History is in a constant state of
revision. One of the things I try to explain to people is that if they read a
text, firstly, that text remains and can be re-read, and secondly, that when
they do re-read the text, they will approach it with different questions and,
thus, find different things in that text.
History is similar, I think. A historian,
whether amateur or professional, approaches the subject of interest with a set
of questions. These questions are framed by the current context of the historian.
Thus, for example, there is far more interest in Greek homosexuality now than
there was in, say, the Victorian era. This is not because the nature of ancient
Greek sex and sexuality has changed over the past century or so. How could it?
But our perceptions, our questions have altered. Homosexuality is now much more
visible in society and thus a historian is more likely to approach an ancient
society with a modern concern in mind.
I have noted before that
wargamers approach history with a set of questions in mind. They want to know
about units, tactics, generals, strength and make up of forces and so on. I
have also noted that often a wargamer has to turn away from the historical
sources disappointed. The required information simply does not exist. The
wargamer is reduced to plausible guess work and, possibly, imagination. Where historians
can stop and admit ignorance, the placing of wargame figures on a table
requires something definite.
I suppose the key word is ‘plausible’.
What actually counts is what was likely. How many hoplites was such and such a
city likely to be able to deploy? What was the likely role of twenty-thousand
lightly armed Arucarians? And so on. Even modern warfare is not immune from
that sort of question. Often the much lauded tables of organisation are ideal,
the hopes and dreams of administrators, rather than relating in any but a
general way to boots on the ground.
History, of course, takes its
twists and turns. We know, for example, in general turns of the relationship
between England and Scotland from, say, medieval times. We can find in the
reigns of Edward I, Edward II and Edward III various relations of power between
the two nations, including military power. We can trace this further through
history, via the Auld Alliance of France and Scotland and the vary relations
between the three nations, to the Scottish Reformation and, perhaps, the only
really welcome intervention of the English north of the border (at least by
part of the nation).
History, however, has a habit of
not stopping. We can describe the state of the border in Elizabethan times, and
how it was fairly brutally pacified under James VI and I, although that bit is
usually relegated to a foot note in history. We can also regard the intertwined
political, national and religious webs of the British Civil Wars of
mid-century, which led to the military defeat of the Scots. Interestingly, the
concept of the Scottish nation was not defeated in anyone’s head. Various
local, national and international states of affairs had combined to bring
about, say Dunbar.
Again, history was it is known
about today can focus in. there has been a fair fuss recently over the
discovery of a load of bodies in Durham which have been identified as Scots,
prisoners of war after the defeat at Dunbar. They were being moved south; the
war, after all, was still going. Things being as it were they were interred in
Durham where cold, poor food and disease killed many. They were buried.
Recently, the location of the
burials was discovered, although my colleague, who was brought up around Durham
observed that most of the locals knew they were there. But, to me somewhat bizarrely, an argument
started as to where they should be re-interred. Some argued for Durham, where
they had died. Some, however, wanted the bones returned to Scotland. I think
this really was rejected on practical grounds. Where in Scotland would the
bones be returned to? After all, Leslie’s army at Dunbar was national.
The interest is, of course, in
the mere fact of the argument at all. Somehow this discovery matters, and it
must matter on the grounds of what is happening now. That is recent political
developments makes an argument over 350 (or so) year old skeletons viable, and
it can be undertaken by serious people. Somehow, we find in this, that history
does matter, even though most people (including my colleague) express
bafflement as to why this particular argument is being had.
And so it loops around to
wargaming, historical wargaming in particular, but not exclusively. We
represent something, say from the past. And yet that representation of the past
is framed by our understanding of the present, by the questions we ask. Those
questions are, perhaps, answered by history as it is written now, and also
maybe by history as it was written then. There is not, cannot be, a complete
answer, however. The written history of now and the history of then cannot
completely overlap. Our knowledge is always incomplete; our worldview is always
rather different.
I do not exempt science fiction
or fantasy games from the above, because they are still representations of something
framed by the present. Often, if you dig deeply enough, you will find issues of
the present embedded in science fiction and fantasy. Lord of the Rings and A
Canticle for Leibowitz , for example, probably would not have been written but
for the experience of World War Two. Asimov’s Foundation Trilogy is an
interesting pivot between the fall of the Roman Empire and the concerns of
post-war America. And so on.
Our wargames, with their emphasis
on facts and knowledge of the numbers, arms and organisations of the armies of
the past, present or future (or some completely different place and time) do
show, therefore, some of the issues which our culture – technological,
bureaucratic, controlling, deterministic with acknowledged limits – has.
Maybe an interesting question is
whether we could imagine a different sort of wargaming, freed from some of
these concerns.