Wednesday, March 9, 2011

The Intimacy of Research

Recently, I have been reflecting on my MTSU graduate class on the Third Reich in preparation for teaching my World Civilizations class about World War II, and I just realized something intensely interesting. For research projects in my class, we were to select Nuremberg Trial defendants, and use trial documents, cases and evidence, to write lengthy papers. I chose Alfred Jodl, cheif of staff of the German Armed Forces High Command (Oberkommando der Wermacht). The tribunal ruled him guilty and hanged him after the trial. His case was unique in that, until then, no military chief of staff had been held accountable for war crimes.

As I began delving into the case records, including prosecution and defense. Some of the trial defendants, notably Rudolph Hess, became (arguably) mentally unstable through the course of the trial, but Jodl remained dutiful, proud, and kept his cell organized and clean. As I researched him, I gained more and more respect for the man. Though there was no firm evidence to confirm or deny his knowledge of war crimes or crimes against humanity, I began to convince myself of his ignorance, so as to see him in a positive way. His mournful testimony upon being presented with evidence of the Holocaust or other crimes convinced me of his ignorance. In retrospect, though, I wonder if I had merely developed a relationship with Jodl by researching him so intensely.

Could interest in a research subject tamper historical objectivity? I supposed it could, sure, but perhaps it was merely Jodl's personality and station that I respected. Soon, however, I recalled my research project for my capstone undergraduate history class. That project stemmed from researching the Watergate scandal. In that project, I studied H. R. Haldeman, President Nixon's chief of staff. I read Presidential memoirs, as well as conflicting evidence from different members of Nixon's staff and CREEP. The core of my research, though, was in Haldeman's diaries, which he kept rigorously throughout his White House career.

Over the course of each project, I developed a respect for my subject as I learned more about their past and personalities. Many considered "Bob" Haldeman a bully, and Jodl was convicted of war crimes and crimes against humanity. Arguably, both men were almost unanimously disliked and had reputations for their alleged crimes.

Both research papers argued for the, somewhat, innocence of the subject. I argued that Haldeman had no prior knowledge of the Watergate incident in the first, while in the second I argued that Jodl should have had a lesser sentence, perhaps life in prison, rather than execution for his part in the Nazi crimes of WWII.

I can now see that as I researched the men, I became more and more intimately connected with the subjects of my studies. Does it render my research invalid? Probably not, but it does bear some consideration. Perhaps review of my papers' arguments would allow me to see holes in my reasoning, but I'd like to hope that my training as a historian allowed me to remain somewhat objective. Hopefully, the threat of intimacy in research was tamed by historical need for truth, evidence, and objectivity.

What, then, are we to do with such threats to historical impartiality? I know that there is much to be gained from stepping back from research projects so as to bring (somewhat) new eyes to the documents, but perhaps even more care must be taken to acknowledge potential for growing respect and fondness for the subjects of historical research. I can assure you that I will be telling my students about such dangers whenever I someday teach students about the research and writing of history. Like most potential threats to objectivity, or perhaps even accuracy, historians must acknowledge this connection and take care to limit its interference with historical value and validity.