“The Time of Monsters”: History in Challenging Times

By Andrew Nurse and Roberta Lexier

A crisis, Italian Marxist Antonio Gramsci wrote in response to the rise of fascism in the 1930s, occurs when: “The old order is dying and the new one is struggling to be born.” His point was that the crises societies experience have specific – if far from simple – historical causes. They also have serious implications: “Now,” he continued, “is the time of monsters.” 

Those monsters are all around us: the resurgence of fascism, an intensification of hard power in international politics, the collapse of the rules-based order, deceit on a level that is, in fact, so common that some have suggested we live in a “post-truth” culture, a dramatic effort to recast the meaning and implications of the past in ways that erase the work of a generation of scholars.  The monsters, Gramsci reminds us, are grounded in our particular historical conjuncture. 

We live in difficult times, characterized by extreme economic inequality, overlapping global health pandemics, a climate crisis, and the breakdown of liberal-democratic politics, however incomplete they have been in practice. Systems and structures and ideas developed over centuries – the nation-state, constitutional democracies, the ideal of universal human rights and the rule of law, free-market capitalism, and indeed our very ability to live on this planet – face concerted attack. 

For historians, this has significant implications: the suppression and destruction of critical sources; the outright rejection of evidence (broadly defined); book bans; threats to tenure and academic freedom; censorship; and the weaponization of the past by divisive forces.

As one recent example: the American federal government has instructed the U.S. National Parks Service to remove a memorial to enslaved persons at Philadelphia’s Independence National Park because it supposedly “disparaged” the United States. In Canada, residential school denialism has ardent advocates who have vandalized memorials to missing and murdered Indigenous children and relatives. 

For historians, this crisis may also be an opportunity – we would argue, an obligation, even – to apply our knowledge, our training, our disciplinary approach and perspectives to the current moment. The crisis – this time of monsters – often leaves us with more questions than answers. 

This post is the first in a series of essays that address our present moment, the responses of historians to it, and some – but not all – of the issues with which historians grapple. Issues to be addressed include: 

• Explaining the complex range of factors led us here – settler colonialism, white supremacy, unrestrained capitalism, de-industrialization, nationalism, and populism, to name but a few – and the varied responses from individuals, groups, governments, and others to these developments. 
• Asking whether these times are really unprecedented.  What parallels – if any – from the past might be instructive in the present? How can the past serve as a resource for the present? 
• Countering erroneous and destructive interpretations of the past that serve to further marginalize and exclude particular groups and individuals. How has history been involved constructively in public culture? How can it become better involved? 
• Considering alternative systems, structures, and ideas from across the millennia in order to demonstrate the choices that humans make – and still make – that shape our communities. 
• Evaluating the allure of authoritarianism for different peoples. What is the language in which their concerns are expressed? Does this language point to specific historical processes? 
• Discussing changes in Canada’s relationship to the United States and the American-led global order.
• Locating the current crises in a particular relationship to nature and the planet. 

We are not the first generation to ask these questions, of course. The work of critical theorists in the past – Theodore Adorno, Max Horkheimer, Erich Fromm – as well as penetrating studies by Susan Sontag and Hannah Arendt, stand out as particularly instructive. 

In his work Escape from Freedom, Erich Fromm argued the drift toward what he called authoritarian politics was part of a wider historical transition through which western society was passing. Fromm generally saw history through what we would call a whig lens, insisting that the history of Europe was a story of the progressive expansion of freedom from the repressive forces of class, religion, and state. It was driven by a class conflict whereby lower classes progressively expanded the scope of individualism and freedom. This was, he believed, a remarkable achievement. But, this achievement was bought at a price; individualism was also a site of anxiety and fear, which caused people to shrink from its full realization and drift toward an authoritarianism which, for them, promised security and a sense of belonging. 

Susan Sontag argued along an analogous ground. Fascism, she contended in what is perhaps her most famous essay, exercised a profound and disturbing appeal in contemporary western society. It was far more deeply embedded in western culture than most people realized and so was always a potential threat to the democratic political and cultural enterprise. Cultural industries, she believed, naturalized fascist aesthetics and perspectives. 

These perspectives suggest another series of questions. What is the genealogy of right-wing populism, where and how was it embedded in culture? How have people responded to the fragility of democracy and what were the boundaries and limits of democratic conceptions of freedom, equality and individuality? What is the draw of populism, especially right-wing populism? 

In this series, we ask historians to engage with these current realities through historical analyses, personal reflection, or both. We invite contributions that address these or other issues pertaining to this topic. Our lists of crises and questions are not exhaustive. In fact, they likely shouldn’t be. 

How did we get here? What does “here” look like for the discipline? For others? How can the past inform our path forward? How can historians influence the future? How can we promote an accurate and  constructive historical culture? 

Posts should be approximately 1000 words in length and can include illustrations or another visual component. Please contact Andrew Nurse (anurse@mta.ca) and/or Roberta Lexier (rlexier@mtroyal.ca) with any questions and/or submissions.  We look forward to hearing from you.