To the purblind Deweyites political history was elitist; to the powerful
few it was politically dangerous--then and always. "Throughout history,"
as FitzGerald rightly notes (though, alas, only in a passing remark), "the
managers of states have with remarkable consistency defined good citizenship
as a rather small degree of knowledge of, and participation in, public affairs."
To replace political history with Deweyite social studies was the perfect
means of meeting the educational requirements of the powerful. In social
studies, American youngsters would learn that America was chiefly an industrial
system and not a republic at all, that a "good citizen" is a worker
who gets up when the alarm clock rings and speeds to his job on time. In
social studies, too, they would learn that the "real" history
of America is the "development" of American industry--history
without politics in it, which teaches the most corrupt of political lessons,
that politics does not matter. Pedagogical wit could scarcely devise a better
instrument for ensuring "a rather small degree of, and participation
in, public affairs. To replace political history with social studies has
been the abiding goal of America's educational leaders since ordinary Americans
began attending high school. Interestingly enough, it took them more than
half a century to register a complete triumph.