My observations of the British presentation of World War II at the sites we visited largely matched my impressions of the Britons that I interacted with: formal, polite, detached, and occasionally condescending. Just as I was struck by the impeccable courteousness and comparative remoteness of many British people, the thoroughness and overall objectivity of the British museums was conspicuous and impressive. Exhibits like the Churchill museum, which provided an interactive display of thousands of viewable documents related to the prime minister, exemplified for me both the serious pedagogical aims of British museums and a commitment to a more detached, objective presentation. The abundant information presented by the Churchill exhibits balance Churchill’s strengths and successes with his flaws and failures; while the positive popular and historical consensus about Churchill was certainly clear, the museum’s nuanced portrayal seemed to leave the final assessment up to the observer. However, despite this prevailing sense of impartiality and analysis, all the museums that I visited clearly convey the British perspective on the war and structure their foci correspondingly. The Imperial War Museum hardly gives any mention to the Eastern Front or the Pacific theater, naturally ceding pride of place to the Battle of Britain, the Western Desert Campaign, and the Normandy Invasion. Similarly, while the IWM acknowledges the wartime contributions of the larger British Empire, more sensitive and controversial issues like the defeats in East Asia and the exploitation of imperial resources are downplayed in favor of the more traditional, Anglo-centric view of the British Empire’s resolute and heroic fight against Fascism.
Indeed, the multiple museums that I visited in Britain all exuded the common theme of World War II as “the People’s War,” the strenuous, unified effort of all British people to overcome material hardships and military reversals to win the war despite deeply-entrenched class and political divisions. In contrast to the many less-than-positive aspects of World War II for Great Britain – appeasement, a mixed military record, and the loss of global preeminence – the British collective memory seems to favor portraying the war as a great coming together of all levels of society for a just cause. The Bletchley Park Museum exemplifies this notion of a great collective effort, emphasizing the diverse backgrounds and contributions of the thousands of people that worked in the Ultra intelligence operation. In addition to displaying the methods and effects of Ultra’s intelligence-gathering, various exhibits highlight the daily lives and individual experiences of Bletchley operatives from Alan Turing himself to the WREN’s that operated the facility’s switchboards. Similarly, the HMS Belfast museum ship presents both the operational history of the light cruiser and the experiences of its sailors, notably including many interviews with Royal Navy crew members. The Imperial War Museum dedicates much space to the wartime experiences of ordinary Britons, particularly stressing the everyday privations and sacrifices of Londoners during the Blitz with an abundance of primary accounts and salient artifacts. Likewise, the placement of the World War II section after the revamped Great War exhibit, which exhaustively introduces the concept of total war, reinforces the idea of World War II as a great collective undertaking of the entire British nation.
Despite this copious evidence, the speech of Michael Hanscomb, our guest speaker who grew up during the Blitz, most firmly impressed upon me the British conception of the “People’s War.” His anecdotes of perseverance and simple admiration for Churchill’s determined, down-to-earth leadership typified for me the experience of common Britons during the conflict. While the British interpretation may oversimplify history, Mr. Hanscomb poignantly remarked that what is history to me is simply part of his life, reminding me that despite our efforts to be rational and detached, history is often very personal and thus subjective.
