The Report On Ward Churchill,
by Tom Mayer (Department of
Sociology, University of Colorado at Boulder)
(Swans - June 19, 2006)
I have finally finished a
careful reading of the 124 page report about the alleged
academic misconduct of Ward Churchill. Often, but not
always, I have been able to compare the statements in the
report with the relevant writings of Professor Churchill.
Although the report by the committee on research misconduct
clearly entailed prodigious labor, it is a flawed document
requiring careful analysis. The central flaw in the report
is grotesque exaggeration about the magnitude and gravity
of the improprieties committed by Ward Churchill. The
sanctions recommended by the investigating committee are
entirely out of whack with those imposed upon such
luminaries as Stephen Ambrose, Doris Kearns Goodwin, and
Lawrence Tribe, all of whom committed plagiarisms far more
egregious than anything attributed to Professor Churchill.
The text of the report suggests that the committee's
judgments about the seriousness of Churchill's misconduct
were contaminated by political considerations. This becomes
evident on page 97 where the committee acknowledges that
"damage done to the reputation of ... the University of
Colorado as an academic institution is a consideration in
our assessment of the seriousness of Professor Churchill's
conduct." Whatever damage the University may have sustained
by employing Ward Churchill derives from his controversial
political statements and certainly not from the obscure
footnoting practices nor disputed authorship issues
investigated by the committee. Indeed, the two plagiarism
charges refer to publications that are now fourteen years
old. Although these charges had been made years earlier,
they were not considered worthy of investigation until Ward
Churchill became a political cause celebre. Using
institutional reputation to measure misconduct severity
amounts to importing politics through the back door.
The report claims that Professor Churchill engaged in
fabrication and falsification. To make these claims it
stretches the meaning of these words almost beyond
recognition. Fabrication implies an intent to deceive.
There is not a shred of evidence that the writings of Ward
Churchill contain any assertion that he himself did not
believe. The language used in the report repeatedly drifts
in an inflammatory direction: disagreement becomes
misinterpretation, misinterpretation becomes
misrepresentation, misinterpretation becomes falsification.
Ward may be wrong about who was considered an Indian under
the General Allotment Act of 1887 or about the origins of
the 1837-1840 smallpox epidemic among the Indians of the
northern plains, but the report does not establish that
only a lunatic or a liar could reach his conclusions on the
basis of available evidence.
The charges of fabrication and falsification all derive
from short fragments within much longer articles. The
report devotes 44 pages to discussing the 1837-1840
smallpox epidemic. One might think that Ward had written an
entire book on this subject. In fact this issue occupies no
more than three paragraphs in any of his writings. In each
of the six essays cited in the report, all reference to
this epidemic could have been dropped without substantially
weakening the argument. To be sure, the account given by
Ward is not identical to that found in any of his sources,
but it is a recognizable composite of information contained
within them. The committee peremptorily dismisses
Churchill's contention that his interpretation of the
epidemic was influenced by the Native American oral
tradition. This is treated as no more than an ex post facto
defense against the allegation of misconduct. The committee
also discounts Native American witnesses who support
Churchill's interpretations as well as his fidelity to oral
accounts. The centrality of the oral tradition is evident
in many of Churchill's writings. His acknowledgments
frequently include elders, Indian bands, and the American
Indian Movement. He often integrates Native American poetry
with his historical analysis. Three of his books with which
I am familiar, Since Predator Came (1995), A Little Matter
of Genocide (1997), and Struggle for the Land (2002) all
begin with poems. As a thirty- year veteran of the intense
political struggles within the American Indian Movement,
Ward Churchill could not avoid a deep familiarity with the
oral tradition of Native American history.
By addressing only a tiny fragment of his writings, the
report implies that Ward tries to overawe and hoodwink his
readers with spurious documentation. Anyone who reads an
essay like "Nits Make Lice: The Extermination of North
American Indians 1607-1996" with its 612 footnotes will get
a very different impression. Churchill, they will see, goes
far beyond most writers of broad historical overviews in
trying to support his claims. He often cites several
references in the same footnote. Ward is deeply engaged
with the materials he references and frequently comments
extensively upon them. He typically mounts a running
critique of authors like James Axtell, Steven Katz, and
Deborah Lipstadt. Readers will see that Churchill is
familiar with a formidable variety of materials and can
engage in a broad range of intellectual discourses.
Ward Churchill is not just another writer about the
hardships suffered by American Indians. He offers a very
distinctive vision of what David Stannard calls the
"American Holocaust." According to Churchill, the
extermination of Native Americans was neither accidental,
nor inadvertent, nor unwelcome among the invading
Europeans. On the contrary, it was largely deliberate,
often planned (sometimes by the highest political
authorities), and frequently applauded within the
mainstream media. "[A] hemispheric population estimated to
have been as great as 125 million was reduced by something
over 90 percent....and in an unknown number of instances
deliberately infected with epidemic diseases" (A Little
Matter of Genocide, p. 1). Moreover, Ward maintains that
the American Holocaust continues to this day. He thinks it
is fully comparable to, and even more extensive than, the
Nazi genocide of the Jewish people during World War Two.
The endemic chauvinism and Manichaean sensibility this
process has induced within our political culture helps
explain Hiroshima, Vietnam, Iraq, and other American
exercises in technological murder.
"If there is one crucial pattern that most affects our
assessment," writes the committee, "it is a pattern of
failure to understand the difference between scholarship
and polemic, or at least of behaving as though that
difference does not matter" (p. 95). Taking away the
negative imputation, I can agree with the latter
observation. Ward believes we are all in a race against
time. Thus the main point of historical scholarship is not
to recount the past, but rather to provide intellectual
ammunition for preventing future genocides now in the
making.
Like most scholars, Churchill practices an implicitly
Bayesian (a statistical term) form of analysis. That is, he
evaluates the plausibility of assertions and the
credibility of evidence partly on the basis of his prior
beliefs. That government officials connived in generating
the 1837-40 smallpox epidemic seems far more plausible to
Ward than to the investigating committee precisely because
he thinks this is what American governments are inclined to
do. He discounts many of the so-called primary sources
cited in the report because their authors despise Indians
or wish to conceal their own culpability in spreading the
epidemic. And contrary to what the report says (p. 96),
many first rate scholars focus on proving their own
hypotheses rather than considering all available evidence
even-handedly. Einstein, for example, spent the last three
decades of his life trying to disprove quantum mechanics
while largely disregarding evidence in its favor. This is
not research misconduct.
Virtually all the mass exterminations of recent times have
evoked amazingly divergent historical assessments and
numerical estimates. This is true of the Armenian genocide,
Stalin's collectivization campaign and purges, the Nazi
holocaust, Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the Great Leap Forward,
Vietnam, Cambodia, and Rwanda. In some cases there is
dispute about whether the extermination even happened, and
even when mass killing is acknowledged, numerical estimates
sometimes differ by a factor of ten or even more. These
differing interpretations are almost never politically
innocent but, when honestly advanced, they do not
constitute research misconduct. Neither do Ward Churchill's
assessments of genocidal activities by John Smith or by the
U.S. Army at Fort Clark.
The operational definition of academic misconduct used by
the investigating committee is so broad that virtually
anyone who writes anything might be found guilty. Not
footnoting an empirical claim is misconduct. Citing a book
without giving a page number is misconduct. Referencing a
source that only partially supports an assertion is
misconduct. Referencing contradictory sources without
detailing their contradictions is misconduct. Citing a work
considered by some to be unserious or inadequate is
misconduct. Footnoting an erroneous claim without
acknowledging the error is misconduct. Interpreting a text
differently than does its author is misconduct. Ghost
writing an article is misconduct. Referencing a paper one
has ghost written without acknowledging authorship is
misconduct. No doubt this list of transgressions could be
greatly expanded. I strongly suspect that many people who
vociferously support the report have read neither it nor
any book or essay Ward Churchill has ever written. Perhaps
this should be deemed a form of academic misconduct.
If any of the sanctions recommended by the investigating
committee are put into effect, it will constitute a
stunning blow to academic freedom. Such punishment will
show that a prolific, provocative, and highly influential
thinker can be singled out for entirely political reasons;
subjected to an arduous interrogation virtually guaranteed
to find problems; and then severed from academic
employment. It will indicate that public controversy is
dangerous and that genuine intellectual heresy could easily
be lethal to an academic career. It will demonstrate that
tenured professors serve at the pleasure of governors,
political columnists, media moguls, and talk show hosts.
Most faculty members never say anything that requires
protection. The true locus of academic freedom has always
been defined by the intellectual outliers. The chilling
effect of Ward Churchill's academic crucifixion upon the
energy and boldness of these freedom-defining heretics will
be immediate and profound.
The authors of the report on Ward Churchill present
themselves as stalwart defenders of academic integrity. I
have a quite different perspective. I see them as
collaborators in the erosion of academic freedom, an
erosion all too consonant with the wider assault upon civil
liberties currently underway. The authors of the report
claim to uphold the intellectual credibility of ethnic
studies. I wonder how many ethnic studies scholars will see
it that way. I certainly do not. Notwithstanding their
protestations to the contrary, I see committee members as
gendarmes of methodological and interpretive orthodoxy,
quite literally "warding" off a vigorous challenge to
mainstream understandings of American history. Confronted
by the evidence presented in this report, the appropriate
response might be to write a paper critiquing the work of
Ward Churchill. Excluding him, either permanently or
temporarily, from the University of Colorado is singularly
inappropriate.
Ward Churchill is one of the most brilliant persons I have
encountered during my 37 years at this university. His
brilliance is not immediately evident due to his combative
manner and propensity for long monologues. Whenever reading
one of his essays I feel in the presence of a powerful
though hyperbolic intellect. The permanent or temporary
expulsion of Ward Churchill would be an immense loss for
CU. In one fell swoop we would become a more tepid, more
timid, and more servile institution. His expulsion would
deprive students of contact with a potent challenger of
accepted cognitive frameworks. The social sciences
desperately need the kind of challenge presented by Ward
Churchill. His most strident claims may be rather dubious,
but they stimulate our scholarly juices and make us rethink
our evidence and assumptions. One of his main objectives,
Ward has often said, is "to bring consideration of American
Indians into the main currents of global intellectual
discourse." In this endeavor he has been a splendid
success.