I read the lively exchange of messages about military uniforms with great
interest and discomfort, and have gone to the trouble of printing them out and
saving them, thinking they might be useful for some future project, currently
undefined and nebulous.  I think they are important and have much to say about
the symbolism of objects, the mission(s) of museums, the uses of history and
historical artifacts, and, not least, the power of words.  I hope you all will
indulge me in expressing some thoughts about uniforms and this debate before
the threads unravel.

I think some of the statements say a great deal about the fact that many
museum people are not happy unless all their museum colleagues subscribe to
the same uniform (pardon the expression) social agenda with which they want to
indoctrinate their viewers; they condemn "old-fashioned" museum displays
which, by failing to deconstruct "splendid" objects (i.e., negatively analyze
them), seem to imply approval.  In the case of military uniforms, they seem to
fear that unless the museum explicitly reminds the viewer that war is bad, he
or she will conclude that war must be splendid because it occasions such
splendid uniforms.  I wonder if perhaps we sometimes don't give museum
visitors enough credit: are we afraid they can't think for themselves?

A word about words: I have a feeling that this sometimes heated exchange might
never have occurred if the original announcement had not contained that potent
word "splendor."  Much of the debate concenns that single word.  Next,
consider the ancillary discussion of political correctness.  To the extent
that "political correctness" refers to wars over words, that assertion was
accurate, objections notwithstanding.  It is clear that in some circles the
use of the word "splendor" in connection with anything military is considered
politically incorrect.  While "political correctness" is a contemporary
phrase, referring derisively to a perception of the prevailing climate of
opinion, I suggest that political correctness is an ancient attitude.  Among
the Nazis it would have been politically incorrect to suggest that Jews and
Gypsies could be worthy human beings.  Political correctness implies
reductive, agenda-driven values.  It is entirely natural that those accused of
holding reductive, agenda-driven ideas chafe at being stereotyped.
Accusations and counter-accusations fly back and forth.  Museum exhibitions,
such as the Smithsonian's originally proposed Enola Gay display, imply or
accuse historical figures of having an unwholesome political or social agenda,
and are in turn accused of having a warped revisionist agenda.

Meanwhile, the historical artifacts themselves stand--or hang--mute, unable to
speak for themselves.  Factions tug at them, seeking to manipulate them to fit
one agenda or another.  Ideas and ideologies are like uniforms: however
similar, one size does not fit all.  There is something to be said for those
old-fashioned, context-starved exhibitions with simple labels containing
nothing but notes on makers, materials, and provenance (bearing in mind the
fact that the mere act of selection and sequence of artifacts for display
embodies an implicit idea, viewpoint, or agenda).  The viewer was supposed to
supply the context and interpretation, including personal prejudices, likes
and dislikes, rather than being TOLD what to think about the objects and their
meaning..

References have been made to the variety of contexts within which objects can
be read, and I heartily second that notion.  While "war" is an obvious context
for military uniforms, it is just as obviously not the only one possible.  In
fact, it is a facile, superficial, knee-jerk reaction.  "Uniform" does not
equal "war," nor does it equal male agression or domination.  People seem to
be reacting to the concept of "military," not "uniform."  Do the uniforms of
the United States Marine Band signify war to the same degree and in the same
way battle fatigues do?  I don't think so.  How about quasi-military uniforms
like those of the Salvation Army or the U.S. surgeon-general?  I don't think
so (I suggest a re-reading of Shaw's "Major Barbara" to suggest additional
contexts).

A few of the writers said museums "must," "should," or "shouldn't" do certain
things with their artifacts, which I find troubling.  I believe in academic
and curatorial freedom, and I grow weary of hearing critics make
pronouncements about what museums should or shouldn't do with their artifacts,
how they should or shouldn't display them, and what they should or shouldn't
say about them.  Too often, the claim that a museum "must" or "should" supply
"context" seems to mean that it should satisfy the critic's particular
predetermined agenda.  I reject the notion that a museum "must" supply the
context of war and killing in its display of military uniforms.

On the other hand, I certainly would not oppose an exhibition which would seek
to demythologize war by showing bullet-riddled artifacts and bloodied
uniforms, as the first (over)reaction proposed--as long as they're the "real"
thing (are there ghoulish curators who collect and preserve such items?)--but
I think artifically doctoring real uniforms in good condition might wouldn't
fit standard museum ethics.  Moreover, museum representations of death and
carnage are probably unnecessary: television, movies, and even sensational wax
museum exhibits have educated us well, thank you.  You'd have to live a pretty
sheltered life nowadays not to know in advance that war is hell.  What's wrong
with a glorious or "splendid" exhibition of uniforms which would help to
suggest how militarism can seem attractive and seductive?  That, it seems to
me, would be a challenging and educational exhibition.  To show only carnage
is to re-state the obvious.  I can think of other contexts in which to display
uniforms, some positive, some negative, some neutral.

Over the centuries, much blood has been shed by armies who didn't wear
uniforms at all, and I don't mean just naked Celts (although I suppose one
could argue that nudity was their unifying emblem).  Recently I watched the
French film "Queen Margot" and its description of the St. Bartholomew's Day
massacre, and no one seemed to require a uniform to do a very effective job of
butchering his perceived enemies.  Now if you want to argue that uniforms and
all the insignia of rank and status that go with them help to make armies more
effective, precise fighting machines, I'm sure that's a valid theory, but I
think a book would be a better medium for telling that story than a museum
exhibition.

I am personally opposed to war and killing, indeed totally opposed to capital
punishment under any and all circumstances--yet I am fully appreciative of the
power of the symbols of militarism and heroic ideals to rouse passions, and I
admit to taking delight in some of these--er--splendid symbols.

So shoot me.

--David Haberstich