The role of the historian is to catalog and interpret events which have occurred in the past and to weave them into a meaningful narrative for people in the present. Typically we think of history as the broader story of a nation or of a people. But history is made up of minute interactions between individuals on an every-day scale. And it is these every-day interactions between people which forms the basis of police work.
As we are taught by countless television crime dramas like CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, police try to solve criminal cases by looking for perpetrators who have the means, motive and opportunity to commit crime. What this means in a broader sense is that police investigators are a type of historian. They look at events in the past (crimes) and try to explain them in a meaningful way. We call the conclusions and meaning that they derive from their historical investigations “justice.” Justice is a genre of narrative or story-telling in which a person (or group) is victimized in a crime, and in which the person responsible is found and punished appropriately. If the plot points conform to this narrative within reasonable parameters, we say “Justice is served.” If not, then we worry about things like a “miscarriage of Justice.”
On most of these shows, the police go to great lengths and sometimes great personal risk to find out who and why a particular crime was committed. The intrepid investigators almost always prevail by solving the mystery and catching the bad guy. In the investigative process, we will see those concerned trying out many narratives to make sense of the situation and of the forensic evidence which they have collected. In one, the perpetrator will be the husband. In another twist, the bad guy will be a stalker ex-boyfriend. In a third interpretation of the same events, it might be revealed that the killing was completely random or accidental. But the common denominator in most of these shows is that one explanation is ultimately settled on. Whether or not it is indisputably proven or thrown out in court later, the police always end up knowing who the bad guy was and why he did it.
History in a broader sense is hardly ever as black and white as it is on television crime dramas like CSI. Crimes in real life aren’t always solved - or sometimes even properly investigated. And when no crime is committed, historians are often left with scant evidence to conduct their own investigations. They may have to rely on second, third and fourth hand accounts of events which happened hundreds or thousands of years before DNA identification, finger-print databases or blood-splatter analysis techniques were even invented.
As a result, historians too will go through countless narrative iterations to come up with a story about the past that “makes sense” to people today. When it comes to history, we may not be looking for justice so much as we are looking to understand how we stand in relation to that which has come before us. The Da Vinci Code offers an excellent example of how this works on a cultural level.
While the novel itself is a work of fiction, it has provided people with a new story (well, new for most people), a new narrative explanation concerning the life of Christ and the history of the Church and the world as a whole afterwards. Since we don’t have conclusive evidence of what happened - such as video footage, for example - we find ourselves in the position of having to reinterpret old information based on the new narrative theory. As you may have seen, a huge cottage industry has sprung up around the Da Vinci Code - either trying to refute it, to expand on it, or to offer alternative explanations. What many church groups are attempting to do, of course, is to settle on one explanation. Like the CSI investigators, they believe that “justice has already been served” and that the historical evidence has been both explained and uplifted by the commonly accepted traditional story of Christ’s life and teachings.
And yet for the rest of us, we relish the opportunity to do some investigative work for ourselves. We enjoy sifting through the forensics of history, combing over ancient documents and works of art, looking for clues that others may have missed. And really, you can’t blame us. The heroes of our pop culture in both television and movies are so often police on a quest to uncover the ultimate truth. They are teaching us about nothing unless they are teaching us about how history works, about the push and pull between theory, evidence and other forces. And they teach us about the powerful human need to “close the case” - to finally settle on one explanation and move on with our lives.
It makes for effective drama, that much is certain. But is it always an accurate reflection of life? Are the mysteries of day to day existence ever really conclusively solved? Or does their importance simply fade as we move farther away from them in time? Who says we have to ever settle for one explanation? What if no explanation ever really satisfies all the conflicting evidence of something? What if the original experience - as in the case of Christ - goes outside the realm of accepted human reality? It may be that for ordinary events, like “Who rear-ended my car?” there may be one single satisfactory explanation. But it may also be that the “why” of it all, we can never really settle. Did they mean to hit my car? Did their breaks fail? Were they stopping short to avoid hitting a squirrel in the road?
The thing I like about the ubiquitous cop shows today is that they give us the tools and imagery to ask these questions and they encourage us to look for the truth. I believe that the most powerful lesson we can take from them though is to internalize this process of searching and explaining. Do your own research. Get out in the field and ask questions. Don’t always settle for the simple solution. Be prepared to change and grow and let go of your preconceived notions as you search and explore. And if you do finally settle on one final explanation, be sure you’re doing it because you know it’s the truth, not because your one hour television slot is drawing to a close and the audience demands a satisfying conclusion.
