(Editor’s Note: The following first
appeared in print in the May 2008 issue of
The Freeman, the journal of the Foundation for Economic Education.)
"Sold!" cried the Sotheby’s auctioneer on the night of Dec. 18, 2007, as one of
history’s oldest political documents changed hands. It was the Magna Carta, or
rather, a copy of it that dated to 1297. The buyer was not a government but an
individual, a Washington lawyer named David Rubenstein. He paid $21.3 million
for it and promptly announced he wanted his newly acquired private property to
stay on public view at the National Archives in the nation’s capital.
A
privately owned Magna Carta? Aren’t such important things supposed to be public
property? A couple of "educated" American students visiting Britain in
mid-December certainly thought so. For a story that aired on CNN about the
auction at Sotheby’s, they were interviewed at the British Library in London
while gazing upon another of the great charter’s copies on display there.
"I
couldn’t imagine that there is still a privately owned copy of the Magna Carta
floating around the world. It seems really incredible that any one person should
actually have that in their possession," one of the young scholars pronounced.
"Personally, I hope the government or some charitable foundation gets a hold of
it so that everybody can enjoy seeing it," chimed the other. Both assumed that
private property and public benefit, at least with regard to historical
preservation, were incompatible.
The Magna
Carta copy that Mr. Rubenstein bought will not be spirited into his closet
because it is the new owner’s wish that it be preserved for public display.
While some might say humanity lucked out in this particular instance, it really
is just the latest in a rich heritage of private care of documents, manuscripts
and objects of historical significance. Indeed, the very copy Mr. Rubenstein
bought was previously owned by businessman Ross Perot’s foundation, which in
turn had acquired it in 1984 from yet another private owner, the Brudenell
family of Britain. Given the record, those students should have sung hosannas to
private efforts like that of Mr. Rubenstein.
The content of books from the ancient world
appears to have been brought into the digital age largely through private
efforts. Through various eras, libraries, scribes and printers were supported to
a great extent through private patronage.
Ecclesiastical institutions were critical to
preserving texts that are important to the Western tradition, points out Dr.
Ryan Olson, former director of education policy at the Mackinac Center and
holder of a doctorate in the classics from Oxford University. For example, says
Olson, the 6th century Cassiodorus finished his career as a government official
in Ravenna and organized monastic efforts to copy Christian and classical texts. Some work of Cassiodorus’ monks seems to have ended up in Rome, where it could
be more influential. Though the history of transmission can be difficult to
trace, scholars have argued that at least one classical work, by Cato, seems to
have survived to this day because of Cassiodorus’ efforts. "It is our
intention," Cassiodorus wrote shortly before his death, "to weave into one
fabric and assign to proper usage whatever the ancients have handed down to
modern custom."
The famous Library of Alexandria, one of the grandest in the
ancient world according to Olson, was started by the Ptolemies and funded by a
grant from their own wealth. The library contained the greatest works of
antiquity in about 500,000 rolls and seems to have provided the impetus for the
creation of the Septuagint, the Greek version of the Hebrew Bible that was
essential not only for Judaism in the Greco-Roman world, but was also used by
the authors of the Christian New Testament.
I also learned from Dr. Olson that the Roman politician, lawyer
and author Cicero revealed in his letters a network of extensive personal
libraries that preserved important books that could be read by members of the
public and even borrowed and sent with messengers. Books could be consulted and
returned or copied for one’s own library and returned to the owner. If one
wanted to look at several books, a personal visit to a private library could be
arranged.
The Bodleian Library at Oxford where Dr. Olson once studied was founded by Sir
Thomas Bodley and dedicated in 1602. King James I, upon entering the library in
August of 1605, said the library’s founder should be dubbed "Sir Thomas Godly."
Bodley had spent his considerable personal wealth acquiring books and early
manuscripts that have formed the core of one of the most extensive collections
in the world. That collection includes among its innumerable treasures a
first-edition of "Don Quixote," a manuscript of Confucius acquired at a time
when few could read its Chinese characters, a 14th century copy of Dante’s
"Divine Comedy," as well as first editions of the works of John Milton, who
called the library a "most sacred centre," a "glorious treasure-house" of "the
best Memorials of Man."
Additional examples of history preservation through private
means are, it turns out, legion. Pittsburgh banker Andrew Mellon acquired a
massive assortment of prized art work. He donated his entire collection (plus
$10 million for construction) to start the National Gallery of Art in
Washington, D.C. Tens of thousands of historic homes and buildings all across
America are owned and maintained privately, many of them refurbished and open
for public viewing. Even historic lighthouses, once largely public property, are being preserved today by private owners after decades of neglect by government authorities. On and on it goes.
It’s worth noting, by the way, that history’s greatest book
burners have not been private individuals and institutions, but rather
governments and quasi-governments empowered by the force of the state.
The more one looks into this, the more
apparent it is that private efforts have been more than just a side show in
historical preservation. They are the centerpiece. And why should it be
otherwise? Private owners invest their own resources, acquiring an instant and
personal interest in the "capital" value of the historical asset. Being a
government employee does not make one more interested in, or better equipped to
care for, the things we regard as historically valuable than those numerous
private citizens who put their own resources on the line.
So what’s the problem about a copy of the
Magna Carta being purchased by a private citizen? Nothing at all. To suggest
otherwise is simply to utter an uninformed and antiquated prejudice. In a civil
society of free people, that prejudice should be rare enough to be a museum
piece.
#####
Lawrence W. Reed on Sept. 1 assumed the roles
of president at the Foundation for Economic Education and president emeritus of
the Mackinac Center for Public Policy, a research and educational institute
headquartered in Midland, Mich. Permission to reprint in whole or in part is
hereby granted, provided that the author and the Center are properly cited.
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