Between education and propaganda: public controversy over presidential library design.

• Author: Mitchell, Gordon R.
• Position: Report

When Professor of Economics James Rosse was appointed as chair of a faculty committee to consult on proposals to site the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library at Stanford University in 1983, he quickly sought input from those with experience in establishing and overseeing similar facilities (Rosse, 1983a, 1983b). Rosse knew that the incipient controversy at Stanford would be colored by what Chaim Perelman calls "presumptions"--shared notions of common experience that define "what normally happens and what can be reasonably counted upon" (Perelman, 1982, pp. 24-25). What are the presumptions about how presidential libraries should be built and operated? How did they shape the public argument at Stanford during the early 1980s, and in turn, how did Stanford's ultimate decision to reject the Reagan Library proposal reinforce or mold the presumptions? Close examination of primary documents housed at the Stanford University archives provides an opportunity to consider these questions and generate insight regarding the evolving political function of presidential libraries. Further, this path of inquiry affords the opportunity to develop Chaim Perelman and Lucie Olbrechts-Tyteca's theory of argumentation by deploying it as a tool of rhetorical criticism in case studies that feature rich and textured episodes of public controversy (cf. Farrell, 1986; Golden, 1986; Makau, 1986).

While commentary on extant presidential libraries abounds (e.g. Cochrane, 2005, 2006; Craig, 2006; Drake, 2007; Flowers, 2007; Geselbracht, 2006; Glenn, 2007; Horrocks, 1994; Houck, 2006; Hufbauer, 2005, 2006, 2007; Lyons, 1995; Stuckey, 2006), the public controversies surrounding rejected presidential library proposals remain understudied. Here, we couple analysis of the Stanford Reagan library controversy with a second "negative" case study involving argumentation leading up to Duke University's decision to reject a proposal for housing Richard Nixon's presidential library on its campus in the early 1980s. These parallel cases offer a glimpse into what Thomas Farrell terms "social knowledge in controversy"--episodes where prevailing social precedents governing human decision-making evolve in the crucible of public argument (Farrell, 1976). Such inquiry is especially timely in the contemporary milieu, where public controversy simmers regarding the sitting president's future library at Southern Methodist University, and where issues of government transparency and accountability persist as salient topics of public and scholarly concern.

FROM "THE PEOPLE'S RECORDS" TO PRESIDENTIAL TEMPLES

Throughout much of American history, presidential papers were the personal property of the president, who would retain sole custody of the documents after leaving office (Hufbaner, 2005, p. 25). This changed in 1941, when President Franklin D. Roosevelt created the first presidential library to store, preserve, and provide access to his presidential papers. Roosevelt (1941) believed that these papers were "the people's records" and should be freely accessible in a democracy. For the most part, future presidents followed Roosevelt's example, adhering to a standardized process codified in the 1955 Presidential Libraries Act that calls on private foundations to design and build presidential libraries, which once completed, are donated to the federal government and administered by the National Archives and Records Administration (NARA) (Geselbracht & Walch, 2005). There are currently 12 presidential libraries under federal control, with one (the new George W. Bush Library at Southern Methodist University) under construction.

In a recent twist, the presidential libraries created over the past several decades have transformed prevailing conceptions about the nature and purpose of the libraries, with a widening array of actors now drawn into design discussions. These actors include former presidents, presidential foundations, NARA officials, community groups, and academic institutions hosting the facilities. The creation of academic institutes operating in conjunction with the libraries is increasingly popular, and these institutes, like the Clinton School of Public Service (University of Arkansas) and the Bush School of Government and Public Service (Texas A&M), extend their president's influence into higher education. This trend started when President LyndonJohnson created the Johnson School of Public Affairs at the University of Texas at Austin to educate graduate students interested in careers in public service; the University funded the venture with an initial payment of "$18, $20 million" according to Johnson's preliminary estimates (qtd. in Hufbaner, 2005, p. 73). The formal university ties that link academic institutions and presidential libraries add more cooks to the kitchen, a factor that complicates library governance, and as we shall see, tends to stimulate controversy.

The advent of side-car research institutes has played a significant role in the evolution of presidential libraries in that the institutes ratchet up the tension between two opposing functions art historian Benjamin Hufbauer identifies as inherent in presidential libraries: an "archival" function, which preserves and catalogs the president's records for use by scholars and the public, and a "monumental" function, which honors the former president by acting as a personal memorial (Hufbauer, 2005, p. 8).

In intriguing respects, Hufbauer's dichotomy parallels Cha'fm Perelman and Lucie Olbrechts-Tyteca's distinction between education and propaganda (Perelman & OlbrechtsTyteca, 1969, pp. 51-54). According to Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca, education involves the epideictic transmission of commonly accepted values to audiences predisposed to embrace community norms and traditions, whereas propaganda operates in the realm of the contingent, where uncertain or incomplete knowledge creates conditions ripe for controversy. Here, the memorial component of presidential libraries tracks with Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca's concept of education, with "presidential temples" serving as vehicles to instill into future generations the values inherent in the office of the U.S. presidency. In related fashion, Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca's notion of propaganda compares to the archival function of presidential libraries, especially when one focuses on how the libraries can serve as conveyor belts that deliver freshly-declassified documents to researchers seeking to unlock previously hidden information about controversial episodes of presidential governance.

One reason why the tension between the memorial/education and archive/propaganda functions of presidential libraries is the source of rich dispute is the lack of formal rules governing presidential library design. The Presidential Libraries Act of 1955 does not explicitly set forth required components of a presidential library but merely mandates that sufficient space and equipment be donated to the Federal Government and that a government representative, "in negotiating for the deposit of Presidential historical materials, shall take steps to secure to the Government as far as possible, the right to have continuous and permanent possession of the materials" (U.S. Congress, 1955). The Act provides for exhibit space for presidential materials in a museum and also for workspace for the former president if desired, but it stops short of codifying detailed design requirements.

In large part, this statutory vacuum is filled by a dynamic set of norms and conventions flowing from episodes of argumentation and decision connected with specific controversies relating to library design. As Farrell notes, such "social knowledge" is formed when joint rhetorical action yields "conceptions" of relationships "among problems, persons, interests, and actions, which imply (when accepted) certain notions of preferable public behavior" (Farrell, 1976, p. 4). Individuals coalesce to share their "direct or indirect experience[s]" with others to form a "generalizable" interest (Farrell, 1976, p. 5). This generalized interest forms common expectations for society, and these expectations serve as "social precedents" structuring subsequent decisions.

Farrell's theory of social knowledge cues attention to how arguments relating to the design, planning, and creation of presidential libraries not only shape the evolving "social precedents" in this area, but also allocate the burden of proof in argumentation, since as Perelman notes, interlocutors' contributions to a dispute are evaluated against the backdrop of presumptions, or settled starting points, that obtain in a given case. This may help explain the impetus behind Stanford professor Rosse's early attempts to gather information from Duke regarding that school's experience in sorting through a comparable library controversy.

Through correspondence, memoranda, and other forms of communication, interlocutors in presidential library design controversies present ideas, debate their significance and importance, and ultimately reach conclusions about what actions should follow.

The discussions about presidential library design are infused with political significance, as these facilities are resources that enable citizens to realize their "right to know," an extension of the U.S. Constitution's First Amendment that spells out an affirmative duty of the federal government to make information available for public inspection (O'Brien, 1981). Yet as Davis Houck astutely points out, "archives function as sites of preferred memory," and as such, the information available in any presidential library is there "because someone wanted it there--not necessarily because it adds to our understanding of the historical record" (Houck, 2006, p. 134).

Presidential libraries have been analyzed in some scholarly research, particularly by information science scholars and notably by art historian Benjamin Hufbauer. In addition to his book...