Chance, good fortune, and imaginative planning conspired to bring four of Britain’s best known historians together in New York for a discussion of radicalism and history. Perry Anderson, Christopher Hill, E. J. Hobsbawm, and E. P. Thompson—four scholars whose work has helped shape British historiography generally, and Marxist historiography specifically, over the past forty years—spoke at Eugene Lang College of the New School for Social Research, New York City, on October 30, 1985.
The discussion of “The Agenda for Radical History: What Should History Teach Us?” centered on enunciating an agenda for radical historians. The four speakers agreed that, faced with belligerent funding agencies and aggressively conservative governments, historians should concentrate on protecting ground already won in areas such as social, women’s, and black history. Each speaker offered a slightly different prescription for defending that ground.
Following short introductions by Ira Katznelson (Dean of the Graduate Faculty, New School) and Margaret Jacob (Dean of Lang College and AHA Program Chair for 1986), each guest speaker addressed the topic at hand. Eric Hobsbawm, whose writings in labor history have ranged across wide chronological and thematic boundaries, opened the proceedings by outlining the state of historical studies in the English-speaking world. He referred to the ‘first Cold War’ as a precedent for the current second Cold War, in which conservative historians are crying “Back to Leopold van Ranke” and training their sights once more on the study of important people, significant events, and successful historical movements. Hobsbawm maintained that this conservative historiography is not, by and large, influencing academic historians; rather, public perceptions of the past and the distribution of research support for younger scholars are bearing the brunt of this reaction.
To resist the return to this “historical Stone Age” Hobsbawm advocated a readily accessible synthesis of recent research dealing with the history of “ordinary” people and an analysis of the development of the middle class.
The next speaker was Christopher Hill, a historian whose reputation rests on his extensive work on seventeenth-century Britain, and on his building a firm theoretical and empirical foundation for the concept of a mid-century English Revolution. Hill echoed the theme of consolidating the gains of the past two decades, particularly in the current political climate. He noted that the government of Margaret Thatcher ordered British universities to produce “patriotic history”; Hill suggested that radical historians should counter with a “radical patriotism” drawing on Britain’s extensive radical tradition in an effort to surmount the strong cultural bias against trends in British society antedating the Restoration of 1660. Why, he asked rhetorically, is the execution of King Charles I in 1649 not celebrated as a national holiday?
This example drew him into the larger theme of the absence of any truly revolutionary cultural tradition in the US and the dangers this poses to radicals in any field of endeavor. He advised young historians to avoid falling into the trap of allowing their studies to be compartmentalized; eclecticism and intellectual flexibility are vital prerequisites to survival in the academic world today. When budgets are cut, Hill noted, the “new” types of history are the first to go while “traditional” historical topics remain. What is “new” must be incorporated into mainstream historical curricula: women’s history, for example, must seek to place itself on an equal footing with diplomatic history in the eyes of the administrators and bureaucrats who determine budget allocations. Self-defense must come at all levels of historical inquiry: producers of history must seek to protect consumers from misrepresentations of the past and abuses of historical thought.
Following these two well-known aca demic historians was a self-professed “consumer” of history, Perry Anderson, former editor of the New Left Review and a visiting professor at the New School. Anderson brought with him an explicit “agenda for radical history” which, he hoped, would further develop the holistic view of history shaped by social historians and initiate an extensive analysis of historical causality as a philosophical concept.
He applauded attempts to bring the fruits of historical research within the purview of “the poor, the governed, and the exploited,” supporting Hobsbawm’s call for a new synthesis. Anderson’s radical agenda was rooted in “philosophical history” (but not a philosophy of his tory), which would serve as a starting point for an analysis of the interaction between causality and possibility (what might have been and the limits within which .change occurs, and thus what might realistically be in the future); and a new internationalism, the application of the “new” social and economic history to international relations.
Anderson’s agenda enunciated, the St. George of English historiography was next. E. P. Thompson, legendary slayer of historical stereotypes, the quintessential scholar-engagé, strode purposefully to the lectern and discoursed on his career and his prospects for the future. He opened with a lengthy prologue excusing his absence from historical inquiry during six years of peace activity; proclaimed that he was “bored” with many of the debates engendered by Marxism; and called for an end to the obfuscation practiced by those who equate all radicalisms with Marxism. Echoing themes touched on by Hobsbawm and Hill, Thompson warned of the dangers to open intellectual debate posed by the second Cold War and the financial constraints within academe that engender self-censorship. Any censorship, whether external or self-imposed, must be overcome by historians in an attempt to understand honestly the objective record of causal change represented by the past. Any such understanding can be only approximate at best, and is easily hampered by the prejudices and assumptions of the present (Thompson pointed for proof to the way historians define human needs economically and materially—in capitalist terms—when nonmaterial definitions couched in terms of the need for identity, status, and respect might be more accurate). Thompson’s agenda called for expanding connections between “town” and “gown,” between academics and the ”active world” beyond the campus. Such connections can and should be forged by radical historians as one component of a radical historical corpus, which must be well-documented, well-written, and free from partisan identification.
Historians must use ideas to change society, said Thompson, to make the forces of unreason (money, power) see the reason and necessity for radical change. Thompson concluded with a warning: historians, especially radical historians, must distrust the easy assimilation of ideas in a society capable of using the strongest challenge for its own ends.
Thunderous applause was followed by three discussants: Charles Maier (Harvard University) declared himself the representative of liberalism and was received with hisses and muted groans when he called for replacing women’s history with “family history”; J. R. Ravetz (University of Leeds) implored Marxists to bring their analytical tools to bear on the history of science; and Joan Scott (Institute for Advanced Study) summed up the proceedings clearly and concisely.
By now all were exhausted. The questions lacked bite and the panel patience. Structuralism was brushed aside, inter nationalism tersely discussed, and a lengthy statement by a well-known historian from the City University of New York met a bemused silence and a hasty response. Margaret Jacob promptly closed the proceedings.
Thus ended a unique occasion. The discussion of radical history is hardly new either to New York or to the four panelists whose presence commanded such attention. Anderson, Hill, Hobsbawm, and Thompson had never appeared on one stage together, and the opportunity to hear them was extraordinary. The speakers all emphasized the “radical agenda,” offering suggestions for the present and the future. Under pinning the discussion was an assumption that an understanding of the past can contribute positively to social change. To do so, it was frequently noted, history has to be morally “good.” Whatever one’s belief on those subjects, this was undoubtedly a significant event in the annals of transatlantic historiography.
