Our book group just finished reading The Whites of Their Eyes by Jill Lepore. Lepore is a historian and spends a lot of time focusing on historical facts that contradict the tea party narrative. So the group spent some time discussing whether or not there is such a thing as verifiable fact, whether the truth is really knowable.
It is common in U.S. politics for the left to assert that they deal in fact, while the right deals in mythology. You can certainly make a case for that when it comes to, for example, sex education or evolution. But when I got home from the book club, I started thinking about another, similar discussion I had about facts and truth.
Me llamo Rigoberta Menchú y así me nació la conciencia is the testimonio of an indigenous Guatemalan woman. Menchú lived through Guatemala’s 36-year-long civil war, a war that resulted in an estimated 200,000 killed or disappeared and more than one million displaced. The book recounts the torture and murders of her family members and her journey from unknown indigenous woman to Nobel prize winner.
But the book caused controversy when anthropologist David Stoll started investigating some of the details. He found, for example, that witnesses claimed Rigoberta’s brother was shot rather than burned to death. He discovered that she had more education than claimed in the book. And he brought out information about an intra-indigenous land dispute that was not mentioned in the story and which he thought pertinent.
People on the left rushed to Menchú’s defense. They claimed that indigenous people had different senses of history and fact. They said it was common in testimonio to mix together stories of what happened to you and what happened to others, that there was not the same sense of individuation that we have. They claimed that whatever facts might be off, the overall story that she told is accurate. Her book conveys how the war effected indigenous communities.
Although I was one of the few people in class who actually sympathized with some of Stoll’s arguments, I also had to admit that the facts in question didn’t really matter much to the overall truth of what she said. As a writer, I know that there are some truths that I could probably only face in fiction. And I suspect that Arundhati Roy, in the introduction to Field Notes on Democracy, is onto something when she says,
As a writer, a fiction writer, I have often wondered whether the attempt to always be precise, to try and get it all factually right somehow reduces the epic scale of what is really going on. Does it eventually mask a larger truth? I worry that I am allowing myself to be railroaded into offering prosaic, factual precision when maybe what we really need is a feral howl, or the transformative power and real precision of poetry.
I believe that. I believe sometimes you can get mired in the details and lose site of what is important. And I believe that your belief system, your narrative, your ideology – they determine which facts you pursue. So the motivation behind the pursuit is often more important than the facts themselves.
The reason that the left reacted so violently to Stoll is that they wondered what his motivation was in going after Rigoberta Menchú in the first place. As I thought about that, I realized that one of the reasons I really disliked Lepore’s book was that I was suspicious about her motivations for writing it. And my suspicions were very soon confirmed by how she approached the issue.
She mocks the Tea Party. It isn’t the kind of obvious mocking that you would get on The Daily Show. In fact, she makes herself seem like a very reasonable person who sat down and talked to them. It is a subtle, intellectualized mocking where she points out all the facts they get wrong and glosses over or trivializes the things they get right. Right at the beginning of the book she says,
But the Tea Party’s Revolution wasn’t just another generation’s story – it was more like a reenactment – and its complaint about taxation without representation followed the inauguration of a president who won the electoral vote 365 to 173 and earned 53 percent of the popular vote. In an age of universal suffrage, the citizenry could hardly be said to lack representation. (emphasis mine)
Really? I think there are about 5 million people in prison or felon disenfranchised who might disagree. There are millions of undocumented immigrants who might disagree. There are lots of young adults under 18 who might disagree. And most of us eligible voters don’t feel represented by the customary choices of Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee. That’s why we don’t usually bother to vote. But thanks for dismissing us with one fell swoop of “facts.”
If you have been reading this blog for a while, you know I have a somewhat different take on the Tea Party crowd. I think the Tea party is right that they are not represented. I think they have been hella slow figuring it out. I don’t know how to reach some of those people, but I am certain that combing through their words to find every fact they have wrong is not the way to do it. Inconvenient facts are great for winning a debate, but not necessarily helpful for reaching an understanding.
I am not claiming that facts do not matter at all. I won’t go so far as to say nothing is knowable. But I do think that we select what facts to go after and what facts to use. We can as easily use facts to obscure the truth as to uncover it. Facts and truth have a more complicated relationship than might seem to be the case and sometimes you have to go beyond facts to get at truth.