History News Network

Mr. Reeves is the author of A Question of Character: A Life of John F. Kennedy. His latest book is America's Bishop: The Life and Times of Fulton J. Sheen (Encounter, 2001). He's a Senior Fellow of the Wisconsin Policy Research Institute.

In early March, the University of Pennsylvania’s National Annenberg Election Survey discovered that only 43 percent of 634 adults questioned could correctly identify President Herbert Hoover. Twelve percent confused him with long-time FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover. Four percent linked his name to Hoover Dam in Nevada. Three percent associated the former Chief Executive with a brand of vacuum cleaner. Among those closest to their school years, aged 18 to 29, only 38 percent could identify Hoover in a political context.

The same survey discovered that only one out of five could connect actress Jane Fonda with the Vietnam War. (So calling John Kerry “Hanoi John” is obviously falling on deaf ears.) Nine percent of those surveyed connected Fonda to her exercise videos. Seventeen percent gave no answer at all.

There was some huffing and puffing about these findings in the elite media. But as one who taught in colleges with open door admission policies for more than three decades, I yawned at the survey. Nothing new here.

I discovered over the years that in survey classes freshmen and sophomores knew virtually nothing of the past, even the history of their own country. Their knowledge of current events was almost as dim. They were not alone. Historian Paul Gagnon of the University of Massachusetts recently reported, “Secondary and college students, and indeed most of the rest of us, have only a feeble grasp of politics and a vague awareness of history, especially the political history of the United States and the world.” Studies of eighth-graders and seniors at fifty top colleges and universities reveal appalling ignorance. (See www.washtimes.com/specialreport/20040328-125027-5592r.htm.) The new book Deliberation Day, by Bruce Ackerman and James S. Fishkin, concludes, “If six decades of modern public opinion research establish anything, it is that the general public’s political ignorance is appalling.”

For more than two decades, I gave a survey lecture on the meaning of Left and Right, telling students that this was vital knowledge in understanding the recent past and contemporary affairs. After explaining the basic differences for some 45 minutes, I would ask the class to submit names of famous people in our own time in order to place them on the ideological scale. Inevitably, there was silence. No one could think of anyone famous, outside of show business, except the president. Class discussion at this academic level was extraordinarily difficult to evoke.

Even worse, the vast majority of the young people in class had no desire to learn. Their approach to the survey course was quite simple: Tell me how much of this junk I have to memorize in order to pass. Linking the past to the present, one of the historian’s most valuable contributions, proved fruitless as virtually no one cared about either the past or present. What mattered was getting a degree, your ticket to the middle class, that indispensable sheet of paper that made you manager of the local MacDonald’s rather than just a lackey who asks if you want fries with the order. If the survey class involved any appreciable reading assignments, they either were ignored or students disappeared, often without even dropping the course. By the dawn of this century, my survey students were openly refusing to read even a single book.

The upper division history majors proved little better. They had seemingly forgotten almost everything they were supposed to learn in the survey courses. President Zachary who? Was McKinley before or after Coolidge? The New Deal was in the Thirties, right? They had firm opinions, of course, largely echoing the line virtually all of their professors had given them about sexism, racism, homophobia, and the like. But facts? Forget it. One senior told me, “I don’t do dates.”

One year, late in my career, I managed to fight through faculty roadblocks and offered a course in the history of American religion. I spent the entire semester explaining the most basic Sunday School terminology. Religion was something wholly outside student experience and of little serious interest. New Age was as foreign to them as Puritanism, Vatican II as strange as the Reformation.

On religion and the American public, see George Gallup, Jr. and Jim Castelli, The People’s Religion: American Faith in the 90’s, and One Nation Under God: Religion in Contemporary American Society by Barry A. Kosmin and Seymour P. Lachman. The former book documents “a nation of biblical illiterates.” Only four in ten Americans know that Jesus delivered the Sermon on the Mount. Three in ten teenagers do not know why Easter is celebrated. Fewer than half of all adults can name the four Gospels of the New Testament.

For those who seek to consult the public on matters of grave importance to the nation, I suggest that they try to learn what it means to be an average American. Watch some prime time television. Spend a week in a local high school. Glean the topics of conversation in bars and barber shops. Visit a class in Mass Communications at the average college. (Of more than 4,000 institutions of higher education in America, only a couple of hundred, at most, have high admission standards). Find out what most people depend upon for their information. See how many people can correctly date World War II, give the population of the city they live in, or tell you where their grandmother was born. And then read the results of those polls that ask about the seriousness of global warming, America’s internationalist perspective, the image of France, proper levels of U.S. defense spending, and Richard Clarke’s testimony on counterterrorism. To judge American foreign policy, you should at least be able to identify the Secretary of State and locate Iraq on a map. How many can?

The above is not a general statement about public virtues, of which there are many. It is not a reflection upon the futility of democracy, for no system is preferable. This is a statement of fact about public knowledge. Let us not pretend that most people know more than they actually do. Politicians and media leaders, for example, should be less eager to whip out the latest public opinion poll about the role of America in the Middle East, because most of those polled surely could not accurately define the Middle East or give you a cogent sentence about Islam. This commentary is not about snobbery. It’s about reality.

Not long ago a film critic in a prominent newspaper raved about “Rules of the Game,” a French movie made in 1939, saying that its greatness was so breathtaking that he saw it whenever he needed inspiration. Reading this, I checked a well-known movie review book, which awarded the film its highest rating. Then I read reviews on the Internet in which two people described the movie as hilarious and profound. So I was ready to lay out $30 for the DVD version.

Alas, the movie stank. It wasn’t slightly amusing, let alone hilarious. The story was tedious and painfully predictable. Hitler’s reason for banning it was no doubt about prohibiting a portrayal of the degenerate upper classes. But he might also have made the case that people could spend their time more profitably. I wish I had.

Throughout the course of my rather long life, I have been constantly amazed by critics in the arts and humanities who tell us that something is good, beautiful, and true when it clearly isn’t. I often have the feeling that they are reading each other and seeking to conform rather than observing what is before them. Many render judgments in order to avoid being thought out of step.

Movie critics, for example, are almost unanimous in continuing to declare “Citizen Kane” the greatest film ever made? Really? (To Orson Welles’s credit, he did not take movies very seriously, and said so publicly.) Have you never in your life seen anything better? I’ve enjoyed dozens of films I find superior, some of them not even on the recent list of the “100 best films.” How many of you have suffered through, say, “Persona,” “Last Year at Marienbad,” “L’Avventura,” “The Clock,” “Women in Love,” “International House,” “Without Love,” “Amadeus,” “Z,” “The Hospital,” “Idiot’s Delight,” “The Women,” “Red Desert,” “Mean Streets,” “Two English Girls,” or “La Lectrice” and wondered if the adoring critics needed psychiatric assistance? Doesn’t it take several funny cigarettes to make “2001: A Space Oddysey” enjoyable?

Jazz experts can send me up the wall in a hurry. For decades I have been aggravated by their lock-step views and the reverse racism evident in much of what they write. I am told that I may enjoy Charlie Mingus and Ornette Coleman but not Stan Kenton and Dave Brubeck. I must believe that Lester Young was a better tenor saxophone player than Stan Getz, and that Jo Jones was a better drummer than Buddy Rich. I am told that it is hip to dig Regina Carter. (I wish a court somewhere would declare jazz fiddle a cruel and unusual punishment.) One can lose all credibility in some circles for admiring the great bands led by Maynard Ferguson, Mel Lewis, Billy May, Les Brown or Bob Florence.

According to the PBS compendium of orthodox views on jazz assembled by Ken Burns, the splendid and much-recorded alto sax player Bud Shank apparently never existed. What would the culturally correct say about the brave soul who dared to contend that Miles Davis couldn’t hold Harry James’s trumpet case?

In recent years, the descent of jazz, along with almost everything else in popular culture, has made things worse for those seeking quality. The critics, as usual, don't help. Does Michael Brecker’s album “Wide Angles” make you want to bang your head against the wall? Nope, I must like it. Does the music of Stafano di Batista make you prefer a root canal procedure on two teeth? Tough, he’s great. Is Kurt Elling the worst jazz male vocalist of all time? I must admire him. Now we are told that Norah Jones is a world class jazz singer. Why not Dolly Parton too? They both sound great in an elevator.

Art critics? Where does one begin? How many “masterpieces” of modern art appear to have been done with a roller? It’s hard to walk through an art museum these days with a straight face. Sometimes the crude cement marks on the walls left by construction workers (primitive art?) have more appeal than the works on exhibition.

And what of the “insider” reaction to many of the widely acknowledged works of great art? Here is Jacques Derrida on Van Gogh’s famous painting of a pair of peasant shoes: “If the laces are loosened, the shoes are indeed detached from the feet and in themselves. But I return to my question: they are also detached, by this fact, one from the other and nothing proves that they form a pair. If I understand aright, no title says ‘pair of shoes’ for this picture. Whereas elsewhere…Van Gogh speaks of another picture, specifying ‘a pair of shoes.’ Is it not the possibility of the ‘unpairedness’ (two shoes for the same foot, for example, are more the double of each other but this double simultaneously fudges both pair and identity, forbids complementarity, paralyzes directionality, causes things to squint toward the devil), is not the logic of this false parity, rather than of this false identity, which constructs this trap? The more I look at this painting, the less it looks as though it could walk.” I’ve read worse, but not much.

The famous French philosopher brings to mind, of course, Lit Crit. Gender, race, Marxism, and deconstructionism dominate the fashionable world of literature. The program at the annual meeting of the Modern Language Association reads like science fiction when not a parody on academic scholarship. If the most learned critics can’t be trusted, how does one know what to read, especially when one must go largely to leftist journals and magazines to find reviews? The New Criterion, a monthly journal, is always stimulating and unorthodox, but its scope is of necessity limited. The recent appointment of moderate and sensible Sam Tanenhaus as book review editor of the New York Times promises a breath of fresh air for readers.

Much more might be said, of course. My point is that one must see, hear, think, and judge for oneself. God surely gave us minds and free wills to exercise independent thought. Many critics in the arts and humanities, and the fans who read them, prefer to be lemmings. Let us not join their ranks.

I’ve been reading and hearing of late that John Kerry is the “new JFK.” The frequent presence of Ted Kennedy at his colleague’s side emphasizes the connection in many minds. As a Kennedy biographer, I find the thought provocative.

First, the similarities (beyond the initials). Kerry and Kennedy were both born into wealth and privilege; they attended exclusive prep schools, enjoyed summers in Europe, and fraternized almost exclusively with others of equal rank. Kerry went to Yale, Kennedy to Harvard. (Kerry is probably the better mind of the two; JFK’s I.Q. was 119, only a point ahead of his assassin, Lee Harvey Oswald.) Both served in the Armed Forces and saw overseas combat in wartime. (Kerry’s record was distinguished, Kennedy’s was, at best, mixed—despite the subsequent spin.) Kerry is a professional politician from Massachusetts, and so was Kennedy. Both served in the Senate. (If elected, Kerry would join Kennedy and Warren G. Harding as the only candidates who moved directly from the Senate to the White House.) Kerry is a very liberal Democrat, and JFK was a Democrat who, late in his life, especially after the death of his dominating and reactionary father, showed a growing capacity for accepting liberal positions. Both men made vast promises of government action on behalf of the masses.

Kennedy was often easily rattled, especially by critics. His conduct during the Bay of Pigs fiasco was disastrous, and his handling of the Cuban Missile Crisis remains controversial. He was confused as well as rattled in his approach to American involvement in Vietnam. JFK’s capacity for revenge against his detractors may be seen in the clandestine, expensive, and failed program called “Operation Mongoose” that he and his brother Bobby designed to murder Fidel Castro.

Kerry appears to become infuriated by Republican criticisms, and lashes out impulsively. Not long ago he described Republicans opposing him as “the most crooked, you know, lying group I’ve ever seen.” When recently challenged to name the international leaders who, he claimed, have quietly favored his election, he exclaimed, “I’m not going to betray a private conversation with anybody” and snapped, “That’s none of your business.” He then began attacking the man who raised the question, demanding that he tell everyone how he voted in the last election. Kerry seems never to have discovered a single positive feature about the President or his Administration, and at times he resembles a dour and sanctimonious Cotton Mather inveighing against Satan.

Kennedy, his father’s son, could be quite cynical about politics and campaigning and was not above using high-minded issues like civil rights for his own political gain. Kerry’s long voting record, as Republicans enjoy documenting, shows a tendency to flip-flop on an assortment of issues. Having condemned the Bush Doctrine, he now says, after the bombing in Spain, “I don’t fault George Bush for doing too much in the war on terror, as some do. I believe he’s done too little.” Just before voting against a major appropriation to fund the war in Iraq, he publicly condemned any Senator who would do just that. He said recently, “I actually did vote for the $87 billion before I voted against it.” On abortion, he seems to be both for and against it. George Melloan has observed that “the agile Bostonian is adept at straddling any issue and taking it to both the right and left simultaneously.”

A recent New York Times/CBS News poll found that nearly 6 in 10 registered voters surveyed said that Kerry told people what they wanted to hear, rather than what he believed.

But there are important differences between the two men. Kennedy capitalized on his good looks, married a stunningly attractive young woman with considerable intellect and acting ability, and employed a brilliant writer, Ted Sorensen, to make him appear to be both eloquent and wise. He selected historian Arthur Schlesinger, Jr. to serve in the White House and write his history, no doubt knowing full well that the taste of authority would yield perpetual adulation. (The Kennedy family continues to give primary sources to historians they are confident will say positive things about the late Chief Executive.) The public still revels in JFK’s filmed performances and cleverly staged photographs. Kennedy was at all times vitally interested in his public image.

Kerry comes across as a rather nasty pol, given to invective in his speeches and remarks, and almost void of charm and wit. He’s sort of a tall Michael Dukakis. Kerry’s wife has yet to reveal anything distinguishable beyond her vast wealth. If Kerry has selected exceptional people to serve on his behalf, they have yet to surface. One would take Ted Kennedy more seriously if he came clean on the death of the young woman who was his companion at Chappaquiddick in 1969. (See www.ytedk.com.) The very thought of Howard Dean in the Cabinet could keep millions awake at night. Might there be a place in the Democratic administration for George Carlin? On the other hand, Kerry would have no difficulty in finding a professional historian eager to serve as his official sycophant.

On the vital issue of character, Kerry appears to be the winner hands down, virtually by default. Kennedy was the most scandalous President in American history. He makes Bill Clinton seem like a Walt Disney character. The story of JFK’s serial adultery, drug use, mob ties, lies, and secret illnesses has been amply documented. I find testimony by the President’s Secret Service agents, in Seymour Hersch’s Dark Side of Camelot, especially interesting. Kennedy’s recklessness might have been disastrous for the entire nation had he lived to run for a second term.

John Kerry, in short, might or might not make an acceptable President. We should learn more about him between now and November. But let us not pretend that he is the “new JFK.” Indeed, let us hope he is not.

When asked on television recently if the victory in Iraq was worth the lives of the 564 military personnel killed, Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld replied, “Oh, my goodness, yes. There’s just no question….25 million people in Iraq are free.” Yesterday, Rumsfeld drew parallels from recent American history to justify the war in Iraq, references that should spark reflection by all thoughtful people.

Let us ask: Were the lives of 322,000 Americans lost in World War II worth the victory? Were we wise to invest our energy and billions of dollars in the postwar period to employ the Marshall Plan and NATO to save Western Europe from Communist aggression? What about the 140,000 American casualties in the Korean War? And how about the 58,000 dead and 300,000 wounded in Vietnam? Aren’t we supremely arrogant to believe, with Woodrow Wilson, that we have an obligation to make the world safe for democracy? Isn't the staggeringly high national debt at least in part a reflection of our misguided altruism? Why don’t we simply tend to our own business, as generations of isolationists have demanded?

The truth is that isolationism is no longer taken very seriously in modern America. Ask Pat Buchanan. The issue was largely settled at Pearl Harbor, and the collapse of the Soviet Union illustrated for all time the effectiveness of American resolve, diplomatically and militarily. I can’t imagine even Al Sharpton questioning our efforts in WWII or Korea. Vietnam, of course, remains a controversial conflict. Today, critics of the war in Iraq, largely Democrats and their liberal allies in the media, are not suggesting that the United States pull back into a shell; they acknowledge that America, the world’s only superpower, has vast international responsibilities. (After voting against a major appropriation to fund the war in Iraq, John Kerry now backs our presence there and blames the President for failing to provide our troops with sufficient military equipment.) But the responsible Left raises many important questions that go beyond isolationism. Is the effort in Iraq feasible? How much money and how many American lives is it worth? Has the war made terrorism worse? Would our bold endeavor have been more effective and acceptable throughout the world had we worked under the United Nations?

The September 11, 2001 attack on the United States produced a widespread national commitment to wage an aggressive war against terrorists. Congress agreed with the President that we had to take serious security measures at home and carry the battle to those areas that nurtured terrorists. Evidence provided by intelligence sources over several years in the United States and throughout Europe pointed to Iraq as the most dangerous spot in the Middle East; we were told that Saddam Hussein’s weapons of mass destruction were a threat to the security of all free nations. The United Nations showed no stomach for direct intervention. France, Germany, and Russia were emphatically opposed. (Rumors of Iraqi bribes to leading UN, French, and Russian officials are now under scrutiny.) And so the United States decided to use its wealth and power to undertake the security measure by itself, aided by a handful of troops from a coalition of 34 countries, including eleven in NATO. (John Kerry called the nations a “coalition of the bribed, the coerced, the bought and the extorted.”) Victory was extraordinarily swift. But now what?

We have failed, at least so far, to find any weapons of mass destruction. Incredibly, all of that intelligence received by world leaders was apparently wrong. As weapons inspector Hans Blix has suggested, part of the problem may be that Iraqi defectors were telling Western authorities what they wanted to hear in order to liberate their country. The United Nations, threatened with violence, has fled Iraq and not returned. France remains angry. Spain, in response to terrorist bombings, has thrown its pro-American government out of office and promises to withdraw its troops from Iraq. (The new anti-war Socialist leader has openly endorsed John Kerry.) Bitter armed resistance, albeit from a tiny minority of Iraqis and outsiders, has illustrated the inability of the Bush Administration and the United States military to plan and carry out a completely effective postwar reconstruction effort. More Americans have been killed in the postwar period that during the war itself.

Still, there are many positive developments that require attention. Despite Shiite reservations, democracy in Iraq seems to be working. Iraqis should soon live under a constitution that protects minority rights and religious liberty. (Ask Iraqi women if their lives were better under Hussein. Or ask the Kurds.) Under American leadership and funding, the country is being rebuilt: roads have been repaired, electricity has returned, schools and universities are operating, businesses are open, the nation’s oil is flowing at almost at pre-war levels, 70,000 Iraqi police have been trained, there is a national currency and a central bank. All within a year. Moreover, as a result of our efforts, the terrorist leader of Libya has become responsive to American overtures of friendship and peace. Relations with the government of Pakistan have been positive throughout the struggle.

I believe Defense Secretary Rumsfeld to be correct: Our investment in Iraq has been well worth the price, both in dollars and, regrettably, blood. (Fewer than 400 American troops have died in battle.) If a Muslim nation the size of Iraq can be turned into a prosperous democracy, it can be an inspiration for the entire Middle East, an area in which stability and friendship are vital to the security of the United States. (Observe the current price of gasoline and the Iranian machinations over nuclear weaponry.) I would hope that America, in the spirit of our efforts in Europe and East Asia, can retain its resolve in Iraq, fighting terrorism and bringing freedom, education, and prosperity to people who have suffered terribly under a savage dictator. If critics can suggest nothing more potent than putting the entire reconstruction effort under the umbrella of the often inept and corrupt United Nations, they could better spend their time. Had we bowed to the UN earlier, Saddam Hussein would still be in power and his people in chains.

If the daring effort by the United States in Iraq is successful, the Bush Administration will surely claim much credit in the future from fair-minded historians. Should it all end in failure, of course, the exact opposite seems certain. If the current level of violence is not lowered or the constitutional government leads to civil war, which is certainly possible, we will have another Vietnam on our hands, and the public response everywhere will be dramatic. I can easily envision the return of leftist sit-ins, demonstrations, and riots.

It cannot be said too often that the struggle is just underway in the war against terrorism. The Iraqi war is the cornerstone of that critical global struggle. Secretary of State Powell said yesterday that this is not the time to retreat because the safety of “the whole civilized world is at stake.” Let us hope, even in the heat of an election campaign, that our arguments remain responsible and our language cool. A failure in Iraq would be a disaster for the 25 million people living there and American foreign policy in general. A victory could have positive, long-range implications for the world.

Many conservative commentators today bemoan the state of the nation's morality, arguing that America's elites especially have abandoned objective, Bible-based standards, our guide since the earliest colonial settlements, and have embraced moral relativism. Syndicated columnist Cal Thomas, a conservative and Protestant fundamentalist, wrote recently, "If you tell me you do not believe in God, but then say to me that I should brake for animals or pay women equally or help the poor, on what basis are you making such an appeal? If there's no standard for objective truth, law, wisdom, justice, charity, kindness, compassion and fidelity in the universe, then what you are asking me to accept is an idea that has taken hold in your head but that has all of the moral compulsion of a bowl of cereal."

I doubt that many historians would agree with Thomas, not only because most of them are on the Left but because they know that morality is an extremely complex subject. Historians are aware, for example, of moral guidelines that preceded Judeo-Christian teaching. Any form of civilization depends upon agreed rules of behavior. Historians know that moral standards exist outside the narrow confines of the world in which Christianity has dominated. They know that Judeo-Christian teaching has changed considerably over the centuries. They can easily verify the existence in our own time of a variety of moral interpretations among equally sincere and learned Jews and Christians. And they can point to many moral teachings, some of them quite lofty, espoused by thinkers who rejected the existence of a Creator or found Him so remote as to be of no importance.

Still, Thomas and his allies on the Right have a point. One of the dogmas of contemporary education, at all levels, is the contention that all theologies and systems of morality are to be considered equal. To think otherwise is to be branded a bigot or worse. This world view is indeed far outside the boundaries of traditional American thought. But so much the better say the teachers and professors, for we have moved outside the restraints of an intolerant and ignorant past. We have become "progressive."

But are these educators truly espousing moral relativism? I seriously doubt it. What has been going on in the West, in my judgment, at least from the so-called Enlightenment of the 18th century, has been not so much the growth of moral relativism as the development of a different set of moral standards. When the French Revolutionaries were killing Catholic priests and nuns, they did not proceed to advocate moral anarchy; they did not declare that everyone was now free to murder, plunder, and rape. The substitution in the Enlightenment of reason as the source of truth, rather than Christian revelation and tradition, assumed the ability of all men and women to comprehend a common understanding of what truth is when properly informed. It was a leap of faith in the basic goodness and rationality of the human race. If this secular faith was hopelessly naive, as the history of the twentieth century seems to prove conclusively, it nevertheless did not teach that each man was a law unto himself or that morality was entirely relative. (Similarly, Martin Luther did not assume that each person would create an individual interpretation of the Bible; he believed that all Protestants would see the light in the same way.)

In the twentieth century, especially in the 1920s and the 1960s, new moral standards were embraced, first by influential elites and eventually by the public as a whole. The liberation of women (weighed down with heavy clothing, frequently pregnant, confined, considered too emotionally unstable and stupid to vote in the Victorian Era) was an expression of a new moral certitude. So was the Civil Rights movement that Martin Luther King spoke of so eloquently. In time, both movements were embraced by virtually all Christians, agnostics, and atheists virtually everywhere in the West.

We now face a new set of moral declarations, often well thought out and eloquently argued. These "truths" are not based on the whims of individuals, advocates argue, but are rooted, somehow, in the very nature of existence itself. Homosexual advocates and their allies (often Christians in the liberal denominations) base their claims upon a universal sense of justice, equality, and fairness; so do the proponents of racial preferences and multiculturalism. Their belief in the universality of the "truth" they espouse is seen not only in their formal justifications for their actions but in the urgency of advocates to transform their beliefs into law. Unbelievers should be punished; they have violated sacred dogmas. The editorial page of the Wall Street Journal declared recently, "Secular absolutism is becoming the most potent religious force in America. Meet the new face of intolerance."

Upon what do we base our morals? Is there a more important issue? Cal Thomas asks, "How does a nation that has tolerated 40 million abortions suddenly acquire a moral sense about same-sex marriage?" That question needs many thoughtful replies. At present, it is largely ignored in the liberal media.

The Culture War is less of a struggle between Christian believers and moral relativists than it is a clash between two formidable and historic views of life and truth, one based on reason, secularism, and hedonism, and the other on Christian tradition and Biblical teaching. (On homosexuality, for example, see Romans I, 26-27, omitted in the lectionary of the Episcopal Church in 1979.) History plays a role too: Which faith has produced more happiness, stability, virtue, and hope? And on the last item, let us not overlook the issue of eternity, which to Christians is the real point of life on this fragile and dangerous globe.

How do we decide which side is right? On what should we base our laws? Currently, we seem to be leaving the great moral decisions to nine unelected lawyers, the Supreme Court. And we work feverishly to elect politicians, usually more lawyers, who will appoint the "right" judges. Surely the world's most prosperous and powerful democracy, whose citizens boast the highest level of education in history, can come up with better alternatives.

Why not create a series of discussions, perhaps under the auspices of one or more of our opulent philanthropic foundations, on precisely these issues? In the first round, recruit a well-balanced mix of distinguished people with great minds and outstanding character. And then create a series featuring average American citizens, the forgotten people who keep the country running with their hard work, patriotism, and taxes. Broadcast all of the discussions live on C-Span and preserve tapes for future sales. And then start similar discussions in each state and community. Why not attempt to rise above the shallow television talk show, the shouting of radio ideologues, the cynical promises of politicians, and the slyly partisan decrees of judges? Why not?

I have recently been studying the Kohler Strike of 1934, the initial fracas in a lengthy and famous struggle between the Wisconsin plumbing supply company and organized labor. The only complete account is in Walter H. Uphoff’s Kohler On Strike: Thirty Years Of Conflict, published by Beacon Press in 1966. I’ve been working with primary sources.

The Kohler Company, founded in 1873, was led in 1934 by Walter J. Kohler, Sr., a son of the founder and a former Republican Governor of Wisconsin. The corporation was largely family-owned, employed more than 2,000 workers, and had been highly successful until the Great Depression. Kohler kept his employees at work at full pay as long as he could, but in February, 1931, he began to cut back on jobs and salaries. In 1932, the company lost nearly two million dollars, and a year later it lost nearly $700,000. In 1934, the company was losing money at the rate of a million dollars a year.

Kohler was sharply critical of Franklin D. Roosevelt and the New Deal, but when Congress passed the National Industrial Recovery Act in 1933, stating for the first time that workers “had the right to organize and bargain collectively through representatives of their own choosing,” the plant owner met his legal obligations fully, signing certificates of compliance with the several NRA codes covering its line of manufacturing. But he could not abide the Union Shop, the demand that all of his workers, if a majority so chose, would be led by a single authority. Indeed, he did not interpret the labor law in this way. In response to organizing efforts by the American Federation of Labor, the Kohler Workers’ Association was created. By July 1, 1934 it had more than 1,800 members. AFL leaders sneeringly branded it a company union.

On July 17, 1934, the local AFL union suddenly called a strike. Ten days later, a riot broke out outside the plant and much company property was destroyed. In response, special deputies, hired by the local community, used tear gas and bullets to quell the disturbance. Two workers were killed, and 43 others were wounded and injured. The National Guard had to be summoned to restore order. Walter Kohler blamed the violence and destruction on Communists and other outside agitators. AFL leaders blamed Kohler exclusively.

Following a lengthy investigation of the strike, and a landmark ruling that majority rules in collective bargaining, the National Labor Relations Board ordered an election by secret ballot to be held. The "company union" won overwhelmingly. The AFL officially conceded only in 1941 as war orders began to pour into the plant.

Uphoff makes the strike of 1934 part of a larger story: A second Kohler strike lasted from 1954 to 1965. In the second, and even more intense, labor struggle, company activity was officially condemned by the National Labor Relations Board. To Uphoff, who conducted extensive research over many years on this topic, this was a struggle between the forces of darkness (the company) and the forces of light (the AFL).

But the careful historian should ask a number of important questions as he wrestles with the 1934 strife. For example: Who was Uphoff? Does it matter that he was the Socialist party candidate for Governor of Wisconsin in 1932 and the Socialist candidate for the Senate two years later? Is it important to know that he was an economist rather than an historian? And who was Walter J. Kohler, Sr.? Does it matter that he was greatly admired for his personal integrity, hard work, philanthropy, personal kindness, and civic responsibility as well as his business acumen? What does his creation of the widely admired industrial community, Kohler Village, and the American Club, for new immigrants working at the company, reveal about his character? Does it matter that the second strike occurred when the company was under different management, and that Herbert Kohler, Sr., in charge in 1954, was a quite different person from his half-brother?

And what exactly were the facts in the 1934 dispute? What were the economic and human demands at stake? Who was responsible for the violence and bloodshed? Why were compromises so extraordinarily difficult to achieve during and after the struggle? What did Kohler workers truly think about their employer? Who was behind the creation of the Kohler Workers’ Association? What larger issue did American Federation of Labor officials have in mind when calling the strike? What was the role of “outsiders” in the strike? (Only 17 of the 43 wounded or injured were employees or former employees of the Kohler Company.)

My research tells me already that this dramatic and colorful story cannot adequately be reduced to good versus evil. The truth is almost always about grays rather than blacks and whites.

The glory of historical research is in its thoroughness and objectivity. Until the rise of political correctness, that was a given in the graduate training of historians. In my judgment, we will be credible and valuable only to the degree that we are unlike the ideology-driven journalists who dominate the media. Facts don’t necessarily speak for themselves, of course, and most historians will admit that they fall short of their aspirations. But let us set our goals as high as possible. Let us produce scholarly books and articles that will let readers know we are scholars, not just partisans.

In 1948, Republicans were confident that they could not lose the presidential election. The polls showed Thomas Dewey easily defeating incumbent Harry S. Truman; indeed, the lead was such that pollsters quit the race weeks before people went to the polls. In November, the G.O.P. suffered shock when Truman pulled off an upset victory. To this day, American history textbooks routinely show the photograph of a jubilant Truman holding up the front page of the reactionary Chicago Tribune reporting his defeat.

What followed the upset was the ugliest chapter in the history of the Republican Party. Intensely frustrated over being denied the White House for fifteen years, and vowing to use any methods at their disposal, G.O.P. leaders employed Cold War frustrations to their advantage and launched an assault upon their political opponents that came to be known as the Second Red Scare. While the roots of the “Reds in high places” campaign can be found in the early Truman years, the full-scale attack upon the administration and upon Democrats and liberals in general burst onto the political scene after the election of 1948. It took Senator Joe McCarthy a while to grasp what was happening and turn it to his advantage. But in early 1950 his sweeping accusations and reckless tactics, soon called "McCarthyism," achieved worldwide attention, and the attack on “Commiecrats” became the major theme in American politics. It helped the G.O.P. win in 1952. So powerful was the vicious slander, however, that even the Eisenhower victory could not immediately stop it. (Yes, there were Reds in high places, but McCarthy and his allies were almost entirely unaware of the genuine articles.) Historians have been arguing ever since about the overall impact of the Second Red Scare, but few deny that it was considerable.

I wonder if in our own time the Left, represented by the Democratic Party, isn’t suffering from the sort of trauma that gripped the G.O.P. in the late 1940s and early 1950s. Millions on the Left were outraged by the impeachment of Bill Clinton. Reexamine some of the wild and almost violent language employed during that crisis. And then came the upset election of 2000 and the near hysterical hatred of George W. Bush that followed. It isn’t that he was merely wrong to go into Iraq, says Senator Ted Kennedy; Bush planned and executed the war for purely political reasons (and thus is a liar and a traitor). Highly active in the John Kerry campaign, Kennedy declared on March 5 that the Republican administration was guilty of “pure unadulterated fear-mongering” and said that “no president who misleads the country on the need for war deserves to be re-elected.”

The Left is extremely agitated about the upcoming election. At a Kerry rally the other day, the audience booed and hissed at the very mention of Vice President Cheney. The sudden drive for homosexual marriage, the fears about confirming conservative judges, the terror about a possible repeal of Roe V. Wade (or constraining any form of sexual license) and the like have fueled the Culture War to a fever pitch. Frustrations over the war in Iraq add to the tension and are being exploited by Democrats throughout the country. John Kerry, who has a long history of voting against defense spending, now contends that the Administration is failing to properly equip our troops. The major media, having moved considerably to the Left since the McCarthy years, are intensifying the tension, routinely demonizing the president and the G.O.P. in general. The 24-hour-a-day news stations threaten to drive the nation, or at least the media moguls themselves, into a frenzy over the next nearly eight months before the election.

The contest appears, at this very early stage, to be a neck and neck race. What if the Democrats lose? Might we not expect an explosion of such irresponsibility as we have not seen since 1948? Can you imagine, say, Ted Kennedy and Tom Daschle politely returning to their Senate duties? Would Hillary Clinton and Nancy Pelosi meekly submit to the will of the electorate? Would the Deaniacs and Naderites go quietly about their own business? Would America’s campuses be more tolerant of the politically incorrect? Would Hollywood cheerily acknowledge the strength of American conservatism and begin to make films without obscenity, blasphemy, and national self-hatred? And what about judicial activists, the New York Times and its many wanabees, C.B.S. News, and Newsweek? Would we not see a ferocious attack from all the ranks of the Left that would intensify the Culture War and possibly tear the country apart to a degree that we haven’t seen since the Civil War?

There is, in short, a case for hoping that Democrats win in November. The victory would surely stop a new and perhaps more deadly form of McCarthyism in its tracks. The larger question, however, is whether or not this country can survive a victory of the Left. Now that’s a question that needs some responsible debate.

On March 2, the Wall Street Journal ran an article painfully familiar to all of us in the humanities and social sciences: college and university students, we were told, are overwhelmingly career-minded, eager to land a job quickly after graduation and make a fortune. This means that they have little time for courses that focus upon what was once considered vital for an educated person: courses in history, philosophy, theology, literature, the classics, art, government, and foreign languages. Vocational education (often mere training), in short, is the norm.

The director of career services at Emory University said, “Competition [for jobs] is more intense than ever before, and I think these students and their parents realize that.” The executive director of the Duke University career center complained that students arrive on campus “prepackaged and not willing to explore different options.” Part of the passion for prosperity is the repayment of student loans. Over the past decade, average tuition and fees rose 47% at four-year public colleges and 42% at private colleges. Moreover, today’s students lived through the dot-com crash and a painfully long recession. One student quoted in the Wall Street Journal piece said, “I know what it’s like to be at the mercy of the economy. Watching my parents go through that increases the pressure to be successful.”

This approach to higher education is nothing new, of course, and can be traced far beyond the slump in Silicon Valley and the stock market. Pragmatists in the late 19th and early 20th centuries were encouraging the creation of an education that met the immediate needs of students. The expansion of democracy virtually mandated the alteration of traditional educational requirements. In the 1920s, with the creation of campus business schools, it became fashionable to plan one’s education around courses that would “pay off.” The G.I. Bill, following World War II, accelerated the process. In 1958, I was thought slightly loopy for graduating with a history major. I fended off my critics by assuring them that history was a good preparation for law school. (In fact, it wasn’t. I should have majored in business. After a year of utter boredom, I switched to the history graduate program. Yes, I was preparing for a teaching career; I was myself vocationally minded.)

Frankly, I have no quarrel with the students. The desire to avoid unemployment and enjoy the many pleasures of financial security is certainly understandable. My complaint is with the faculty and administrators who fail to require young people to receive a basic liberal arts education in the course of their vocational preparation. The only thing now required of all students is basic English, and recent reports reveal that to be a shaky endeavor. I will never understand the failure of historians to defend their discipline when the graduation requirements are drawn up. The vast majority of college graduates have taken no history since high school. No doubt this helps explain the absence of serious, learned, and thoughtful books in the “best seller” lists and the presence of a blatantly anti-intellectual tone in our politics at all levels.

There has long been resistance to the growth of vocationalism in American higher education, of course. I used to work for Robert M. Hutchins, who devoted much of his long and distinguished career at the University of Chicago and elsewhere to reversing the impact of John Dewey and his allies. There have always been impressive liberal arts programs on campuses all across the nation. The “Great Books” colleges have provided many of them with guidance and inspiration.

Today, interestingly, the American in charge of Iraq’s higher education system is John Agresto, the retired president of St. John’s College in Santa Fe, New Mexico, a “great books” campus. The United States is pouring funds and manpower into the restoration of the nation’s shattered academic community. In the course of leading this effort, Agresto makes quite a case for the liberal arts, declaring that “Democracy depends on people thinking for themselves and asking questions.” He believes that “Through a liberal education [the Iraqi people] may find they have a capacity in music or art of literature or ask more philosophical questions in their discipline. I’m not sure what good it is to free a country without freeing their mind.”

Would that more academics in this country, especially historians, would ponder this challenging thesis anew.

Leftists routinely sneer at the Fox News Network for its pretentiousness, which is considerable, but their major complaint is that the Network presents conservative as well as liberal viewpoints. For those who think that all positions taken by the right are by definition wrong and stupid, it is a waste of time, if not dangerous, to air them.

Many on the far left and right wish to see and hear only what they believe to be the truth. If Paul Krugman answers all my questions, why do I want to read Charles Krauthammer? If Rush Limbaugh tells me all I need to know, why bother even considering arguments by Maureen Dowd?

I find this intolerance of others’ views extraordinarily strong on the left, especially since the upset election of 2000 and the almost maniacal hatred of President Bush that is an inevitable feature of fashionable cocktail parties on both coasts. Almost every day I receive reports from the National Association of Scholars and the Foundation for Individual Rights in Education of incidents on American campuses of the persecution of conservative students and professors. Scholarly organizations often seem far less interested in debate about current events than taking predictable positions that favor the left. The nation’s major newspapers, led by the New York Times, pay only the faintest attention to positions taken by the right, and then only to illustrate error. The latest leftist cause, Gay marriage, has few enemies among the media elite, despite public opinion to the contrary. My Sunday newspaper, the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, read today like a flyer from a wedding mill in San Francisco. Isn’t sodomy a civil right if not a virtue? Need we ask? And the leftist writers and cartoonists don’t ask, they merely preach.

The Culture War in the West is the greatest struggle facing us. In this battle, the left and right have largely opposing views of what a meaningful, happy, and productive life truly is. And each side has anchored its beliefs on different foundations. I contend that we are all better off if we fully explore the entire spectrum of views, carefully and respectfully. And let us focus especially hard on the sources of truth each side claims to be the basis of their beliefs.

In this regard, I would appeal for a more fair and balanced examination of the link between Christianity and morality, both private and public. As things now stand, Christianity is largely dismissed by the media giants and the intellectuals. It is largely an invisible topic, as illustrated everywhere by the pathetic columns devoted to church matters in the Saturday newspapers. (The success of Mel Gibson’s new film "The Passion Of The Christ" has no doubt stunned politically correct opinion leaders throughout the country, who have been reduced to warning of the movie’s possible anti-Semitism.)

In 2001, my book America’s Bishop: The Life of Fulton J. Sheen, published by Encounter Books, failed to be reviewed by a single major newspaper or magazine, a fate I had never before experienced as an author. Sheen was arguably the most important Catholic of twentieth century America. But he was a good man and an orthodox Churchman, and was thus of no interest whatsoever to the media. Now if he had only been a pedophile….

Father Richard John Neuhaus, both in his brilliant books and in his stimulating journal First Things, has for years been trumpeting the need for thoughtful consideration of the role of the nation’s most popular religion and the public square. Why not begin a national dialogue, by both left and right, on where this nation has been and where it is going? To do this, both the left and right need to be respectful of each other. And both sides should dig deeply into their own presuppositions about the nature of reality. Can we not rise above politics and name-calling and think about the deepest issues facing us? Must we rely upon partisan judges and constitutional amendments to set our course? In short, can we not summon the intellectual resources to speak about our differences in a fair and balanced way?

Several observers of the 2004 presidential election campaign have contended that the critical issue in the race is the war in Iraq. Others have said that the fate of the economy will determine the outcome. In my judgment, the premier campaign issue is sex.

First, the non-issues. Few in the mainstream of either political party really want to cut and run in Iraq. They understand that there’s a war on terror underway and that America and its allies have made a commitment in Iraq, in lives and money, that cannot be simply and immediately curtailed. If Al Sharpton and Ralph Nader can’t see this, more responsible candidates can. Moreover, there is a powerful sentiment alive and well throughout this country that America has a moral duty to come to the aid of repressed and suffering people. Iraq certainly qualifies. Making the world safe for democracy has arguably been the primary component in American foreign policy since Woodrow Wilson. Read President Bush on the need to rid the world of tyrants and help the poor and persecuted. In this general commitment, he is firmly within the path followed by all recent Chief Executives. Some Democrats are now talking about going into strife-ridden Haiti.

The economy will rise and fall largely on its own, for reasons that remain elusive and highly debatable. A President can in fact do little about productivity, unemployment, the national debt, and so on. Candidates who harp about jobs know deep in their heart that if elected they will be largely helpless in creating and preserving employment for America’s average workers. Job destruction in manufacturing has averaged about ten percent a year over several decades. In the service sector, the normal toll is even higher. For more details, see Holman W. Jenkins, Jr., “Jobs, Jobs, Jobs (Fibs, Fibs, Fibs),” in the Wall Street Journal, February 25, 2004, p. A15. As for taxes, well, sooner or later they always go up, don’t they? Just like Congressional spending.

What clearly divides the candidates and the parties is the issue of sex. I’m talking, of course, about a major component of the Culture War, the most significant battle of our time, here and throughout the West. People can become excited more quickly about sexual license in the media, abortion on demand, partial birth abortion, homosexual demands, and sex education in the schools, than almost anything else.

On the one extreme, say in Hollywood, sexual intercourse exists simply for recreation. In the movies, beautiful people climb into bed with each other without the slightest scruple. On the other side of the ideological scale, say devout Catholics, sex is something sacred, and largely designed by the Creator for procreation. How to start a fight: Ask each side to define “family” and “sin.” Most people surely find themselves somewhere between these inflexible positions, wrestling with how to keep their kids happy and free from disease and unwanted pregnancy and wondering about the morality and practical impact of gay marriage.

President Bush has made his position clear on gay marriage, a particularly hot button at this time, by endorsing a Constitutional amendment that limits marriage to a man and woman. In his message, he called traditional marriage “the most fundamental institution of civilization,” adding, “Marriage cannot be severed from its cultural, religious and natural roots without weakening the good influence of society. Government, by recognizing and protecting marriage, serves the interests of all.” The leadership of the Democratic Party adamantly opposes this amendment, just as it champions abortion on demand and partial birth abortion. (Kerry and Edwards oppose gay marriage but are in favor of letting states approve of civil unions, an option found in the proposed amendment. Their opposition to the amendment must simply be partisan.) Almost all of Hollywood’s political donations go to Democrats.

At the heart of the struggle about sex is the eternal question of authority: Pilate’s question, What is truth? On the left, the tendency has been, from the Enlightenment and especially since the 1960s, to deny eternal verities and base morality on what feels good and seems “reasonable.” (Have you ever noticed that in most areas of life reason will tell you exactly what you want to hear?) On the right, there is a tendency to believe in objective morality, based on supernatural revelation and natural law. Liberal judges, pushing this country to the left for decades, see themselves as beacons of truth, and liberal politicians applaud their “enlightened” actions. Why not? Man makes his own history. Their opponents, including President Bush, think there are fundamental truths guiding human existence for the better and, when rejected, lead to widespread chaos and misery.

We can expect to hear much more about sex in coming months. Thoughtful people will increasingly ponder all of the issues of the Culture War and vote their conclusions and consciences. We can be certain that no matter who wins in November, this fascinating and important battle, like the War on Terror, will be with us for a very long time.

Thomas C. Reeves