Mr Gove and his horrible heptarchical history
Trying to cram in everything from Anglo-Saxon kingdoms to Thatcher is not only impossible but utterly wrong
I think that if I were a history teacher at an English school now it would be a good time to kill myself. Preferably using a method that the Education Secretary would approve of, such as opening my veins in the bath or indulging in a surfeit of lampreys.
Earlier this month Michael Gove published draft "Programmes of Study for History" in the national curriculum and invited responses to be in by April. The draft follows one of our periodic convulsions about two of our national neuroses in times of change: what's happening to our kids? And what's happening to our nation? Put them together and, given that we're not going to change anything at home, it usually means a shake-up in schools.
Just as everyone is an expert in marketing, everyone is an expert when it comes to education. We take our own school experience (however vaguely remembered), or whatever we have managed to pick up - between the "fine, Dad" and "it was OK"s - of our kids' school lives, and we generalise. Boy, do we generalise.
A few weeks ago the Guardian writer Martin Kettle came back from a play about Charles I that he'd seen with his grown-up son. The son confessed that "he had reached adult life knowing almost nothing about the English Civil War". Kettle felt this was a shocking statement. "The English need to learn their own history." Five days ago William Dalyrympe, the travel writer and historian, was worrying about another omission from the history lessons. "My own children", he complained, "learnt Tudors, and the Nazis over and over again in history class, but never came across a whiff of Indian history."
Dalrymple's concern, in the light of David Cameron's visit to the site of the 1919 Amristar massacre, was not national consciousness but that pupils were being deprived of a historical moral education. "Most people who go through the British education system", he claimed, "are wholly ill-equipped to judge either the good or the bad in what we did to the rest of the world." His argument, distilled, was this: children need to know, from studying the British Empire, that empires are always bloody businesses.
Yesterday on our own letters page was a roundrobinocracy of (mostly) right-of-centre historians, embracing the Govian proposals. Some of them are friends of mine and all of them are writers I enjoy reading. The letter I enjoyed less. "No pupil", they chorused, "should any longer be denied the chance to obtain a full knowledge of the rich tapestry of the history of their own country, in both its internal and international dimensions"
Children forget things. Maybe Josh had viola practice that day
I have written before that anyone using the phrase "rich tapestry" should be executed and I cannot make an exception for popular historians. Especially since what lies at the heart of their view was the assertion of a "special role" history has "developing in each and every individual a sense of their own identity".
So, there's the common assumption lying behind all this curricular upheaval - ie, that we don't teach much English history in English schools. And the only problem with this is that it's a myth. Look online at the curriculums for state schools and you'll see loads of English history, invariably including the English Revolution and usually something about the Empire. It's obvious what's happened here: pre-GCSE parents don't take that much notice of what their kids are doing in lesson-by-lesson detail, and children forget things they've been taught. Maybe Josh had viola practice that day, or Poppy was off with a cold.
Because blink and you've missed it. The historian David Cannadine took the unusual step a couple of years back of actually examining what schools did. He found that one big answer was "too much". With history not being compulsory after 14, a curriculum originally designed for eight years is being squeezed into six. They dash through it.
And now they'll dash through the centuries even more. And even more prescriptively if the draft becomes the curriculum. In Key Stage 2 (that's primary school, age 8-11) the draft begins: "pupils should be taught the following chronology of British History sequentially...[they] should be taught about key dates, events, and significant individuals. They should also be given the opportunity to learn about local history". And also "ancient civilisations".
There then follow 40 specified headings dealing with British history, to be taught in the 99 hours that the children will, on recommendation, have available to learn history in that three years. They include, at age 8, the "heptarchy" - an anachronistic term for seven Anglo-Saxon kingdoms - and "key developments in the reigns of Alfred, Athelstan, Cnut (good luck with that one on the whiteboard) and Edward the Confessor." Athelstan? The heptarchy? Oh, and by the way, since you are the Department of Education, it's just "Domesday book" not "the Domesday book".
At 11, Key Stage 2, pupils will encompass "the Enlightenment in England, including Francis Bacon, John Locke, Christopher Wren, Isaac Newton, the Royal Society, Adam Smith", oh sorry "and the impact of European thinkers". They'll do this, with another 60 specified headings in the 135 hours they have available. No illnesses. No staff absences. No snow days. Any of those and you'll wreck the tapestry.
From 8 to 14 English children will learn about history - with not one mention of China. Not one. The heptarchy, yes. The oldest civilisation on Earth and not its second largest economy? No.
I am amazed to have to write this but what lies behind this stupidity is a profoundly mistaken and ahistorical idea of what the discipline is. It's history as bastard civics. History with social and political objectives: to cement the nation, weave the tapestry, to "bring us together", to educate us morally. It's like demanding that physics concentrate on the achievements of British physicists or geography miss out the rainforests because you don't get many of those down our way.
This isn't the history I've loved all my life. History, the endless curiosity about how people lived; the discipline of discovering the past by using and evaluating sources, balancing claims, coming to senses of likeliehood and causality.
This is instead rote indoctrination, fuelled by anxiety and done at absurd speed. The citizens of tomorrow won't love it, won't recall it, and they won't thank us for it. So pass the lampreys.