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History Wars: The Enola Gay and Other Battles for the American Past
Discusses society's negative memories of atomic bombings and the Vietnam War
295 pages, Hardcover
First published August 1, 1996
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January 5, 2011
Two narratives merged in the abortive display proposed by the Smithsonian of the Enola Gay, the bomber that dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima: the successful ending to a long and devastating war and the devastation of two Japanese cities. History is all about stories, what the tell us and what they reveal about us. The text accompanying the display originally was characteristic of what Hoffer describes as the "new History," which portrayed the United States in a more nuanced manner and with less rah-rah, often seeing events from different points of view.
The content, which portrayed the horror wrecked upon the Japanese pissed off many, including Senator Dole, who had been seriously injured in WWII and who was then running for president. The text then was politicized, attacked by the right as un-American, promoted by the left as accurate and representing a multicultural perspective. Historians are typically ill-prepared and powerless to defend themselves against these kinds of polemical attacks. This book was an attempt by the essayists to address the issues raised by their detractors.
Linenthal had been involved in the 1993 Little Big Horn display controversy, and frankly should have know better than to get entangled in the Enola Gay disputation. While the desire to represent multiple points of view may be laudable, they should have expected a backlash. Ironically, protests against use of the bomb, was not a recent phenomenon, in fact, protests from the right, including Henry Luce, had been voiced in 1945. They argued the war could have been ended without use of the bomb, which, according to Luce, challenged the "Christian conscience."
It was the post-Vietnam War executive director and board members who were the most anxious to create an Enola Gay exhibit. The military representatives saw little purpose. After all, the mission had been a milk run and was simply a continuation of the strategic bombing policy developed by General Curtis LeMay to firebomb Japanese cities, part of the "morale" campaign that had originated in Europe. The mission of the Smithsonian, as chartered, was celebratory in nature and intended to be a "repository" for equipment and devices that represent advances in aviation. Some questioned whether the Enola Gay and the dropping of the bombs met that mission. The museum, with the help of the aviation industry and military, had become a showcase of American triump and ingenuity. The displays themselves had little historical context. So the Enola Gay exhibit would be a departure from that original intent.
By 1994 positions had hardened between those who accused the Smithsonian of being anti-American and wanting to revise history, and those at the Smithsonian who were trying to rewrite the script and avoid a public relations disaster. They were being accused of saying things even after the passages had been excised from the script. The controversy said more perhaps about 1990's United States culture than about the exhibit itself which had become a lightning rod for the American shift to the right. The Senate had passed a resolution making explicit the federal law that required the Smithsonian to commemorate "the valor and sacrificial service" of America's armed services. This, ironically, was very similar to the conservative Japanese refusal to express and remorse or apology for Japan's aggression. Both represent a veneration for the dead that permits only a celebratory response to the historical record.
The Smithsonian was unable, or unwilling, to mount any coherent counterattack and soon their opponents had enlisted members of Congress, etc., etc. and other groups, many of whom had clearly not even read the entire script, let alone the massive revisions. The only conclusion one could draw was that the Air Force was very worried that any portrayal of its use of nuclear weapons and their consequences might redound to the detriment of air power as a strategic weapon.
". . .as the fiasco of the Enola Gay exhibition at the Smithsonian Institution showed, American recollections of the war reveal a powerful emotional and ideological impulse to strip the historical record of all its ambiguity, all contradiction, all moral complexity, and simply wrap it in the flag."
The content, which portrayed the horror wrecked upon the Japanese pissed off many, including Senator Dole, who had been seriously injured in WWII and who was then running for president. The text then was politicized, attacked by the right as un-American, promoted by the left as accurate and representing a multicultural perspective. Historians are typically ill-prepared and powerless to defend themselves against these kinds of polemical attacks. This book was an attempt by the essayists to address the issues raised by their detractors.
Linenthal had been involved in the 1993 Little Big Horn display controversy, and frankly should have know better than to get entangled in the Enola Gay disputation. While the desire to represent multiple points of view may be laudable, they should have expected a backlash. Ironically, protests against use of the bomb, was not a recent phenomenon, in fact, protests from the right, including Henry Luce, had been voiced in 1945. They argued the war could have been ended without use of the bomb, which, according to Luce, challenged the "Christian conscience."
It was the post-Vietnam War executive director and board members who were the most anxious to create an Enola Gay exhibit. The military representatives saw little purpose. After all, the mission had been a milk run and was simply a continuation of the strategic bombing policy developed by General Curtis LeMay to firebomb Japanese cities, part of the "morale" campaign that had originated in Europe. The mission of the Smithsonian, as chartered, was celebratory in nature and intended to be a "repository" for equipment and devices that represent advances in aviation. Some questioned whether the Enola Gay and the dropping of the bombs met that mission. The museum, with the help of the aviation industry and military, had become a showcase of American triump and ingenuity. The displays themselves had little historical context. So the Enola Gay exhibit would be a departure from that original intent.
By 1994 positions had hardened between those who accused the Smithsonian of being anti-American and wanting to revise history, and those at the Smithsonian who were trying to rewrite the script and avoid a public relations disaster. They were being accused of saying things even after the passages had been excised from the script. The controversy said more perhaps about 1990's United States culture than about the exhibit itself which had become a lightning rod for the American shift to the right. The Senate had passed a resolution making explicit the federal law that required the Smithsonian to commemorate "the valor and sacrificial service" of America's armed services. This, ironically, was very similar to the conservative Japanese refusal to express and remorse or apology for Japan's aggression. Both represent a veneration for the dead that permits only a celebratory response to the historical record.
The Smithsonian was unable, or unwilling, to mount any coherent counterattack and soon their opponents had enlisted members of Congress, etc., etc. and other groups, many of whom had clearly not even read the entire script, let alone the massive revisions. The only conclusion one could draw was that the Air Force was very worried that any portrayal of its use of nuclear weapons and their consequences might redound to the detriment of air power as a strategic weapon.
". . .as the fiasco of the Enola Gay exhibition at the Smithsonian Institution showed, American recollections of the war reveal a powerful emotional and ideological impulse to strip the historical record of all its ambiguity, all contradiction, all moral complexity, and simply wrap it in the flag."
October 23, 2024
The Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum (NASM) was planning an exhibit for 1995 to correspond with the 50th anniversary of the end of WWII. Its intention was to examine from a variety of perspectives America’s dropping of atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki and to commemorate the Allies victory in WWII . How was the decision made to drop the bombs? Why was the decision made? Were there viable alternatives? What were the results of dropping the bombs: immediate and in the long-term? What changes took place in the world with the introduction of atomic weapon capability? A refurbished Enola Gay was to be central to the exhibit.
Reactions to the proposed exhibit were strident and ugly. Veterans' groups and the U.S. Congress felt that the exhibit was unpatriotic; they believed the exhibit presented the Japanese as victims only, not as the aggressors who started the war. But the motivations behind the reaction to the exhibit were more complex than that. Eventually the exhibit was cancelled and the Director of the museum resigned. The message was not just that the wrong time and place had been chosen to look back at this event and its implications. The message was that the country did not want to examine and understand.
This book consists of eight essays that try to answer these questions. What was the controversy about? What did the controversy say about the United States and its willingness to understand its own history? What effects did the dropping of atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki have on the psyche of the United States? The essays are not duplicates of one another. Each introduces new ideas, new perspectives; each extends the boundaries of the discussion.
In attempting to answer these questions History Wars takes on a huge challenge and uses a very unique structure, eight aligned but disparate essays. I think a more straight-forward approach by one historian to tackle these questions would have been more effective for me. I felt there was too much duplication of information. The same ground was tread too many times, and I found myself continually trying to pick out the new pieces of information to complete my understanding. The focus of the essays was on the controversy, but the essays regularly referred to the progress in the historical understanding and interpretation of the dropping of the atomic bombs, but at no point was there a clear discussion of the evolution of those interpretations.
Despite these comments, I enjoyed the essays, some more than others. I thought this was a unique way to tackle this subject and while it did not succeed entirely in my eyes, it was a worthy experiment.
Reactions to the proposed exhibit were strident and ugly. Veterans' groups and the U.S. Congress felt that the exhibit was unpatriotic; they believed the exhibit presented the Japanese as victims only, not as the aggressors who started the war. But the motivations behind the reaction to the exhibit were more complex than that. Eventually the exhibit was cancelled and the Director of the museum resigned. The message was not just that the wrong time and place had been chosen to look back at this event and its implications. The message was that the country did not want to examine and understand.
This book consists of eight essays that try to answer these questions. What was the controversy about? What did the controversy say about the United States and its willingness to understand its own history? What effects did the dropping of atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki have on the psyche of the United States? The essays are not duplicates of one another. Each introduces new ideas, new perspectives; each extends the boundaries of the discussion.
In attempting to answer these questions History Wars takes on a huge challenge and uses a very unique structure, eight aligned but disparate essays. I think a more straight-forward approach by one historian to tackle these questions would have been more effective for me. I felt there was too much duplication of information. The same ground was tread too many times, and I found myself continually trying to pick out the new pieces of information to complete my understanding. The focus of the essays was on the controversy, but the essays regularly referred to the progress in the historical understanding and interpretation of the dropping of the atomic bombs, but at no point was there a clear discussion of the evolution of those interpretations.
Despite these comments, I enjoyed the essays, some more than others. I thought this was a unique way to tackle this subject and while it did not succeed entirely in my eyes, it was a worthy experiment.
July 27, 2009
A collection of essays by various historians responding to the 1994 controversy surrounding a planned exhibition at the National Air and Space Museum that was to be centered around the Enola Gay, the plane that dropped the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima. The exhibit planned to place the plane as a transitional piece between two eras, the end of WWII, and the beginning of the Cold War. It also wanted to, most contentiously, offer the visitors a look into scholarly debate on the decision to drop the bomb, whether it was necessary, "morally unambiguous," (as some people later claimed), or whether it was dropped for reasons that had more to do with the diplomatic, the political, or merely the vengeful or racist. As this exhibit coincided with the 50th anniversary of the end of the war, there were very heated debates between the "commemorative" impulse (talking about the sacrifice and heroism of American soldiers) and the historical exploration of truths stated above. The exhibit also got caught up in several other outside factors: its opening into the 1994 Contract for America atmosphere, full of Limbaughs and Gingriches and the beginnings of Bob Dole's presidential run, its placement in a national, state run museum and its potential "influence," on the "16 year old kid who walks out thinking bad about America," its insistence on remembering the victims of the bombing and emphasis on the effects of nuclear power, the Air and Space museum's economic function as a part of the aerospace industry and the lobbying pressures brought to bear because of it, the Vietnam generation's outlook on life vs. people who came before, the changing field of museums and historiography, and on and on and on.
The essays each deal with an aspect of the controversy, some of them more cynical than others. For some, it seems as much as they can do to merely make sense of the conflict, and try to figure out how a bunch of historians got caught in the utterly chaotic clusterfuck that surrounded this whole thing, and why it became a clusterfuck to begin with. It is truly a fascinating story that shows us what happens when a government in a supposedly free society tries to control history, who really "owns" history, what the benefit is of telling "the truth," and what that "truth" is for many people, the influence of present conflicts on our interpretation of the past, the difference between history-as-experience and history-as-reconstructed later by historians with the leisure of hindsight, and the awesome, all encompassing power of memory.
The one caution I would give is that the historians writing this book are clearly writing to defend themselves against charges leveled at them over the course of years of planning. They mostly did not defend themselves at the time, having no idea how to work the press or political machinery, and this is their belated response. It is very, (somewhat sadly amusingly) historian of them to wait a year to respond, and write long, considered essays that quote from various sources, and then respond in book form rather than in the press (though maybe this book got play in the press when it was published, I don't know). But anyway, just be aware, a lot of the people writing in this book had just gone through a year of being personally attacked and villified and in some cases threatened, and they've got an agenda, just like any of the attackers did.
Though that said, I will say I had to watch my own biases. Every time some vote grubbing Republican pandered to their right wing base I wanted to throw up- but that didn't mean that some of what they said wasn't true, and I found myself making a list of my own biases so I could step back from statements that drove me up a wall and try to sort out the real valid point of view from all the crap surrounding it that made me see red. So maybe responding a year later and in book form, not such a bad idea for some debates.
The essays each deal with an aspect of the controversy, some of them more cynical than others. For some, it seems as much as they can do to merely make sense of the conflict, and try to figure out how a bunch of historians got caught in the utterly chaotic clusterfuck that surrounded this whole thing, and why it became a clusterfuck to begin with. It is truly a fascinating story that shows us what happens when a government in a supposedly free society tries to control history, who really "owns" history, what the benefit is of telling "the truth," and what that "truth" is for many people, the influence of present conflicts on our interpretation of the past, the difference between history-as-experience and history-as-reconstructed later by historians with the leisure of hindsight, and the awesome, all encompassing power of memory.
The one caution I would give is that the historians writing this book are clearly writing to defend themselves against charges leveled at them over the course of years of planning. They mostly did not defend themselves at the time, having no idea how to work the press or political machinery, and this is their belated response. It is very, (somewhat sadly amusingly) historian of them to wait a year to respond, and write long, considered essays that quote from various sources, and then respond in book form rather than in the press (though maybe this book got play in the press when it was published, I don't know). But anyway, just be aware, a lot of the people writing in this book had just gone through a year of being personally attacked and villified and in some cases threatened, and they've got an agenda, just like any of the attackers did.
Though that said, I will say I had to watch my own biases. Every time some vote grubbing Republican pandered to their right wing base I wanted to throw up- but that didn't mean that some of what they said wasn't true, and I found myself making a list of my own biases so I could step back from statements that drove me up a wall and try to sort out the real valid point of view from all the crap surrounding it that made me see red. So maybe responding a year later and in book form, not such a bad idea for some debates.
September 3, 2007
History Wars is a collection of essays centered around the failed 1995 Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum's exhibit of the Enola Gay, which intended to examine intersection the end of World War II and the beginning of the Cold War beginning with the dropping of atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The exhibit floundered when pressure from conservative politicians and veterans groups denounced it and Congress threatened to cut the museums funding.
Some of the contributing authors were closely involved in the exhibit, but for many of the essays the exhibit serves as a starting point for a larger discussion of history and memory. The overarching question remains: who owns American History? Despite the relative success of Lynne Cheney and Newt Gingrich in the 1990s for adding more "heroes" in American History, American atrocities overseas, past and present, retain a great deal of influence on how Americans see their own history.
The authors ask deep questions about how our understanding of history impacts our identity as Americans. Published in 1996 it cannot address the current war and its impact on American identity or history, but the questions remain the same. If the first Gulf War was fought to "cure" the "Vietnam Syndrome," then what is the effect of the current war on the culture of despair brought about by failure in Vietnam (or as Tom Engelhardt argues, the dropping of atomic bombs)?
These essays ask critical questions about the importance of history, its politicization, and its intersection with memory. Since each essay is self-contained, I would highly recommend this book, whole or excerpted, for any history/social studies teacher looking to engage her/his students on why history matters. It would probably need a fair amount of supplementary discussion and some guidance depending on the age group, but the essays are readable and could yield extraordinary results.
Some of the contributing authors were closely involved in the exhibit, but for many of the essays the exhibit serves as a starting point for a larger discussion of history and memory. The overarching question remains: who owns American History? Despite the relative success of Lynne Cheney and Newt Gingrich in the 1990s for adding more "heroes" in American History, American atrocities overseas, past and present, retain a great deal of influence on how Americans see their own history.
The authors ask deep questions about how our understanding of history impacts our identity as Americans. Published in 1996 it cannot address the current war and its impact on American identity or history, but the questions remain the same. If the first Gulf War was fought to "cure" the "Vietnam Syndrome," then what is the effect of the current war on the culture of despair brought about by failure in Vietnam (or as Tom Engelhardt argues, the dropping of atomic bombs)?
These essays ask critical questions about the importance of history, its politicization, and its intersection with memory. Since each essay is self-contained, I would highly recommend this book, whole or excerpted, for any history/social studies teacher looking to engage her/his students on why history matters. It would probably need a fair amount of supplementary discussion and some guidance depending on the age group, but the essays are readable and could yield extraordinary results.
April 22, 2022
Four stars possibly, for having many of the same arguments and facts and figures. But a pure and simple five stars, for the depth of argument, the spurring on of long thoughts and discussions, the debates over history and who gets to tell it, and when it is appropriate to tell and revise... A happy coincidence that I got to read this while teaching American history and Hiroshima. Essential reading for any student of history and, really, any American.
October 12, 2024
Edward Linenthal’s History Wars explores the contentious nature of public history and highlights some of the conflicts that arise when different groups come together in an attempt to present a shared national history. Co-edited with Tom Engelhardt, History Wars focuses on the 1995 canceled Smithsonian exhibit featuring Enola Gay, the plane that dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima. Through a series of essays written by historians, public officials, and other scholars, Linenthal shows that national history is inherently political and can become the subject of heated debates as different groups battle over how history should be interpreted.
As an advisor on the Enola Gay exhibit and historian specializing in public memory, commemoration, and controversial aspects of US history, Linenthal is uniquely qualified to tell this story. History Wars begins with an overview of the controversy and the key figures involved before diving into how the political and social climate of the 1990s shaped the debate. Later essays focus on the broader implications of the conflict on the future of public history and how tensions between differing perspectives on national history can influence how history is produced and presented in public spaces.
One of History Wars' primary strengths is in its thorough presentation of both sides of the controversy. This offers readers not only a deeper understanding of the Enola Gay conflict but also illustrates how differing interpretations of national memory can quickly become a contentious issue for public historians to navigate. In an opening essay, Linenthal details both sets of arguments. He explained that the curators for the original exhibit wanted to emphasize the moral implications of atomic warfare. Their goal was to “emphasize the darker narrative of atomic destruction and fear.” In this interpretation, WWII became “a prelude to the use of the bomb” and revealed the Japanese to be “not so much the last civilian victims of WWII as the first victims of the nuclear age.” In short, the exhibit was meant to teach the public a lesson about the horrors of atomic warfare but largely neglected any discussion on why the bomb might have been necessary.
Almost immediately, this interpretation encountered significant opposition. Opponents argued that an exhibit focusing on the victims of the bomb would “treat Japan and the United States…as if their participation in the war were morally equivalent.” Military associations, veteran groups, and conservative politicians feared that questioning the morality of dropping the atomic bomb would undermine a sacred narrative about the United States’ role in WWII. They argued that the exhibit should emphasize the importance of dropping the bomb in bringing the war to an end and its role in saving American lives. As the curatorial team attempted to negotiate versions of the exhibit to appease both sides to no avail, it became clear that the portrayal of the past had become a battleground, with politics taking center stage in shaping the narrative.
In a later essay, historian Michael Sherry explores how the political climate of the 1990s significantly contributed to this controversy. He suggested that patriotic culture in the US had begun to split during the Vietnam War, and some Americans began to question the morality of the US assertion of power around the world, potentially calling into question the “righteousness” of the US’s actions during WWII. The collapse of the Soviet Union and the end of the Cold War meant that there was no more “super enemy” for Americans to rally against to express their patriotism. Cultural debates surrounding issues such as gays in the military and political correctness further contributed to dividing Americans, and many began “equating patriotism with conservatism.” The Enola Gay exhibit, thus, became a proxy for the cultural and political battles over national identity taking place in American society. Sherry’s analysis highlights how the interpretation of history is inherently political and reveals how public historians can find themselves at the center of struggles over who controls and shapes national memory.
One of the book's most compelling sections examines the implications of the canceled Enola Gay exhibit on the future of public history. In his essay, Richard Kohn suggests that the exhibit’s cancellation was “one of the worst tragedies to befall the public presentation of history in the United States.” Kohn explains that the cancellation of the exhibit was not only a wasted opportunity to educate the public about one of the century’s most significant moments, but he also accused the Smithsonian of “surrendering its scholarly independence and a significant amount of its authority in American intellectual life to accommodate to a political perspective.” If an institution as prestigious as the Smithsonian cannot present controversial exhibits to the public for fear of offending powerful political groups, Kohn suggests that the US could be in danger of adopting the characteristics of the very totalitarian regimes it once defeated. His essay is thus a warning to both public historians and government officials about the dangers of allowing political pressures to dictate historical interpretation.
As a detailed case study of how public history can become the focal point for political conflict, History Wars is an essential read for public historians and students of history seeking to understand the challenges of presenting controversial topics to the public. Others who might find this book useful are academics or history students interested in understanding how national memory intersects with political power and how government agencies can influence interpretations of history.
While History Wars does well to outline the Enola Gay controversy, it offers a limited discussion of practical solutions available for public historians facing similar challenges. Perhaps that is beyond the scope of the work, or maybe this reflects the complexities and real-world challenges of public history. Nonetheless, some discussion of actionable insights for public historians seeking to navigate these challenges would have been extremely useful. Despite this, History Wars remains a significant work in illustrating how cultural and political ideologies shape the way historical narratives are presented to the public and how national memory both shapes and is shaped by ongoing struggles over historical interpretation.
As an advisor on the Enola Gay exhibit and historian specializing in public memory, commemoration, and controversial aspects of US history, Linenthal is uniquely qualified to tell this story. History Wars begins with an overview of the controversy and the key figures involved before diving into how the political and social climate of the 1990s shaped the debate. Later essays focus on the broader implications of the conflict on the future of public history and how tensions between differing perspectives on national history can influence how history is produced and presented in public spaces.
One of History Wars' primary strengths is in its thorough presentation of both sides of the controversy. This offers readers not only a deeper understanding of the Enola Gay conflict but also illustrates how differing interpretations of national memory can quickly become a contentious issue for public historians to navigate. In an opening essay, Linenthal details both sets of arguments. He explained that the curators for the original exhibit wanted to emphasize the moral implications of atomic warfare. Their goal was to “emphasize the darker narrative of atomic destruction and fear.” In this interpretation, WWII became “a prelude to the use of the bomb” and revealed the Japanese to be “not so much the last civilian victims of WWII as the first victims of the nuclear age.” In short, the exhibit was meant to teach the public a lesson about the horrors of atomic warfare but largely neglected any discussion on why the bomb might have been necessary.
Almost immediately, this interpretation encountered significant opposition. Opponents argued that an exhibit focusing on the victims of the bomb would “treat Japan and the United States…as if their participation in the war were morally equivalent.” Military associations, veteran groups, and conservative politicians feared that questioning the morality of dropping the atomic bomb would undermine a sacred narrative about the United States’ role in WWII. They argued that the exhibit should emphasize the importance of dropping the bomb in bringing the war to an end and its role in saving American lives. As the curatorial team attempted to negotiate versions of the exhibit to appease both sides to no avail, it became clear that the portrayal of the past had become a battleground, with politics taking center stage in shaping the narrative.
In a later essay, historian Michael Sherry explores how the political climate of the 1990s significantly contributed to this controversy. He suggested that patriotic culture in the US had begun to split during the Vietnam War, and some Americans began to question the morality of the US assertion of power around the world, potentially calling into question the “righteousness” of the US’s actions during WWII. The collapse of the Soviet Union and the end of the Cold War meant that there was no more “super enemy” for Americans to rally against to express their patriotism. Cultural debates surrounding issues such as gays in the military and political correctness further contributed to dividing Americans, and many began “equating patriotism with conservatism.” The Enola Gay exhibit, thus, became a proxy for the cultural and political battles over national identity taking place in American society. Sherry’s analysis highlights how the interpretation of history is inherently political and reveals how public historians can find themselves at the center of struggles over who controls and shapes national memory.
One of the book's most compelling sections examines the implications of the canceled Enola Gay exhibit on the future of public history. In his essay, Richard Kohn suggests that the exhibit’s cancellation was “one of the worst tragedies to befall the public presentation of history in the United States.” Kohn explains that the cancellation of the exhibit was not only a wasted opportunity to educate the public about one of the century’s most significant moments, but he also accused the Smithsonian of “surrendering its scholarly independence and a significant amount of its authority in American intellectual life to accommodate to a political perspective.” If an institution as prestigious as the Smithsonian cannot present controversial exhibits to the public for fear of offending powerful political groups, Kohn suggests that the US could be in danger of adopting the characteristics of the very totalitarian regimes it once defeated. His essay is thus a warning to both public historians and government officials about the dangers of allowing political pressures to dictate historical interpretation.
As a detailed case study of how public history can become the focal point for political conflict, History Wars is an essential read for public historians and students of history seeking to understand the challenges of presenting controversial topics to the public. Others who might find this book useful are academics or history students interested in understanding how national memory intersects with political power and how government agencies can influence interpretations of history.
While History Wars does well to outline the Enola Gay controversy, it offers a limited discussion of practical solutions available for public historians facing similar challenges. Perhaps that is beyond the scope of the work, or maybe this reflects the complexities and real-world challenges of public history. Nonetheless, some discussion of actionable insights for public historians seeking to navigate these challenges would have been extremely useful. Despite this, History Wars remains a significant work in illustrating how cultural and political ideologies shape the way historical narratives are presented to the public and how national memory both shapes and is shaped by ongoing struggles over historical interpretation.
September 13, 2023
We read two sections of this for honors and it was so boring but interesting topic!
April 7, 2022
Only read a few chapters, excellent summary and walkthrough of the Enola Gay controversy.
May 31, 2015
It's a bit hard to judge this useful collection of essays as a result of the changes that have taken place in the world since it was published pre-9/11 and the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Focusing on the furor over the proposed Smithsonian (NASM) exhibition organized around the Enola Gay (the plane that dropped the bomb on Hiroshima), the essays delve into the reasons the exhibit failed to take place in anything resembling the historically serious form the curators intended. The central concern is the pressure to provide a celebratory narrative--the bomb ended the "Good War" and saved countless (American) lives--rather than a more troubling story acknowledging (critics would say foregrounding) the destruction on the ground and the tensions of the arms race that followed. Most of the essayists are sympathetic to the curators and correctly attribute the furor to a lobbying effort launched by a small group of veterans tied to the aeronautics industry and the hysteria surrounding the "culture wars" that helped bring New Gingrich to power as leader of the new Republican majority in the House in 1994. All of that's interesting and useful, capable of sparking discussions related to the teaching of history, the role of public museums, etc. The strange part of reading the book now is the almost universal assumption among the essayists that the "post-Vietnam" and "post-Cold War" contexts make renewed American military engagements unlikely. Didn't work out like that.
As in almost any anthology, the quality of the essays varies quite a bit. The best are those by John Dower on the Japanese narratives surrounding WW II; Paul Boyer on the dynamics of the struggle over public memory; and Marilyn Young on the lingering presence of Vietnam, often unstated, in the controversy. Richard Kohn represents the conservative perspective well; and Mike Wallace (not the newsman) counters from the left.
Useful, but dated.
As in almost any anthology, the quality of the essays varies quite a bit. The best are those by John Dower on the Japanese narratives surrounding WW II; Paul Boyer on the dynamics of the struggle over public memory; and Marilyn Young on the lingering presence of Vietnam, often unstated, in the controversy. Richard Kohn represents the conservative perspective well; and Mike Wallace (not the newsman) counters from the left.
Useful, but dated.
March 5, 2025
This book presents a series of articles on essentially American history subjects ... especially a disputed exhibit at the Smithsonian Institute in Washington DC that featured the airplane the Enola Gay which dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima during World War II ... and how oftentimes these exhibits blossom into wars of commemoration vs exhibit.
The Enola Gay presentation: was it an exhibit of U.S. technology winning the war and saving thousands of American lives, or a message and warning to the Japanese of the retribution suffered for their surprise attack? Should we celebrate dropping the atomic bomb, or deal with the uncomfortable reality of Japanese people with their burning skin peeling off? This is but one example of converting exhibit space to commemorative space ... which is it?
Other examples: How about ... Wernher von Braun’s role in Germany during World War II which was silenced ... we didn't talk about it in his work in the United States? How about ... Custer’s Last Stand battlefield … is it a monument to the Union Cavalry fighting to the death or a slaughter ground for the American Indian? World War II was considered the last "good war." How do we view the Vietnam War?
As it turns out, there really isn’t a hero story for Vietnam … like the Chosen Reservoir in Korea or Guns of Navarone during WWII. How do we reconcile the Vietnam War? Vietnam Memorial ... The Wall ... honors veterans without commenting on American Vietnam policy. The warrior is separated from the war. The Vietnam Memorial is one with little story, unlike Iwo Jima.
And thus we see the contested ground between commemoration and exhibit ... History Wars. This book by Ed Linenthal is an excellent primer on the diverging views of some famous exhibits, and how in the end it all depends on one's point of view. Excellent read.
The Enola Gay presentation: was it an exhibit of U.S. technology winning the war and saving thousands of American lives, or a message and warning to the Japanese of the retribution suffered for their surprise attack? Should we celebrate dropping the atomic bomb, or deal with the uncomfortable reality of Japanese people with their burning skin peeling off? This is but one example of converting exhibit space to commemorative space ... which is it?
Other examples: How about ... Wernher von Braun’s role in Germany during World War II which was silenced ... we didn't talk about it in his work in the United States? How about ... Custer’s Last Stand battlefield … is it a monument to the Union Cavalry fighting to the death or a slaughter ground for the American Indian? World War II was considered the last "good war." How do we view the Vietnam War?
As it turns out, there really isn’t a hero story for Vietnam … like the Chosen Reservoir in Korea or Guns of Navarone during WWII. How do we reconcile the Vietnam War? Vietnam Memorial ... The Wall ... honors veterans without commenting on American Vietnam policy. The warrior is separated from the war. The Vietnam Memorial is one with little story, unlike Iwo Jima.
And thus we see the contested ground between commemoration and exhibit ... History Wars. This book by Ed Linenthal is an excellent primer on the diverging views of some famous exhibits, and how in the end it all depends on one's point of view. Excellent read.
July 20, 2009
An account of the abortive Smithsonian effort to present an exhibition featuring the B-29 'Enola Gay' for the 50th anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima. The exhibition itself became part of the 'culture wars' of the 1990s--- torpedoed by a combination of conservative politicians and veterans' groups. The accusation was that the proposed exhibition, by featuring photos of the human devastation at Hiroshima and Nagasaki and discussing the debates over whether the bombings were necessary to end the war were somehow 'un-American'. "History Wars" is a collection of essays on what happened to scupper the exhibition--- all well-written, though the book could have used a few more pieces to give itself context. The Smithsonian became the target of populist anger over 'anti-American' or 'revisionist' views--- presentations that questioned national myths and tried to use museums for doing actual history rather than being commemorative temples. The book touches on that, and I wish that could've been given more attention. Nonetheless, a reminder that history and commemoration are different things, and of the political power to be found in the control of history.
June 3, 2012
A bit repetative after a while, but certainly very interesting for historical professionals who work in museums or make exhibits. How to exhibit war? What effects can certain object have? How difficult can discussions be where actual particants in a conflict voice their opinion? And what value must those voices have?
All subjects treated in this book and a must read for directors or curators in war or war related museums.
All subjects treated in this book and a must read for directors or curators in war or war related museums.
July 6, 2019
A useful and interesting book, especially for teachers. The focus in these essays by prominent historians is less on the morality question than the memory question. How should morally ambiguous events like the atomic bombings be remembered and memorialized, if at all? Each essay looks at the controversy over a detailed and fairly even-handed exhibition about the Enola Gay and the atom bombs at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum in 1994-5. A coalition of conservatives, veterans, and other groups objected to the exhibit as blaming the US for the bombings as an act of aggression and failing to fully honor the memory and achievements of veterans. Of course, given that many veterans saw the atomic bomb as literally saving their lives (from an invasion of Japan), there wasn't a ton of room for nuance.
These essays convey how battles over memory are always also battles about present meaning and morality. This was especially true for the post-Vietnam United States, which looked back on WWII as a golden age and thus was less willing to grapple with the atomic bombings. I thought that the cancelled exhibit was actually pretty fair-minded, although the best argument against the exhibit, preferred by Dick Kohn, was that a 50th anniversary commemoration of the end of WWII should be more about civic commemoration than historical inquiry, which is best one in less emotionally loaded times. Still, this volume shows that many Americans simply do not want to deal with complex and even ugly parts of the past. This book would be a great resource for teachers who want to get their students thinking about public memory, commemoration, the civic and education roles of museums, and other issues besides just the "Should we have or should we not have used the bomb" question. However, I will say that the essays overlap considerably. For the time pressed, read John Dower's excellent "3 Narratives of our Humanity," the Dick Kohn Essay, and the opening essay that walks through the Enola Gay controversy. The rest can be skipped.
These essays convey how battles over memory are always also battles about present meaning and morality. This was especially true for the post-Vietnam United States, which looked back on WWII as a golden age and thus was less willing to grapple with the atomic bombings. I thought that the cancelled exhibit was actually pretty fair-minded, although the best argument against the exhibit, preferred by Dick Kohn, was that a 50th anniversary commemoration of the end of WWII should be more about civic commemoration than historical inquiry, which is best one in less emotionally loaded times. Still, this volume shows that many Americans simply do not want to deal with complex and even ugly parts of the past. This book would be a great resource for teachers who want to get their students thinking about public memory, commemoration, the civic and education roles of museums, and other issues besides just the "Should we have or should we not have used the bomb" question. However, I will say that the essays overlap considerably. For the time pressed, read John Dower's excellent "3 Narratives of our Humanity," the Dick Kohn Essay, and the opening essay that walks through the Enola Gay controversy. The rest can be skipped.
October 4, 2022
I hate history, so in terms of personal enjoyment, this book scored low.
However, I think it provides interesting historical takes on the Enola Gay, the Vietnam War, and Hiroshima and Nagasaki --- all historical moments which should be analyzed critically.
My other complaint is that this series of essays gets painfully repetitive --- all the historians share similar views (which sure, is great) but when they all quote the same dude and hammer the same points, it can get a little dull.
I'm glad I read this. I definitely learned a lot. But boy am I glad it's over.
However, I think it provides interesting historical takes on the Enola Gay, the Vietnam War, and Hiroshima and Nagasaki --- all historical moments which should be analyzed critically.
My other complaint is that this series of essays gets painfully repetitive --- all the historians share similar views (which sure, is great) but when they all quote the same dude and hammer the same points, it can get a little dull.
I'm glad I read this. I definitely learned a lot. But boy am I glad it's over.
October 28, 2024
Kinda hit and miss—and the events contextualized better in books like Hiroshima in America—but the opening essay is excellent, walking you through how the upcoming Enola Gay exhibit became a piñata for conservatives in 1994.
America really is an evil country.
America really is an evil country.
October 8, 2025
This week’s book for class! The Enola Gay exhibit being scrapped initially I think was a shame because of how much people could have benefited from learning. It brings up the question of whether or not politics belongs in museums and how can that be eliminated.
July 5, 2022
Some good essays on the use of the atomic bombs, how perception of that decision changed over time, and what that says about American understandings of history, but got pretty repetitive.
October 2, 2022
read for a class, but super interesting and illuminating in regards to so many core aspects of American collective memory and consciousness
March 2, 2024
Interesting compilation of essays. Got repetitive at times
October 16, 2024
such an interesting pocket of history I didn't know much about! I appreciated that these essays were really digestible and weren't overly academic (in other words, the writing was really good)
Read
March 27, 2025I had to read for class
January 5, 2016
“Historians become controversial when they do not perpetuate myths, when they do not transmit the received and conventional wisdom, when they challenge the comforting presence of a stabilized past.”
― Edward Linethal, History Wars
On August 6, 1945 the U.S. detonated an atomic bomb over the Japanese city of Hiroshima. Three days later another nuclear bomb was dropped and Nagasaki was destroyed. Several hundred thousand civilians were killed outright, with many more dying from the side effects of radiation poisoning over the following months and years. A few days after the detonation of the second bomb Emperor Hirohito announced his intent to surrender, bringing an end to World War II.
In the U.S. today, many see the bombings as a morally unambiguous act. Japan was unwilling to surrender. A ground assault on the Japanese mainland would have cost the U.S. many thousands of lives. Therefore the bombing was not only justified, but the right thing to do. Nuclear weapons saved American lives by bringing a swift conclusion to the war.
But history is complicated. The moral implications of dropping the bombs was highly controversial at the time (General Dwight D. Eisenhower was one opponent for example). The ability of the Japanese to sustain the war was significantly diminished by the time the decision was being made, leading many to believe the war would soon have drawn to a close of its own. Even if the first bomb was deemed necessary to overcome Japanese resistance it’s not clear how the 2nd bomb, dropped a mere 3 days later before the Japanese leadership could grasp the implications of the devastation on Hiroshima, could be unambiguously justified. And of course there are few non-psychopaths who would advocate for the use of nuclear weapons against a civilian population in the present day.
In 1994 the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum in Washington, D.C. set out to explore the nuances of the issues surrounding the use of nuclear weapons as part of a 50 year anniversary display that would feature a restored Enola Gay (the airplane that dropped the bomb on Hiroshima) as its centerpiece. The museum planned a nuanced exhibit that would examine the event from multiple perspectives, including that from ground zero. The proposed display quickly became the center of controversy as veterans groups and conservative lawmakers accused the museum of liberal historical revisionism and of fostering anti-American sentiment. The museum historians, on the other hand, viewed the response by these groups as an unprecedented attack on both historians and history itself by anti-intellectual McCarthyites bent on perpetuating an exceptionalist mythology. The controversy resulted in the resignation of Martin Harwin (the museum’s director) and the abandonment of all but the Enola Gay from the display, which was eventually featured without any messy historical context.
History Wars: The Enola Gay and Other Battles for the American Past is an examination of the controversy surrounding the Smithsonian exhibit and provides a useful case study of the intersection between politics, patriotism, myth and history. It also serves as an illustration that history is always told from a certain perspective. The heroism of U.S. soldiers and airmen during WWII is one facet of the story, as is the barbaric behavior of the Japanese during the war. But no less valid is the reality depicted by a schoolgirls lunchbox, blackened by the searing heat of a nuclear blast (the girl’s body was never found). Rather than a simplistic tale of a U.S. victory, the Smithsonian attempted to create a display that captured multiple facets of a complex issue. They were castigated for their efforts.
History Wars consists of essays on this topic from a variety of historians. The essays are uniformly well written, some exceptionally so, yet despite the fact that they each offer a somewhat different take on the subject matter, I found them to largely echo the same themes and felt that they became repetitive and redundant.
Facts are inconvenient things, and the reality of ground zero raises important, if uncomfortable, questions regarding an event that the public commonly perceives as the “Good War”. We hide or ignore these uncomfortable facts of history at our own peril. Regardless of ones views regarding the use of nuclear weapons against a civilian population, I think most would agree that history is too important to be left to the demagogues.
“Those who control the present, control the past and those who control the past control the future.”
― George Orwell, 1984
― Edward Linethal, History Wars
On August 6, 1945 the U.S. detonated an atomic bomb over the Japanese city of Hiroshima. Three days later another nuclear bomb was dropped and Nagasaki was destroyed. Several hundred thousand civilians were killed outright, with many more dying from the side effects of radiation poisoning over the following months and years. A few days after the detonation of the second bomb Emperor Hirohito announced his intent to surrender, bringing an end to World War II.
In the U.S. today, many see the bombings as a morally unambiguous act. Japan was unwilling to surrender. A ground assault on the Japanese mainland would have cost the U.S. many thousands of lives. Therefore the bombing was not only justified, but the right thing to do. Nuclear weapons saved American lives by bringing a swift conclusion to the war.
But history is complicated. The moral implications of dropping the bombs was highly controversial at the time (General Dwight D. Eisenhower was one opponent for example). The ability of the Japanese to sustain the war was significantly diminished by the time the decision was being made, leading many to believe the war would soon have drawn to a close of its own. Even if the first bomb was deemed necessary to overcome Japanese resistance it’s not clear how the 2nd bomb, dropped a mere 3 days later before the Japanese leadership could grasp the implications of the devastation on Hiroshima, could be unambiguously justified. And of course there are few non-psychopaths who would advocate for the use of nuclear weapons against a civilian population in the present day.
In 1994 the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum in Washington, D.C. set out to explore the nuances of the issues surrounding the use of nuclear weapons as part of a 50 year anniversary display that would feature a restored Enola Gay (the airplane that dropped the bomb on Hiroshima) as its centerpiece. The museum planned a nuanced exhibit that would examine the event from multiple perspectives, including that from ground zero. The proposed display quickly became the center of controversy as veterans groups and conservative lawmakers accused the museum of liberal historical revisionism and of fostering anti-American sentiment. The museum historians, on the other hand, viewed the response by these groups as an unprecedented attack on both historians and history itself by anti-intellectual McCarthyites bent on perpetuating an exceptionalist mythology. The controversy resulted in the resignation of Martin Harwin (the museum’s director) and the abandonment of all but the Enola Gay from the display, which was eventually featured without any messy historical context.
History Wars: The Enola Gay and Other Battles for the American Past is an examination of the controversy surrounding the Smithsonian exhibit and provides a useful case study of the intersection between politics, patriotism, myth and history. It also serves as an illustration that history is always told from a certain perspective. The heroism of U.S. soldiers and airmen during WWII is one facet of the story, as is the barbaric behavior of the Japanese during the war. But no less valid is the reality depicted by a schoolgirls lunchbox, blackened by the searing heat of a nuclear blast (the girl’s body was never found). Rather than a simplistic tale of a U.S. victory, the Smithsonian attempted to create a display that captured multiple facets of a complex issue. They were castigated for their efforts.
History Wars consists of essays on this topic from a variety of historians. The essays are uniformly well written, some exceptionally so, yet despite the fact that they each offer a somewhat different take on the subject matter, I found them to largely echo the same themes and felt that they became repetitive and redundant.
Facts are inconvenient things, and the reality of ground zero raises important, if uncomfortable, questions regarding an event that the public commonly perceives as the “Good War”. We hide or ignore these uncomfortable facts of history at our own peril. Regardless of ones views regarding the use of nuclear weapons against a civilian population, I think most would agree that history is too important to be left to the demagogues.
“Those who control the present, control the past and those who control the past control the future.”
― George Orwell, 1984
February 12, 2016
This book centers around a very interesting topic, and that is how the past is viewed by the participants in a war between each other. In this case, the issue is a planned Smithsonian exhibit of the Enola Gay, the plan that dropped the first atomic bomb ever used. The book goes into details about the various scripts and arguments, the problems ranging from one approach that more or less painted the Hiroshima and its people as the victims of the war to the other extreme, basically that they-got-what-they-deserved approach.
The old saying is “history is written by the victors.†However, after enough time, some people begin to question the “accepted†victor's view of a war and its events, as in this case.
One of the main things the book goes into is the Japanese view of the war, and how many Japanese consider themselves the victims of what happened. Some of these people still believe that Japan had to make war in order to preserve its own economy and traditions, since it was surrounded by colonial powers that had carved out most of Asia for themselves.
There is also the issue of the nature of bombing in the war. From the very start of the war, civilians were considered acceptable targets. The bombs that Germany dropped on Poland in 1939 made no distinction between civilians and military personnel. As the war wound on, there was sort of an attempt on the part of the Allies to hit military targets, but this basically ended when Britain started using carpet bombing, which tends to kill lots of civilians, and this approach found its expert use in the firebombing of Japanese cities which, in one case, killed more people than the atomic bomb did.
The book also discusses whether there was any actual need for the atomic bombs, since some reports and people believed that Japan would have surrendered by the end of the year anyhow. (I, personally, don't think they would have surrendered at all, and I think any actual invasion of the Japanese home islands would have been far bloodier than anything yet seen in the war.)
The book uses the name hibakusha for the Japanese survivors of the atomic bomb, although it doesn't really go into the problems that these people have in Japan, since they are often discriminated against by the Japanese.
(Also, something not actually covered in the book, was the type of hold the Japanese government had over the Japanese. The militarists had total control of the media (radio, newspapers, etc.) Dissenters ended up jailed or dead. )
This is basically a good book, although I think it really could have been expanded and covered other examples of how two sides in various wars looked at their own pasts. It's a topic that really needs more exploration.
The old saying is “history is written by the victors.†However, after enough time, some people begin to question the “accepted†victor's view of a war and its events, as in this case.
One of the main things the book goes into is the Japanese view of the war, and how many Japanese consider themselves the victims of what happened. Some of these people still believe that Japan had to make war in order to preserve its own economy and traditions, since it was surrounded by colonial powers that had carved out most of Asia for themselves.
There is also the issue of the nature of bombing in the war. From the very start of the war, civilians were considered acceptable targets. The bombs that Germany dropped on Poland in 1939 made no distinction between civilians and military personnel. As the war wound on, there was sort of an attempt on the part of the Allies to hit military targets, but this basically ended when Britain started using carpet bombing, which tends to kill lots of civilians, and this approach found its expert use in the firebombing of Japanese cities which, in one case, killed more people than the atomic bomb did.
The book also discusses whether there was any actual need for the atomic bombs, since some reports and people believed that Japan would have surrendered by the end of the year anyhow. (I, personally, don't think they would have surrendered at all, and I think any actual invasion of the Japanese home islands would have been far bloodier than anything yet seen in the war.)
The book uses the name hibakusha for the Japanese survivors of the atomic bomb, although it doesn't really go into the problems that these people have in Japan, since they are often discriminated against by the Japanese.
(Also, something not actually covered in the book, was the type of hold the Japanese government had over the Japanese. The militarists had total control of the media (radio, newspapers, etc.) Dissenters ended up jailed or dead. )
This is basically a good book, although I think it really could have been expanded and covered other examples of how two sides in various wars looked at their own pasts. It's a topic that really needs more exploration.
July 21, 2015
In 1993, the National Air and Space Museum announced it would mount an exhibit of the Enola Gay, the plane which dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima. Museum Director Martin Harwit and staff envisioned an exhibit which would reflect on the decision to use the bomb on Japan and how it opened the world to the atomic age.
It wasn't long before all hell broke loose.WW2 veteran organizations, branches of the military and politicians grew increasingly disapproving about the exhibit focus, which they felt was insufficiently supportive of the narrative they embraced and perpetuated. Harwit was fired, museum staffers shaken and demoralized and the exhibit eventually mounted was a cursory one.
This volume is a collection of essays detailing this particular episode of scholarly historians being overruled in their efforts to re-examine historical events by a public hostile to scholarship and veterans who feel that they "own" the history they lived and have the sole right to interpret it.
But the writers also take a critical look at American culture at large and the American resistance to anything but the most simplistic view of the past.
People read less today - and read less history than perhaps any other field of study. It is discouraging to think that our view of history can and perhaps will be increasingly controlled by the people with the least objective intellectual currency: politicians.
It wasn't long before all hell broke loose.WW2 veteran organizations, branches of the military and politicians grew increasingly disapproving about the exhibit focus, which they felt was insufficiently supportive of the narrative they embraced and perpetuated. Harwit was fired, museum staffers shaken and demoralized and the exhibit eventually mounted was a cursory one.
This volume is a collection of essays detailing this particular episode of scholarly historians being overruled in their efforts to re-examine historical events by a public hostile to scholarship and veterans who feel that they "own" the history they lived and have the sole right to interpret it.
But the writers also take a critical look at American culture at large and the American resistance to anything but the most simplistic view of the past.
People read less today - and read less history than perhaps any other field of study. It is discouraging to think that our view of history can and perhaps will be increasingly controlled by the people with the least objective intellectual currency: politicians.
December 23, 2015
I finally finished this, now that the semester is over.
I already knew about the controversy over the Enola Gay exhibit from a class in undergrad, but the professor of that class suggested that, if I were interested, I could read this book. As I find the conflict between history and memory profoundly fascinating, I did (eventually) pick this up. The editors did make a concerted effort to collect articles that saw the conflict from both sides, but I think this following quote summarizes the primary conflict very well: "More disturbingly, no one, right or left, took issue with the assumption underlying such initiatives--that the federal government had the right to mandate historical interpretations" (181).
Some of the articles were more interesting to me than others, and a couple were somewhat repetitive, summarizing the lead-up to the exhibit and its controversy, but Marilyn B. Young's piece was certainly my favorite. I also quite enjoyed this quote, which certainly plays into the academia's freedom to interpret events or individuals: "It is one of the less visible ironies of the democratic system that the academy's freedom of expression rests securely on its being ignored" (206).
I already knew about the controversy over the Enola Gay exhibit from a class in undergrad, but the professor of that class suggested that, if I were interested, I could read this book. As I find the conflict between history and memory profoundly fascinating, I did (eventually) pick this up. The editors did make a concerted effort to collect articles that saw the conflict from both sides, but I think this following quote summarizes the primary conflict very well: "More disturbingly, no one, right or left, took issue with the assumption underlying such initiatives--that the federal government had the right to mandate historical interpretations" (181).
Some of the articles were more interesting to me than others, and a couple were somewhat repetitive, summarizing the lead-up to the exhibit and its controversy, but Marilyn B. Young's piece was certainly my favorite. I also quite enjoyed this quote, which certainly plays into the academia's freedom to interpret events or individuals: "It is one of the less visible ironies of the democratic system that the academy's freedom of expression rests securely on its being ignored" (206).
May 16, 2011
This is so interesting, and intensely frustrating at the same time. Basically all the chapters are different historians discussing the Enola Gay exhibit controversy at the Smithsonian in the 90s. 16 year old me must have not been paying much attention, because I don't remember this at all, but apparently it was a really big story, with congressional hearings and everything. Long story short, Congress decided that the job of the Air and Space Museum is to promote patriotism and happy thoughts about freedom and pie and flags and sweet jet planes, and not be an educational institution that encourages people to think about different viewpoints and take a critical view of history.
The only bad thing about this book, in my view, is that almost all the authors seem to agree with each other, so once you've read two or three essays in this book, you've basically read them all. There's an interesting section on remembering the war in Japan, that part was good. There are variations between the essays, it's not like they're carbon copies or anything, but they do get a little repetitive.
The only bad thing about this book, in my view, is that almost all the authors seem to agree with each other, so once you've read two or three essays in this book, you've basically read them all. There's an interesting section on remembering the war in Japan, that part was good. There are variations between the essays, it's not like they're carbon copies or anything, but they do get a little repetitive.
December 18, 2013
Possibly a 3.5 I read this some ten or twelve years ago (well before Goodreads), and I remember liking it. Nominally it is about the display of the Enola Gay at the Smithsonian's Nation Air and Space Museum to mark the 50th anniversary of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima. But at a deeper level it is about the struggle over the meaning of the bomb, whether it should or should not have been dropped, whether it should be 'celebrated' or 'criticized.' Do we relate what was thought at the time, or do we look at it from our perspective 50 years later. And these questions ultimately relate to who how history should be portrayed generally, and who gets to define it. Probably should be about 3.5 stars.
April 3, 2014
Read this for a grad class.
I really struggled with picking a number of stars to give this one. This is a very very important book. However, it could be about half as long - since it's a compilation of essays, it gets quite repetitive after a while.
Anyway. The fact that this happened frustrates the hell out of me, and I will force the first chapter or two of this book on anyone who gives me half a chance.
I really struggled with picking a number of stars to give this one. This is a very very important book. However, it could be about half as long - since it's a compilation of essays, it gets quite repetitive after a while.
Anyway. The fact that this happened frustrates the hell out of me, and I will force the first chapter or two of this book on anyone who gives me half a chance.
January 5, 2009
The essays in this book flow logically and are beautifully written. Put together Pre-9/11, the dangers of blinding jingoism and naive moralism seem like tame warnings now. These days, to question the heroic narrative of the US is to be un-American and these 8 historians make it clear just how stupid it is to support conservative historical amnesia. Highly recommended reading.
October 21, 2011
I skimmed this in college when it was assigned for a seminar I took, and I thought the subject was interesting enough to save it for a more thorough read later. It's about 8 years later and it doesn't make for very good non-class reading. It also feels very dated since it was written before 9/11, and the commemoration of that event is a more prevalent discussion topic these days.
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