History is always, without fail, interpreted. Peter Wothington and Cliff Chadderton have their individual interpretations as does war artist Gertrude Kearns, and I am certain that her interpretations are different from those of, say, war artist Alex Colville. (The plural matters, I think, because I am fairly certain that Ms. Kearns would interpret different situations in different ways in different time periods.)
My interpretation of events â “ unification for example â “ which took place in the '60s is different, today, 40+ years on, than it was in those same '60s or in the '70s, '80s and '90s for that matter.
My interpretation of World War I differs, I suppose, from, say, Jack Granatsein's or, for all that it matters, from those of any historian â “ although I am close to Niall Ferguson's view â “ in The Pity of War, London, 1998. Am I (and Ferguson) right? Obviously I think I am but I am not so conceited (not quite, anyway) as to expect that others agree.
All interpretations, including those of jmacleod, pbi, and Michael Dorosh, etc, are 'right' in the eyes of those who make them. One of the key functions of any museum is to provide a mechanism through which everyone may make their own interpretations based, hopefully, on an objective presentation of the available evidence and that, presenting the available evidence, with interpretations â “ because it is people doing the presenting, not machines, is, I argue, the work, indeed the duty of scholars, some of whom might, also, be soldiers. In the end scholarship must 'win' because museums are not memorials â “ too many people make the serious mistake of confusing the two. We have ways and means to honour and remember those who fought 'our' wars; we need ways to learn about how wars affect us and how they helped shape our country and our society. Museums are one of the tools in the latter quest.