not how history works.
Men who seemed to be able to only do good turn out to be maniacally evil. The best laid plans turn out to have catastrophic consequences. Nothing is as it seems on the surface.
However, public museums are often influenced (in the Smithsonian's case, threatened with a Senate hearing) by what the public wants. They do not want to offend the delicate sensitivities of the public imagination. And so they leave out the controversy. They "let the objects speak for themselves" - a tactic which works sometimes, but, on occasion, fails to incite the thought process that is so heavily sought for. In their attempts to please both sides, the message of the events - of the people who fought, the people who prayed, the people who died - is lost.
Public museums are national treasures, and should be treated as such. But they should also be allowed the freedom to interpret events that is given to private museums. Public museums have just as much right as private museums to accurately portray history, and, because they are visited by so many Americans, they have a duty to do so. But by listening to the cries for patriotic correctness, they fall short of their calling, and portray only a partial portrait of history.
Which brings me to my main point: what is the true purpose of the public museum? And should it have to conform to public desires for "patriotic correctness"?
Public museums (and all museums, to be completely honest) are made available to the public in order to give them a place to connect with the past. "At long last," writes Mike Wallace, "the American past is as crowded, diverse, contentious, and fascinating as the American present" (302). And Americans are drawn to this. In a museum, people are given the chance to see things and form their own opinions, based either on the placards or simply on their own personal knowledge, instead of being taught one person's opinion. There is a chance that they can exit the museum with a greater respect and knowledge of the past than when they entered. Public museums (and private ones, as well) do a great service here to the American people.
However, some people want to see only certain versions of history that go along with how they view events. This is where the Enola Gay exhibit comes into play. The public attempted to determine what kind of history was displayed at the Smithsonian, and, in trying to fix what was deemed too radical, the Smithsonian eventually cut out everything and left only the plane. The members of the public wanted a more "patriotic" look at the events that led up to Hiroshima and Nagasaki, a look that portrayed Americans as heroes and the dropping of the bombs as vital to the ending of the war. The original copy for the exhibit showed doubts about the necessity of the bomb and the heroism of Americans - in fact, it was heavily criticized (unnecessarily, upon reading in context) for favoring and victimizing the Japanese.
Should public museums become "patriotically correct" - sticking to the mythological America, where Americans are strong and brave and can do no wrong?
No. They should not.
Do they often have the liberty to do so?
No.
By becoming "patriotically correct," history loses some of the things that make it interesting - the darkness must balance out the light. Americans fought in Vietnam as well as in World War II. The Holocaust involved not just Nazi soldiers and the German people, but people in Hungary and Vichy France. The French Revolution overthrew a corrupt monarchy, but it also led to the mass executions of hundreds of thousands of innocents. Americans dropped the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki and killed citizens.
The good has to be balanced by the bad.
By cleansing the viewpoint, we lose the balance. History becomes saccharine - sickly sweet, overly cheerful, like the Hollywood films of the 1930s and 1940s. The hero always triumphs. In the end, good wins out over evil, the hero can do no wrong, and all is right with the world. But that is not how history works.
Men who seemed to be able to only do good turn out to be maniacally evil. The best laid plans turn out to have catastrophic consequences. Nothing is as it seems on the surface.
However, public museums are often influenced (in the Smithsonian's case, threatened with a Senate hearing) by what the public wants. They do not want to offend the delicate sensitivities of the public imagination. And so they leave out the controversy. They "let the objects speak for themselves" - a tactic which works sometimes, but, on occasion, fails to incite the thought process that is so heavily sought for. In their attempts to please both sides, the message of the events - of the people who fought, the people who prayed, the people who died - is lost.
Public museums are national treasures, and should be treated as such. But they should also be allowed the freedom to interpret events that is given to private museums. Public museums have just as much right as private museums to accurately portray history, and, because they are visited by so many Americans, they have a duty to do so. But by listening to the cries for patriotic correctness, they fall short of their calling, and portray only a partial portrait of history.
Angeline,
ReplyDeletethis was a very thorough and enjoyable read. I think that you do a great job at both analyzing the information you are given and offering your insights on that information. Keep it up!
Thanks, Holly! I'm glad you enjoyed the post!
DeleteYou speak of balance, and so your post is just that- balanced. You explore both sides of the issue, and you arrive at a valuable insight. Great stuff!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Tusa! I'm glad you enjoyed it!
DeleteI like the way in which you discuss public museums in general before moving onto the issue of the Enola Gay. I agree with Tusa and Holly that you give a good sense of balance to both sides of the issue as well.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Maggie! I'm glad you enjoyed it!
Delete