A nation's memory is not a political weapon

It’s the complex, unvarnished story of where we’ve been and a guide for where we must go. And now, it is under attack.

By Jeff Nesbit

A nation's memory is its conscience. It’s the complex, unvarnished story of where we’ve been and a guide for where we must go. And right now, the conscience of the United States is under attack.

In a recent social media post, President Donald Trump declared that museums are the “last remaining segment of ‘WOKE’,” alleging the Smithsonian is “OUT OF CONTROL” for focusing on subjects such as “how bad Slavery was.” He has instructed his attorneys to “go through the Museums” and purge them of narratives his political movement finds offensive.

This is not simply a disagreement over museum curation; it’s a dangerous and calculated attempt to whitewash our history, silence uncomfortable truths, and undermine the very institutions we trust to preserve and interpret our collective past.

This is an affront to the intelligence of the American people and a profound disservice to future generations.

Trump’s initial attack on museums—via the Smithsonian—is especially important because of the nature of its creation and relationship to the federal government. The White House has a great deal of leverage over the Smithsonian, which is likely why the Trump administration chose it as a political target.

The Trump administration’s primary leverage comes from both funding and governance, which are deeply intertwined. Private institutions such as Harvard receive federal funds through specific research grants, but the Smithsonian is a unique entity that relies on the federal government for its core existence.

The Smithsonian is a “trust instrumentality” of the United States, a unique quasi-public entity. Though it raises substantial private funds for acquisitions and programs, its foundational operating budget (covering salaries, facilities maintenance, and core operations) is funded primarily by federal appropriations.

Typically, about 60-70% of the Smithsonian's annual budget comes directly from the federal government. For example, the National Museum of African American History and Culture, gets half of its funding from the federal government. Should Trump target this appropriation, it could lead to museum closures, staff furloughs, and a halt to essential research and maintenance.

But the Smithsonian is also governed by its Board of Regents, which is structurally linked to the federal government. It includes the vice president, the chief justice of the U.S. Supreme Court, three members from the Senate, and three members from the House

Trump will clearly exert immense political pressure through these members. The president doesn't appoint the majority of regents, but it seems patently obvious that Trump will directly pressure the GOP members on the Smithsonian board to do his bidding, creating a climate of political pressure that the board cannot ignore.

The third, critical element of pressure that Trump is now using is his bully pulpit to publicly condemn the Smithsonian, potentially damaging its reputation, discouraging private donations, and chilling its relationships with other federal agencies (such as NASA, the National Park Service, etc.) upon which it relies for partnerships and research.

The unique federal relationship is clearly why Trump feels he has the “right” to try to bully the Smithsonian into submission. He’s done this at the Kennedy Center. Now it’s the Smithsonian’s time in the barrel. The Trump administration is using yet another page in the autocratic playbook—seizing the culture and education systems—to consolidate and centralize power.

The administration’s first salvo was a directive for a review of Smithsonian institutions to ensure they align with a politically mandated version of “American exceptionalism.” The implied threat is clear: conform or face consequences.

This creates what the American Alliance of Museums rightly calls a “chilling effect across the entire museum sector.” When the power of the executive branch is used to intimidate, curators and historians are pressured into self-censorship.

The fear of losing federal funding (a threat made real by previous cuts to the Institute of Museum and Library Services and the National Endowments for the Arts and the Humanities) can lead institutions to avoid difficult subjects altogether, resulting in a history that’s sanitized, incomplete, and ultimately, dishonest.

The American Historical Association has expressed “grave concern” about this “political interference,” warning that it risks imposing a “single and flawed view of American history.” This is precisely the goal.

The complaint that museums focus too much on “how bad Slavery was” reveals a desire for a history devoid of honesty and consequence, a celebratory pageant that ignores the foundational sins from which we still struggle to recover.

A mature and great nation must be able to confront its entire history, both the triumphs and the profound failures. To downplay the brutality of slavery or the long shadow it casts on our society is to lie to ourselves.

As Pulitzer Prize-winning historian Annette Gordon-Reed stated, the danger is “you get an incomplete picture of what happened in the country.... It's a way of keeping people ignorant of the past.”

Institutions such as the Smithsonian’s National Museum of African American History and Culture do not exist to denigrate America; they exist to tell a fuller, more truthful story of it. They celebrate Black resilience, culture, and achievement while unflinchingly examining the legacy of slavery and discrimination. This is not “woke.” It is history.

This crusade is also a profound breach of public trust. Museums are among the most trusted institutions in America for a reason. According to the Organization of American Historians, “a majority of Americans consistently say they want a full, honest, and unvarnished presentation of our nation's history.”

People visit museums to learn and to be challenged, not to be fed a state-approved narrative. The administration’s move is an attempt to exert what the OAH calls “authoritarian control over the national narrative,” substituting scholarly integrity with a political agenda.

It fundamentally misunderstands the mission of a museum, which, as dozens of museum groups declared in an open letter, “is neither criticism nor celebration; it is to understand.”

We cannot allow our shared history to become a casualty of the culture wars. The story of America is one of breathtaking success and heartbreaking failure, of glorious ideals and the painful struggle to live up to them.

It is bright and it is dark. It is complicated. And it belongs to all of us.

Now is the time to stand up for these essential institutions. Visit your local museums. Support them with your time and resources. Contact your elected officials and demand they oppose this blatant political interference.

Our museums are not here to make us feel comfortable; they are here to make us think. And in these times, there is nothing more vital than the courage to confront our history in all its complexity and contradiction.

Jeff Nesbit was the public affairs chief for five Cabinet departments or agencies under four presidents.

---