Is it Ignorance or is it Foolishness?

The Imitation Game and Selma

      These two films that recently made it into theaters treat very different 20^th century subjects, both of the greatest historical importance. Both are seriously flawed—the first in multiple distortions or worse of wie es eigentlich gewesen ist, while the second is primarily guilty of single, but deeply serious, mistreatment of history. The second deviation from the truth about what happened is considerably more important, since American movie goers ought not to be misled about an episode that took place in their country during their own lifetime or not long before, while getting straight the story of a brilliant British mathematician that took place in Britain during the second World War does not quite have the same urgency.

   For both accounts of what’s wrong with those films, I am indebted to articles in the New York Review of Books and I hope I am not violating copyright laws by referring them to you here; read them. “Saving Alan Turing from His Friends” by Christian Caryl,

http://www.nybooks.com/articles/archives/2015/feb/05/saving-alan-turing-his-friends/    

and ‘Selma’ vs. History by Elizabeth Drew, http://www.nybooks.com/blogs/nyrblog/2015/jan/08/selma-vs-history/

   There is no way I can summarize the litany of goofs that beset the Turing movie. I myself knew very little about Turing: only that he was (somehow) crucially instrumental in breaking the German code during World War II, that he was the creator of an essential step on the path toward the creation of computers, and that he had been prosecuted for being gay. The film is about Turing’s central role in the successful British effort to decipher messages sent by the German Enigma Machine (see the extensive Wikipedia article with that title)—a cryptographical effort that contributed as significantly to the Allied victory, it is said, as did General Eisenhower.

   This broad point is of course made in the film; without it there wouldn’t be such a one. But little of the way that happened, not to mention the way Turing is depicted, Mr. Caryl convincingly relates, conforms to what is reliably known about Turing and that historical code-breaking effort. No, Turing was not “a dour Mr. Spock who is disliked by all of his coworkers.” Rather, he “was an entirely willing participant in a collective enterprise that featured a host of other brilliant intellects who happily coexisted to extraordinary effect.” The military supervisor of the enterprise, “Turing’s blimpish nemesis, was actually an experienced cryptanalyst with over two decades of experience by the start of the war.” And so much much more: read Caryl’s article.

   One now one must ask why do the creators of this film about an actual person and an important historical passage get it so wrong. One is tempted to rule out ignorance of the man and these events,

since much has reliably been written about both. And yet I can’t quite rule it out, since self-confidence to the point of arrogance is capable of overriding the need search for reliable information. The only other reason I can come up with is the makers of The Imitation Game believe that their “version” of the story will attract a larger audience than what actually happened, because it is more interesting, more engaging, potentially more popular than one that is true to the facts. To that, a one word reply: Bullshit.

   The deviations from the truth in the other recent historical film, Selma, is at once limited to a single issue, but a considerably more significant one. It can be treated quite briefly.

   Elizabeth Drew: “The film suggests that there was a struggle between [Martin Luther] King and [President Lyndon Baines] Johnson over whether such a bill should be pushed following the passage of the 1964 Civil Rights Act, signed into law in July of that year. The clear implication is that Johnson was opposed to a voting rights bill, period, and that he had to be persuaded by King.” That suggestion is flatly false. The president and King had agreed from the outset that there would have to be voting rights legislation and they agreed about ways in which popular support for such a bill could be generated, so as to push Congress to act favorably. Ms. Drew cites much evidence in support of the thesis that the two protagonists collaborated and completely without friction.

   Why this distortion of history? “in order to make it more ‘dramatic’ and add ‘buzz,’” speculates Elizabeth Drew; and she may well be right. But I suspect a second motive as well: to elevate the stature of Martin Luther King, by having him “win” an argument with the president of the United States about an historically important issue—especially for African-Americans who would be a significant portion of the film’s audience.

   If so, this twisting of history was a deeply misguided move. Being the president’s collaborator is a much greater distinction for King than winning an argument. The truth is that those two leaders together—as partners—brought about a monumental change under difficult circumstances—remember that in 1965 the Senate contained such powerhouses as Strom Thurmond and James Eastland. Being the President’s partner in so important and difficult an enterprise is a distinction that does not even compare with winning an argument.

   What is very sad indeed, as is pointed out in the present article and elsewhere, is that far more people will become acquainted with an LBJ and a MLK that never existed than will be taught by the history books that state the truth. Sad, very sad.