Can We Truly Know the Past?

Understanding historical knowledge

Can we truly know the past? We believe many things about events that occurred hundreds or even thousands of years ago, but is it really possible to know what happened with confidence? When I see a jar of milk in front of me, I have reasonable confidence it's there because I can see it, touch it, and interact with it directly. But when it comes to history, we must trust many intermediaries: written documents, archaeological records, inferences based on cause and effect, and various forms of evidence. We must find reliable witnesses to past events and trust that the evidence reflects what actually happened.

This is different from saying "history repeats itself" in a general sense. What I'm examining is how we write about, think about, and argue about specific historical events. For most of us, certain historical facts seem beyond dispute—Caesar crossed the Rubicon, Jesus existed, and there was a Second World War. To deny these facts stretches credibility. But particular details of the past are more difficult to prove.

The Limits of Historical Evidence

What was everyday life like for someone in rural Rome in the third century? What kinds of plates did they use? What rituals did they practice? The life of the average person is poorly documented since common people weren't part of the writing class. Much material evidence has disappeared over time, and elite writers rarely detailed the lives of ordinary people. Consequently, we have significant gaps that we must fill through evidence-based arguments and persuasive rhetoric.

As David Bebbington explains in his book Patterns in History, historical writing relies on arguments based on evidence and rhetoric to make those arguments persuasive. This evidence may be primary (documents or artifacts from the time period) or secondary (derivative sources discussing the period). Ten people examining the same evidence might reach similar broad conclusions but differ in their specific interpretations based on their own experiences, assumptions, and ideas.

Evidence, Argument, and Rhetoric in History

Evidence only gains meaning within the context of an argument about the past. If you want to claim that Greek triremes had certain features, you must argue that the archaeological and documentary evidence supports your conclusion. Someone else might examine the same evidence and reach different conclusions. For example, Homer's Odyssey describes Greek ships as black, which doesn't always match how we portray them today.

Whatever historical argument you make, you use evidence to support it and rhetoric to persuade others of its validity. This process relies on judgment, but not arbitrary judgment. Historians use criteria to strengthen their arguments. For instance, if a source admits something unfavourable to their cause (like the Romans acknowledging defeat by Hannibal), that admission gains credibility precisely because it works against their interests.

Biblical History as a Test Case

The Bible provides an interesting test case for understanding the nature and limits of historical knowledge. In the West, it might be the most publicly debated text in academic circles. Nearly every word, sentence, clause, and idea has been analyzed historically, theologically, and philosophically.

In the 19th century, scholars like Julius Wellhausen applied general historiographical methods to the Bible to assess its historical accuracy. They identified what appeared to be different layers of tradition within texts like Genesis, noting editorial comments such as "at this time the Canaanites lived in the land." Since Genesis contains material over 3,000 years old without obvious material evidence (unlike the American Civil War), scholars must rely more heavily on inference, textual analysis, and comparative studies.

Conservative scholars responded by using the same historical methodology but reaching different conclusions. While liberal scholars argued for multiple authors and later dating of texts, conservatives maintained traditional views about authorship (such as Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch).

The Role of Bias in Historical Interpretation

Are both groups examining the evidence objectively, or are they bringing their own biases? Clearly, both bring biases that affect their interpretation of evidence. Liberal scholars might approach the Bible as they would any ancient text, identifying layers of tradition based on internal evidence. Conservatives might argue these layers are inferential constructs not directly observable in the manuscripts themselves.

As Brevard Childs notes in his Introduction to the Old Testament as Scripture, conservatives adopted the same methodology as liberals to argue for biblical truthfulness, but this created a circular pattern. History is inherently indirect and inaccessible to us directly. Any historical argument relies on evidence, probability, argument, and rhetoric.

Faith, Miracles, and Historical Knowledge

Ultimately, regarding the Bible, we rely on the testimony of biblical authors. Peter claims to have witnessed Jesus's baptism and transfiguration; Paul says he saw the resurrected Jesus; John states, "we have seen and touched and felt the Lord Jesus." The question becomes: Are they trustworthy?

Christians add that the Holy Spirit inspired Scripture, making it trustworthy. But this introduces the concept of miracles, which many secular historians would exclude from historical arguments. This creates a dilemma for conservative historians who must exclude a key part of their belief system from their historical methodology.

CS Lewis on Miracles and History

C.S. Lewis addresses this issue in his book Miracles, where he notes:

“The accounts of the ‘miracles’ in the first-century Palestine are either lies or legends, or history, And if all, or the most important, of them are lies or legends then teh claims which Christianity has been making for the last two thousand years is simply false. No doubt it might even so contain noble sentiments and moral truths. So does Greek mythology; so does Norse. But that is quite a different affair” (p 127).

If miracles can happen, then the parting of the Red Sea could be historical. The scope of history must be broader than many modern historians allow. Interestingly, many people find the idea of ancient aliens giving secret knowledge to humans speculative but possible, while dismissing biblical miracles as myths. Why? Perhaps because "we don't see miracles today." But many people claim to witness miracles—we simply don't believe them. Miracles needn't always be dramatic; they can be as simple as answered prayers.

Conclusion: The Limits and Possibilities of Historical Knowledge

We must distinguish between history as historical writing and history as what actually happened. Can we know the past? Everyone seems to say yes, but only indirectly through evidence-based arguments that are more or less probable based on persuasive rhetoric. However, certain past events are deemed impossible precisely because they fall outside what many consider possible within the historical process.

But perhaps we should approach historical writing as a way to learn what actually happened, even if that includes events—like miracles—that challenge our assumptions about what is possible.