Now 85, Eric Hobsbawm has written the history of his own life, Interesting Times, and PW took advantage of the moment to ask the noted historian about the perspective his long life has given him.
PW: You have lived more than three-quarters of the most dramatic century the world has seen. In what way have your experiences give you a sense of proportion that has lent weight to your examinations of human history?
Eric Hobsbawm: I am basically a 19th-century historian and therefore find the 20th much less encouraging. Living through it has given me a sense of the fragility of human affairs and political systems. It has also given me an unexpected sense of optimism. If humanity was able to come through the 20th century and end up, on the whole, better than before, then it can probably stand anything.
PW: As an avowed communist for most of your writing life, you have still managed to create a considerable life for yourself in a variety of American contexts. How was this possible, at a time when the U.S. was so rabidly anti-communist?
EH: The remarkable fact about the American intellectual and especially academic community during my lifetime was its openness to interesting ideas and people, irrespective of ideological background. In this respect it was superior to the British and some other European ones. I hope this openness will survive the present era of public intolerance.
PW: You express skepticism in your book about the long-term prospects for an American empire of the kind to which the present administration seems to be pushing the country and the world. Why do you think it will ultimately fail?
EH: There has never been a single state claiming to exercise empire over the entire globe. All other empires of the past knew themselves to coexist with regions beyond their control and were aware of the limitations of military power. Nevertheless, none of them have lasted or maintained their position indefinitely. I think the U.S. will also realize that this is the case on a globe too complex to be simply commanded.
PW: Your original entrée into American life came through your passion, unusual in a senior historian, for jazz. What in the current American cultural menu could provide a similar lure for a European intellectual today?
EH: I am one of many academics of my generation, certainly in Britain, who developed a passion for jazz, but not many have written about it as I have. At present I see no equivalent cultural innovation in the field of popular music in the United States, as distinct from Latin America and Africa. On the other hand the movies retain their capacity to inspire foreign intellectuals, even though—or perhaps because—American films have adopted a great deal of foreign talent and some foreign innovations. But what lures European intellectuals today is the sheer liveliness and distinction of the American intellectual scene.
PW: Your memoir is largely one of the public life you have led, and you apologize for slighting the private side of your very remarkable life and career. Could you still imagine a companion volume that might fill that gap? And would it be harder or easier to write?
EH: I do not apologize for "slighting the private side" of my life in my autobiography. I just explain that it is not that kind of autobiography, I do so not because I want to keep my own private life private, but that of other people. You will note that the part dealing with my childhood and teenage is about a period when all participants other than myself are dead.
