In a monumental
but entirely predictable display of Chutzpah in History News
Network (3/21/05), Rutgers University professor of journalism
and New Republic senior editor David Greenberg has scoffed
at the author of The
Politically Incorrect Guide to American History as "a
hitherto unknown assistant professor at Suffolk Community College."
Presumably his workplace and supposed lack of academic fame disqualify
Tom Woods from speaking out on historical matters. With a superciliousness
that matches Greenberg’s, German historian Hans-Ulrich Wehler
recently expressed displeasure that conservative scholar Johannes
Rogalla von Bieberstein was not stopped by his employers from
publishing what became a bestseller in modern European history.
Bieberstein, after all, was a lowly librarian, not an "accredited
historical scientist," at Wehler’s university in Bielefeld.
What Wehler, a smug leftist anti-nationalist, failed to mention
was that Bieberstein had been a respected doctoral student of
the (now) politically incorrect Ernst Nolte. And if German universities
were as liberal as they had been under the Second Empire or the
Weimar Republic, Bieberstein, the worthy relative of a distinguished
interwar jurist at Freiburg, would not be stamping books but holding
a chair at his ideologically homogenized northwestern German university.
Greenberg
would have to be an even bigger fool than he shows himself to
be in his rant against Tom not to recognize the prevalent academic
bias. An extensive survey of students, faculty, and administrators
at colleges and universities in the U.S. and Canada, the North
American Academic Study Survey, carried out by the Ipsos-Reid
research firm in 1999, reveals what seem self-evident facts. For
those who, like Greenberg, may have trouble noticing them, Stanley
Rothman, S. Robert Lichter, and Neil Nevitte sum up these facts
in the most recent issue of Forum. Universities, and most
particularly those that finish near or at the top of the US
News rankings make no secret about their political prejudices.
The respondents to the survey are not only positioned on the far
left side of the Democratic Party, but also reserve a special
animus for religious Christians. Although scholarly achievements
would seem to matter most in determining institutional affiliation,
"the second most powerful predictor," and one that Rothman-Lichter-Nevitte
think is inextricably linked to any judgment of a candidate for
a job or promotion is "ideological." Moreover, in their
probing assessment of ideological variables, the survey’s interpreters
believe that "the role of Christian religiosity" is
critical: "Religiosity is negatively related to quality of
institutional affiliation among practicing Christians but not
among Jews." This of course should occasion no surprise,
since the regnant multicultural ideology on campuses present Jews,
like Muslims, as the victims of Western white Christian civilization.
And neither Jewish nor Muslim organizations have repudiated this
assigned victim role.
Needless
to say, a Latin Mass Catholic like Tom, who wears his Catholic
traditionalism on his sleeve, has about as much chance of succeeding
in the Euro-American academy as Hitler would at an Anti-Defamation
League conference. Even were he not busy exposing leftist misrepresentations,
Tom would not likely be the preferred candidate at Princeton or
Stanford for a professorship in American or any other kind of
history. The NAASS survey also indicates that, even if Tom were
working in the sciences, there too he would not likely be a rising
academic star. What has become obvious (but was not so in older
Carnegie Institute surveys) is that sciences faculties are turning
as militantly leftist and secularist as their counterparts in
the humanities, law and the social sciences. The once existing
ideological divide based on disciplines, which was apparent into
the eighties, according to the latest survey data, is being closed.
The hysteria that greeted the remarks by Harvard president Larry
Summers, for which he apologized multiple times, that significant
cognitive differences might exist between the genders, was hardly
a reaction limited to a few feminist nutcases. It came to include
a majority of the Harvard faculty, who viewed Summers’s slip from
PC as an aberration that required his immediate resignation. Greenberg
might not be noticing this situation, because, as Stan Rothman
stresses, groupthink is the rule in academic settings. People
live among and hire those who are like themselves.
I too have
taken lumps, most recently at the hands of David Frum in National
Review, for teaching at what has been called an obscure institution.
Were I worth my salt as a scholar, I would be somewhere else
with neocon notables and their fashionable liberal colleagues.
This charge astonishes me in view of the oft-heard neocon complaint
that good universities teem with leftists, who are persecuting
neocons and their friends. But if this were so, how does one account
for the neoconservative representation at such institutions
or the charge that those on the paleo Right who are not acceptable
at leftist universities are not scholars but mere publicists?
There is an explanation at hand: neoconservatives who have succeeded
at elite universities are in fact more like leftists than like
those on their right. They are chastened feminists or moderate
civil rights enthusiasts, who have partial reservations about
the way those social experiments they and their colleagues supported,
have turned out. Or they may be New Republic Zionists,
who fear the growing Arab presence on their campuses and have
therefore moved toward the neocons.
Greenberg
finds such less-than-rightwing "conservatives" totally
simpatico. He praises Max Boot, Cathy Young and Ronald Radosh
(the last a self-identified social democrat) as " conservatives"
who have "renounced (sic!) Woods’s book." But while
"these conservatives deserve credit" for their progressive
views, they have not been able to stop the brisk sale of the offending
text. One suspects that these generally PC "conservatives"
might nonetheless have their issues with Greenberg. For example,
they might have to interrupt his lunchtime diatribe against his
latest book subject, Richard Nixon, in order to point out that
this alleged communist-baiting anti-Semite was "good on Israel."
A point
that needs to be explored is why Tom and I have suffered similar
professional marginalization, despite the fact that we are separated
by at least thirty years and despite the fact that I could not
be mistaken for a Latin Mass Catholic. The reason may be the difficulty
of separating professional activity from what The Forum
article designates as "political ideology" and "partisan
orientation." The religious variable stands for a sociological
and cultural difference put forth as "Christian religiosity."
Scholarship, particularly in the humanities, that does not reflect
and substantiate a particular mindset, which is among other things
anti-Christian, anti-bourgeois, and anti-Southern white, will
not be seen in the proper circles as professional. Such swerving
to the dark side will bring forth the kind of snotty invective
Greenberg has unleashed against his youthful rightwing target.
My response to the tittering about conservatives hunkered down
at out-of-the-way schools is "where the hell would you expect
to find those who are at odds with the academic thought-police?"
In early
nineteenth-century England, a certain refreshing openness prevailed
about who was excluded from teaching at Oxford and Cambridge.
Lecturers and dons, like their students, were expected to be (at
least minimally) Anglican at these church-affiliated universities.
Today we practice infinitely worse intolerance while pretending
that we are pursuing openness and outreach. The old system of
outward confessional conformity (and yes sexism), for all its
failings, did not snuff out stimulating differences of opinion.
It was consistent with an intellectual diversity that would seem
in retrospect to have been "insensitive" or overly robust.
And it produced Leslie Stephen and Frederick William Maitland
rather than Stanley Fish, Cornell West and Catherine MacKinnon.
In what
might be thought to be a substantive point in his review, Greenberg
underlines Woods’s failure to discuss "the one large segment
of colonial America that did not come from England and that did
not share at least initially their religion or language."
Apparently Woods’s reliance on David Hackett-Fischer’s study of
the varying strains of English regional cultures that settled
colonial America can be traced partly to a desire to conceal "the
plight of oppressed minorities," particularly black slaves.
Greenberg
might have raised, but does not, an interesting demur about the
limits of Fischer’s argument in Albion’s
Seed, a classic that Woods consulted but does not quote
directly. Contrary to Fischer’s thesis about the diverse English
strains that produced foundational American cultures, one might
point to the German Pietist and French Huguenot settlements that
were concentrated in parts of colonial America or note the Scotch-Irish
and Celtic as opposed to pure English character that influenced
the South. Instead Greenberg goes on a tear about Woods’s callous
indifference to black suffering. While Woods explicitly mentions
there were black slaves and shows no detectable fondness for slavery,
he does commit a leftist sin of omission. He fails to beat up
on America as a white Christian society that has not operated
consistently by current liberal standards. Woods has pointedly
disregarded the politics of white Christian contrition. A devotee
of the cult of guilt, Greenberg cannot allow this to pass. He
must deal not only with Tom Woods, but also with something he
can’t quite get a handle on, the embarrassing fact that throngs
of people are buying and reading Tom’s book. And there have been
enough of these sinners around to push a "hitherto unknown"
and professionally unkosher historian onto the bestseller list.
No doubt Greenberg and those nice conservatives he pats on the
head can come up with a penance for all of them.
April
20, 2005