If you’ve gone through any version of the American school system, you can probably recite the preamble by heart. You probably know that Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean blue in 1492 and the Declaration of Independence was signed in 1776, plus a bundle of other hard-to-remember dates that have been drilled into you throughout various history classes over the years. However, not only do our victories make the history books, but our tragedies as well. We’ve learned, at length, about the Holocaust, slavery, segregation and the many other dark spots that plague the past and leave imprints of pain to this day. There’s a clear emphasis in and outside the classroom placed on understanding the negative events of the past, despite our general aversion to dwelling on our mistakes.
As I write this article, we are near the end of Muharram, the first month of the Islamic lunar calendar. For Shia Muslims like myself, the first 10 days of Muharram are dedicated to remembering and mourning the tragedy of Karbala, a battle without which we believe Islam would not exist today. We spend time listening to informative lectures and majalis, detailed and poetic descriptions of the events that occurred on the 10th of Muharram, known as Ashura. I find that the critiques Shia Muslims receive from other sects regarding our insistence on placing such significance on Ashura mirror the arguments against remembering the terrible histories of any society. We are often told to leave the past in the past, or that there’s no use in mourning what happened thousands of years prior.
In an effort to explore this idea, I wanted to look into why we should learn history, specifically upsetting history, as a part of our curriculum. Without comparing different devastating events to one another, I was curious as to the power of learning and relearning the past. We’ve all heard the rhetoric “ignorance is bliss,” but just as common is the phrase “history repeats itself.” There are unfortunate patterns of suffering across history — war, oppression and poverty, to name a few — and despite attempts made to break these curses and propel the future into an upward trajectory, it seems that we are doomed to repeat the mistakes of our ancestors. Even without direct repetition of history’s mistakes, clear threads of hurt follow from most, if not every, major historical event. Just because slavery as we knew it doesn’t exist today doesn’t mean its echoes don’t remain; the same can be said for other events. Still, in the present moment, we have the advantage of hindsight and the ability to see the consequences of decisions made in the past in order to use that information to carve a more promising tomorrow.
As Grace Tatter writes for the Harvard Graduate School of Education, “History is inherently political.” There is no avoiding the discomfort that inevitably comes with exposing our dark history, nor any benefit to pretending it doesn’t exist. In America, educators and politicians alike have posed several debates of this nature on the topic of critical race theory. Racism, and the way teachers should approach it in the classroom, will never be a “convenient” topic to bring up. The way we interpret history depends on how we learn it, and the way we learn it depends on who has a say in the curriculum. Tatter discusses how when it comes to racism’s place in American history, it’s less about interpretation and more about the facts. If we omit slavery and the subsequent Jim Crow laws from history books, it’s a lot more difficult to make sense of why American society looks the way it does today, where there is a significant racial wealth gap between Black and white households and where Black Americans make up a disproportionate percentage of the prison population.
What we understand about the country’s past clearly lends itself to the way we interpret present day events, and that is why it’s so important for our history lessons to not only mention, but go into depth about issues like racism. Otherwise, we risk collectively building our American identity on the events we ignore, rather than properly dissecting the country’s past and choosing to build our nationalism on something we believe in.
One of the only things I remember from elementary school social studies is the Underground Railroad. Vividly, I can recall being amazed at the resilience and bravery of the people who were able to escape slavery through this system. Like others, I was so sure that my family, had we been around at the time, would have been a part of the solution — we would have kept our porch light on and housed as many freedom seekers as we could fit. But this story of hope and happy endings cannot exist without the story of the people who were not as lucky, who could not escape the horrors of slavery and instead lived, suffered and died under its dehumanizing institution. It would be dishonest and unjust for us to ignore the terrible reality of slavery, one that millions of people endured, and instead opt to only tell the happy-go-lucky version of the story. In order to ethically tell history, we must adhere to a certain level of honesty and impartiality. It is important for us to stray away from “myth-making,” as Daniel Little, former University of Michigan-Dearborn chancellor, describes, and look at history exactly the way it is.
This is important for not just slavery, but every other historical atrocity. In his paper on the philosophy of history, Little argues that we have a moral obligation “… to discover, represent, and understand the circumstances of our past, even when those facts are deeply unpalatable.” Learning about history is about more than just what knowledge of that history can do for us, but also what we owe to past generations given our opportunity to do what they couldn’t and expose their oppressors. Though we may not be able to right past wrongs, we can ensure that those lost to genocide, oppression, war or slavery are never forgotten.
On their website, the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization lists out some of the reasons behind teaching and learning about the Holocaust. Among them is that by educating ourselves about the horrors of the Holocaust, we can better understand and reflect upon modern issues that originate within the same dark roots of prejudice and the abuse of power. We might like to think such atrocities only exist in the faraway past, and that here in the golden present, we have nothing to be ashamed of. However, this could not be further from the truth.
Today, all around the world, several humanitarian crises are begging for our attention. From the occupation of Palestine, to the civil war in Sudan, to gang violence in Haiti — everywhere you look, there is a terrible injustice being carried out with a terrifying similarity to injustices of the past.
Learning about history is not an excuse to ignore the pressing issues of the present. Rather, it should serve to call us to action and urge us to do something before it’s too late. When it comes to discussions about the Underground Railroad, Civil Rights Movement protests, the hiding of Jews during the Holocaust or any other past heroic act, we seem to have full faith that we would be able to do the right thing. It is easy to listen to Martin Luther King Jr. say “I have a dream” with tears in our eyes, to learn about villains like Adolf Hitler or Joseph Stalin and think, “How could they?” But, it is not enough to merely shake our fists at the oppressors of both the past and the present, nor to applaud those who are part of the solution. If we ourselves cannot take the actions necessary in the here and now to make positive change, we are just as much at fault as the aggressors. It’s hypocritical to feel so strongly about history and yet be so apathetic to the events in the present. We must take action to avoid becoming the very thing we swear to rebuke, or else we will find ourselves stuck in the endless loop of history fueled by those of us so comfortable with our existence and the reassurance of hindsight, that we forget the importance of critically looking within as well. To be a bystander is not just to do nothing but to ignore the moral obligation we have to help others whenever possible.
When it comes to Ashura, there are similar lessons to be learned. A common phrase you might hear uttered in Shia mosques during Muharram and beyond is: “Ya laytana kunna ma’akum fa nafooza fawzan azeema,” which translates from Arabic to “How we wish we were with you so we would earn a great achievement.” We say this both in reference to the great honor it would be to die alongside our Imam and to the fact that he was severely outnumbered by his enemies. However, as a Shia myself, I will be the first to say that instead of solely thinking about what we would do had we been around on Ashura, we should focus on how we can show our loyalty to the Imam in the present time, such as by giving charity, volunteering and preserving Islamic values.
Every day, we have the chance to stand up for what we believe in — whether that is through peacefully protesting, donating money, calling our representatives or otherwise. It is our actions today that determine the history of tomorrow, and through our own hard work, we can hopefully move toward finally learning from our mistakes and making progress in our pursuit of a better, more just world. While it’s true that we might never run out of lessons to learn or steps to climb in this journey, it is this constant battle of effort that allows us to grow and improve. Sometimes, we must sit in the discomfort of uncovering a hard truth if we want the opportunity to progress as a society, and we owe it to future generations to start sifting through our negative history sooner rather than later.
MiC Columnist Amany Sayed can be reached at amanysay@umich.edu.
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